Livin' La Vida Grande

Adoption is Plan B

noreply@blogger.com (MilitantMom) — Fri, 06 Nov 2015 22:32:00 +0000

Let’s be clear about one thing: adoption never was God’s plan.

That’s a pretty bold statement from someone who claims to be a Christian. After all, isn’t the Bible full of references to being “adopted sons and daughters of God”? What about Moses being adopted by Pharaoh? And wasn’t Jesus adopted by Joseph, Mary’s husband? It seems like adoption figures pretty prominently in both the Old and New Testaments of the Bible.

So, yeah, maybe God did use adoption to further his plan for humanity. But adoption is a result of our fallen human nature. If it weren’t for our brokenness, we wouldn’t need adoption.

Now I’m going to make another bold statement: The best way to raise a child is to have an intact biological two-parent family. Yes, despite what you may have heard from the popular media, kids still do best when they are raised with their biological mom and dad. Poverty stinks, but it’s still better to be poor with both your mom and dad, than to be rich without them. And I suspect growing up with at least one biological parent is still better than none. Unfortunately, life doesn’t always work out that way for kids.

As my husband and I stand on the brink of adopting again in our 50’s, I find myself reflecting on life in a way that I never did when I was in my 20’s and 30’s having babies, or in my 40’s traveling to another country to adopt two orphans.

Life was so simple then! When my husband and I decided to adopt in the beginning of the new millennium, we were already parents to 8 young children, ages 11 months to 13 years. We had jumped at the opportunity to live overseas, and in June of 2000, we moved to a small city in northern England. Since we were already homeschooling our kids, this move was made a bit easier than if our kids had all been in school. We were no strangers to strangeness. We were (and still are) a living oddity. A sign of non-conformism, I suppose.

Our motivations were pure (insofar as we knew). We wanted to provide a home for an orphan or two. We had been inspired to consider adoption when we read in our local parish bulletin about a baby boy with Down Syndrome who needed a home. I phoned the agency to inquire. When the lady on the other end heard my “accent,” she was wary. “How long do you plan on living in the UK?” she wanted to know. I told her our contract was for three years. “That’s not long enough, I’m afraid,” said the woman. And my hopes were dashed.

We finally did adopt two unrelated boys, across racial and international lines, traveling to Guatemala a couple of times before we were finally allowed to bring them home in October 2003. We decided to adopt internationally for two main reasons; the first being that we were already living overseas (in the UK), so any adoption would involve another country, and the second reason being we believed that adopting from another country would be easier, in the sense that we would be adopting children who were victims of poverty rather than abuse. We could always tell them how much their parents loved them and that they wanted a better life for them. Something Hallmarky and romantic and true.

We also felt strongly that a closed adoption was the best for all involved. We didn’t want the child to experience extra trauma from trying to figure out who the “real” parents were. So, despite the fact that our kids knew from the get go that they were adopted, they wouldn’t have any ties to their homeland or their biological families. We were given very little information about their birth families. At the time, this seemed all for the best. We didn’t want the boys to be confused and we certainly didn’t want birth families haranguing us for money or free trips to the US. After all, we were doing this for the betterment of humanity and for the good of the boys who now share our name.

I see now that there are problems with that way of thinking. Going back to my premise that kids are better off with their biological mom and dad, even if they’re poor, what does that mean for us materially better-off Americans who have adopted poor kids from third world countries? We can’t dwell on these questions because there’s no reason to. We adopted them and they are ours. Our lives have been enriched by having them and we hope their lives have been made better as well.

What about finding their biological parents? Have we just delayed the inevitable questions? Whether they give voice to them or not, they will want to know more about where they came from. Who gave Jack his long, slender fingers that play the violin and piano so beautifully? Or Danny’s man-sized hands on his pint-sized body? Who gave him his innate sense of compassion for others? Did anyone else in his family suffer from the genetic condition he has? Does anyone else have that impish grin, or that mirthful laugh? Sure, they’ve gotten some of their quirky senses of humor from us, but genes have a lot to do with who they are. Because we adopted them at age 2, they’d already passed many developmental milestones. Nutritionally, they were deprived and will probably always be in the single digits for percentile height. My dreams of making them into tall American men have been defeated by biology and poor nutrition. Maybe their kids will be taller.

Now we are entering the realm of becoming foster parents and dealing with those kids we had sought to avoid a decade ago--those “hard” cases of abuse and neglect. We can’t sit back and do nothing when there is so much work to be done. But I’m terrified. Maybe it’s because I’m older, in my 50’s, mother of ten children, grandparent to three. Maybe it’s because I’ve read all the horror stories, I’ve seen the news reports, I’ve heard about the trauma these kids have gone through and what hell some foster families have gone through trying to help them.

Children in foster care aren’t there because they did something wrong. They’re there because the adults in their lives did something wrong. The system is full of kids who’ve been dealt a bad hand. Through no fault of their own, they’ve endured abuse and neglect and have been placed into a system for their protection from the people they love the most: those who gave them life. Who are we to tell them to forget the past? Get on with life! Don’t let your past define who you are or who you will become! Of course, we want them to dream big and reinvent themselves to be successful, caring, responsible, productive adult members of society. But they are sons and daughters of parents who probably still love them, even if they can’t show it. How do we show them love, keep them safe, and give them hope, but still let them know who they are and let them love their abusive parents? Yes, this is a scary place we are entering.

As a Christian, I look forward to the day when all will be made right. When the lion shall lie down with the lamb. When the just shall be rewarded and the wicked punished. When we shall see him as he is and not through a mirror dimly. When we can love our neighbors as ourselves without worrying about who said what to whom or what if so-an-so finds out about such-and-such. I look forward to the day when mothers, fathers, sons, daughters, sisters, and brothers can love each other fully and unconditionally. When there are no more tears, no more suffering, no more pain or sorrow. No death. No divorce. No politics. Only love, joy, peace and beauty. Is that too Hallmarky? Maybe so. But that’s my nature.

Adoption was not part of the original plan. Adoption is never the first choice. It’s always plan B. Whether it’s your plan B because of infertility; or because you’re young, pregnant, and scared; or it’s a child’s plan B because of an abusive family; it’s no one's first choice. Nevertheless, as a back-up plan, adoption can be a loving, beautiful choice. Just as Moses and Jesus showed us in the Bible, adoption can lead to redemption. And that’s a beautiful thing.

A Baby Changes Everything

noreply@blogger.com (MilitantMom) — Mon, 18 Jun 2012 22:32:00 +0000

A new baby is expected in our family.

No, for once it's not me who's pregnant.

Our oldest daughter and her husband recently announced they were expecting their first child around Thanksgiving time. We were asked not to say anything for a few weeks because they wanted to be the ones to tell family and friends so that folks didn't end up hearing about it via Facebook. That's a problem we didn't have when I was last expecting.

So, I kept my mouth shut and contemplated all these things in my heart, which was difficult, but good.

I realized that a baby really does impact a lot of people. Besides the fact that I'm going to be a grandma and my husband will be a grandpa for the first time, there are all the excited siblings who will be aunts and uncles for the first time--twelve of them on both sides! Plus, there's another set of excited first time grandparents and several sets of excited first time great-grandparents. (That's what can happen when two first-borns get married). Then there are the excited great aunts, great uncles, second cousins and at least one step great-great-grandma. Yep, there are a whole lot of people looking forward to this kid's arrival; not to mention his or her mom and dad.

A baby changes everything.

When I was expecting, I was either working full-time or raising other youngsters or both and it seemed to me that I was always tired, nauseous or hungry and it was very difficult to contemplate the cosmic significance of being pregnant and creating a new life. That's one of the really cool things about being a grandma-to-be: I have the time and energy to think about these things. Holding a new life inside my body was a privilege and an honor to me. Despite the fatigue, nausea and weight gain, there was always something very mysterious and special about hiding a life inside my womb, very close to my heart. I felt protective of the child growing within me and part of me didn't want the pregnancy to end. It was so much easier to keep the baby safe inside me than to have to deliver him or her into this dangerous world.

But that's not how life works. A baby must be born, if he or she is to live. The child must enter the world, with it's harsh sounds and lights and the baby's first response to this sudden loss of comfort and safety of the mother's womb is to scream. But there is no more precious sound to the parents' ears than that first cry of their newborn infant.

Imagine that, all you parents of toddlers and teens: the most precious sound to a new parent is their baby's cry.

A baby changes everything.

When I was pregnant--I think it was the second or third or maybe fourth time--someone gave me a holy card with this meditation by Cardinal Mindszenty:

The most important person on earth is a mother.
She cannot claim the honor of having built Notre Dame Cathedral.
She need not.
She has built something more magnificent than any cathedral--
a dwelling for an immortal soul, the tiny perfection of her baby's body.
The angels have not been blessed with such grace.
They cannot share in God's creative miracle to bring new saints to Heaven.
Only a human mother can.
Mothers are closer to God the Creator than any other creature;
God joins forces with mothers in performing this act of creation.
What on God's good earth is more glorious than this: to be a mother?

A baby changes everything. A woman becomes a mother. A man becomes a father. Another human being comes into existence who hadn't existed before.

Yes, a baby changes everything...except it's own diaper!

The Gift of Youth and Beauty

noreply@blogger.com (MilitantMom) — Mon, 30 Jan 2012 18:21:00 +0000

It's a very Catholic idea. Give God your youth and your beauty. When you see young men and women, in the prime of life, handsome, beautiful, smiling, raidiant with joy, and they give it all up to be united with God as a priest or religious, what do you think? Catholics see it as a gift of something precious and beautiful. Some folks might sigh and say, "What a waste," but Catholics see it as giving it all to God. These courageous, generous men and women have chosen to give everything they have to God. They even give the things we think belong to us alone, like youth and beauty.


Dominican Sisters of Mary, Mother of the Eucharist 2010 Aspirants (From the Sisters' Web site)

Here's a video from the Dominican Sisters of Mary, who are one of the many new orders of sisters who are experiencing a dramatic increase in vocations. The average age of their aspirants is 21. The average age of their sisters is 28. They've grown from 4 sisters in 1997 to over 100 only 14 years later. Check out their website for more information: http://www.sistersofmary.org

It occurred to me yesterday while sitting in the pews at Sunday Mass and looking out upon the congregation of old people, middle aged people and young people, that those young mothers who are pregnant or nursing a baby or carrying a toddler on a hip, have given God their youth and their beauty too. When the culture tells us to look a certain way or to live a certain way, those who sacrifice their youth and their beauty in order to bring forth new life into the world are doing something heroic and they're sacrificing their figures, their restful nights and their energetic youth holding crying babies in the back of church or consoling a cranky toddler or trying to teach a young child to be prayerful and attentive at Mass.

When you're pregnant sometimes it seems like you'll ALWAYS be pregnant. Especially when you have many children consecutively. When you have multiple ages in diapers or training pants it seems like you'll ALWAYS be dealing with pee and poop. When you have a young child that refuses to sleep through the night, it often feels like you'll NEVER get a good night's sleep.

Polish Madonna

Smile, be brave and know that you have given God a precious gift. You have given Him the gift of your youth and beauty. The amazing thing about God is that He will not be outdone in generosity. He'll take that gift you've given Him and transform it into the most amazing gift you've ever known. In the blink of an eye you're going to see your children grow up and become beautiful and handsome, strong and full of youthful vigor. Some of them might even get married and someday have children of their own. Your gift of youth and beauty will be multiplied many times over as each generation repeats the giving.

Being Pro-Life

noreply@blogger.com (MilitantMom) — Mon, 23 Jan 2012 17:49:00 +0000

"What does being pro-life mean to you?" the reporter asked me after the annual Respect Life Mass at the cathedral in Denver on Saturday. (Update: read the article here).

How do you answer a question like that? I knew she was looking for a few quick quotes to enliven her article, but the soundbites didn't come rolling off my tongue very quickly.

I stammered a bit then told her that for me, being pro-life meant I was living my vocation as a mother to ten children. I saw her eyes widen and she started writing furiously on her notepad. "Ten children..." (that would make good copy!)

But I should have reminded her that it's not about the number of children you have, it's about accepting, loving and cherishing ALL human life. It means loving the unlovable among us.

Mother Teresa was perhaps the best pro-life witness of our modern age and she didn't have any children of her own. But she displayed a profound love for all humanity: the poorest of the poor and those whom society cast aside as not worth our time or attention. But she was not pushover. She stood up to heads of state who wanted to use her for a photo op or political gain and reminded them that being Americans or being rich or being powerful didn't amount to beans if you promoted mothers killing their children as the law of the land.

Mother Teresa didn't march against abortion. She didn't pray outside abortion clinics. She didn't even raise a large family. These things are good and necessary in our fight against abortion, but they aren't the only things we can do to be pro-life. We can live our lives showing love and concern for all. We can witness the love of Christ to others by seeing Jesus in each person.

Being pro-life also means accepting the state in life God has given you. If you are a mother to many young children, then you embrace that and live it to the fullest. If you are childless, or have fewer children than you'd like, you can be a pro-life witness by embracing the cross of childlessness you've been given. Maybe God is calling you to be a parent through adoption. Maybe He's calling you to help at a homeless shelter, crisis pregnancy office, or nursing home.

The reporter also asked me what brought me to the Respect Life Mass that day. I thought of the first time we came to the annual Mass at the cathedral in Denver. Archbishop (now Cardinal) Stafford was there. After the Mass we had a chance to shake hands with His Excellency and in my naivety and boldness of youth, I told him of my difficulty in finding a truly pro-life ob-gyn. (I was expecting my sixth baby at the time). He gave me a look of serious concern, but could offer no solutions.

Now, 17 years later, there are several pro-life doctors in the Denver area. The tide is turning. As Bishop Conley said at the Mass on Saturday, "Science and truth are on our side." Those who deny that life begins at conception are like flat-earthers; they know they can't keep up the facade for long, so they try to change the argument from one based on science to one based on feelings. Truth is truth no matter what. It's not a feeling.

Today, close to a half million marchers in Washington DC will commemorate the 39th anniversary of the Supreme Court Ruling, Roe v. Wade, that legalized the killing of unborn children. 54 million lives have been cut short since that date. 54 million voices have been silenced. I wonder if any of those babies would've grown up to find a cure for cancer? or AIDS? How many more women must suffer the misery of having to choose to kill their child because they see no other option available to them?

Archbishop Chaput, when he was in Denver, was asked by a young person, "What should we do to end abortion?"

He replied, "Go to confession."

The scourge of abortion will end when we all fall down on our knees and recognize our sinfulness and our own need to be forgiven. Only then will we have the compassion of Mother Teresa to embrace all human life and to give mothers an alternative to abortion. But science, truth and prayer are all on our side.

Why I Love Jesus (and Religion Too): an Update

noreply@blogger.com (MilitantMom) — Thu, 19 Jan 2012 19:26:00 +0000

This is another Catholic response that really IS worth watching. From PhatMass.com and Spirit Juice Studios.

Why I Love Jesus (and Religion too)

noreply@blogger.com (MilitantMom) — Mon, 16 Jan 2012 22:33:00 +0000

Just in case you're one of the two people on the planet who hasn't seen Jefferson Bethke's video, "Why I Love Jesus But Hate Religion," (which, at this writing, has over 12 million hits on Youtube), then you'll want to watch his stylistically appealing but content confusing video before proceeding so you'll know what I'm talking about.

I'd like to thank Mr. Bethke for having the courage and the zeal to make his video and put his ideas out there for the world to see and discuss. I believe he's actually doing a service to lukewarm Christians to get them to start thinking about what they do and why they do it. While I strongly disagree with his characterization of religion, I agree with his words about Jesus' saving grace and that He alone is the cause of our salvation. I think what Mr. Bethke meant to say was that empty religion is of no avail. When we do religious things merely to get the approval of others, we aren't doing it for God, therefore we can claim no merit. (Matthew 6:5). Yet, even in the case of the person who goes about doing good merely for human approval, I can see that God could cause much good to come out of it. (Romans 8:28). Others will see his good works and glorify God. (Matthew 5:16 and 1 Peter 2:12). So even though my good works might not help me, they will most certainly help others.

My first reaction to his video was annoyance and that something was terribly wrong with it, but it careened on at such a pace that my mind couldn't possibly refute his arguments as quickly as he was condemning religion and religious people. His delivery was smooth and hip. He mixed some truths with lies so that the lies seemed to go down easier. I don't believe he intentionally lied. I think he's just as much a victim of our culture of relativism as the rest of us. After all, he's no theologian. And by his own admission, he's only been following Christ since 2008. Still, Mr. Bethke has some good points. The beauty of the truth shines in this video, which is why I think it has become so popular. My purpose is not to dissect his arguments. Others have already done so. And I don't want to repeat what has already been said in a most excellent manner by many folks, both Protestant and Catholic. My favorite written response to date is by the kid at Bad Catholic, (read his "Smackdown" here), (P.S. Mr. so-called "Bad Catholic," after my daughter read your response, she said she wants to marry you...I have four unmarried daughters, but I won't tell you which one said that or she'd kill me).

Fortunately, there have been some very clever responses that have been put forth almost as quickly as this thing has gone viral. This one, for example, is almost as artistic as the original...even if they did steal some of the ideas. The content, however, is masterful. And best of all, it's 100% Truth.

Jefferson Bethke is obviously a Christian young man trying to spread the Gospel to a wounded and hurting world. He's been affected by the responses to his video. His video entitled, "Sexual Healing," is a great message to those wounded by promiscuity and pornography and deserves as many views as the "Love Jesus but Hate Religion" video.

The only thing that disturbs me about this video is how he seems to gloss over the struggles of a recovering sex addict. Yes, Jesus saves us from our sin, but the wounds from our sins remain. The addictions, the urges, the sinful thoughts can come back and haunt us and even make us doubt whether or not we've ever been saved. We fallible human beings need a tangible reality to remind us of the spiritual reality. We need a Church. We need religion. Come home to the Catholic Church, Mr. Bethke. We're really just a bunch of sinners trying to love God and get to heaven. We'd love to have you join us.

Beauty is in the Eye of the Beholder

noreply@blogger.com (MilitantMom) — Wed, 11 Jan 2012 22:10:00 +0000

What do women want? We want to be beautiful. (Read: slender, with curves in the right places; some muscle definition but not too much; height without towering over men; teeth perfectly straight and pearly white; hair lush and thick with just the right amount of body, no frizz and absolutely no gray hairs!) We want to be adored (without lust, as Dante loved Beatrice) by men and envied (without hatred, just being held in awe) by other women.

These are unrealistic goals, you say?

Yet we spend billions and billions of dollars each year trying desperately to make our fantasies of beauty come true.

I have an easier solution for all young, unmarried women out there seeking a cheaper alternative to lasting beauty.

Marry a blind guy.

If this isn’t possible, (let’s face it, there are only so many blind guys to go around), then find yourself a good man who thinks you’re beautiful just the way you are. This works especially well if he thinks you’re beautiful when he sees you without make-up or right after a work-out when you’re all sweaty and gross and wearing baggy sweats and your kid brother’s t-shirt. I’m talking about the kind of man who would think you’re still beautiful even when you think you need to loose ten or twenty or thirty pounds. This is the kind of man who will think you’re beautiful even after you’ve had several children and you’re sagging in all the wrong places.

If you’re lucky enough to be married to such a guy, hang on to him. He’s a real keeper.

Guys, if you’re reading this, here’s some information you’re going to want to remember. Women want to be beautiful for you. But mostly they want you to appreciate them for who they are inside. Try to look beyond the messy hair or the other-than-perfect body and look at the beauty of the person inside. Tell her how beautiful she is. Don’t compare her to other women. She isn’t other women. She is unique; one of a kind; a never-before-created and never-will-be created-again masterpiece. Tell her.

Ladies, if you don’t have a man in your life right now, remember you have a Father in heaven who created you and thinks you’re absolutely stunningly perfectly gorgeous right now. He sees beyond the flesh. He sees the heart, the soul, the person whom he created. You are his masterpiece. You are beautiful in his eyes.

Charm is deceitful, and beauty is vain,
but a woman who fears the LORD is to be praised.~Proverbs 31:30

Free Online Homeschooling Conference

noreply@blogger.com (MilitantMom) — Tue, 10 Jan 2012 17:35:00 +0000

We all need a refresher course this time of year to remind us why we're homeschooling. Homeschool Connections is offering several free webinars to help get you through these midwinter doldrums.

And if you've never tried one of their online classes to help supplement your middle or high schooler's courses, be sure to click on my link on the sidebar and take advantage of their great subscription offer.

We're using the subscription service to help us finish off the year strong. My kids are using it for American Government, Economics and Theology: the Old and New Testaments.

Going to "Real" School

noreply@blogger.com (MilitantMom) — Tue, 10 Jan 2012 17:22:00 +0000

What homeschooling parent doesn't consider sending their kids to "real" school this time of year? The Christmas season has passed, the bills are due, the winter doldrums are setting in and most of all, we look at our progress for the school year and compare it to our goals at the beginning of the year and we judge ourselves failures.

Welcome to my world. I have the advantage of doing this on a regular basis for the past 20 years, so I know there's a light at the end of the tunnel. Just as I know the days are starting to get longer and before I know it, summer will be here; I also know that we probably won't finish every book I'd planned on reading, or achieve every educational goal I'd set for ourselves.

I can handle that knowledge because I've also learned to look realistically at what we have achieved. Because I made some modest as well as challenging educational goals at the beginning of the year, I can see that my kids have accomplished many of those goals already. Some we will likely carry over to next year.

But what about the parent or the kid who considers going to a "real" school as a remedy for what is apparently lacking in our homeschool? What makes a "real" school better? What makes a "real" school more real than what we do every day in our homeschool?

I don't believe "real" schools are any more real than homeschooling. In fact, I would argue the opposite. Homeschooling is where "real life" takes place, while brick and mortar schools are contrived, unreal examples of man-made social groupings.

The family is the cornerstone of society. The push by the progressive main stream media notwithstanding, western civilization has thrived these past two millenia because of the stabilizing influence of the family.

"Real" schools have problems of their own. First of all, they have security problems. The sheer size of a student body in a "real" school is likely going to be greater than even the largest Duggeresque homeschooling family. As a result, they have to implement measures to ensure the security and integrity of their schools. Lockdown drills are held. Hall passes must be issued. Role must be taken. Kids have to line up and wait to be called upon and wait for the teachers to dismiss them. Prisons come to mind. Sunny, colorful and faux cheerful maybe, but prisons all the same. They have to make rules and enforce them. The bigger the schools, the more complex the rules. Enforcing these rules takes time away from educating the kids.

Another problem that "real" schools have to face is the fact that the kids don't all learn the same way or at the same pace. Some kids forget to do their homework, while others work ahead and always seem to know the right answer. How's a teacher supposed to effectively teach when she has such a diversity of students? She often teaches to the middle group, leaving those who are slow to become further and further behind and those who are advanced to become bored and disaffected with school. Result: not all the kids are getting the educating they need or deserve.

"Real" schools divide kids into groups according to age. They reinforce the idea that your peer group contains the most important and influential friends you're ever going to have. What they think about you and what they say about you is of greater importance than what your parents or siblings think or say about you. The result is the rise of the idea that teenagers have their own culture, their own ideas and their own way of dealing with the world. Instead of teaching our children to become adults, we're teaching our children to become teenagers and stay there as long as possible to avoid becoming adults. Adults continue to pay for all the things the teenagers want (iPods, cell phones, cars, clothes, piercings, hair colorings), but don't require they have the responsibilities of adults. We let the teenagers make the rules. A "real" life example of this is from a local charter high school that has been rated very high academically. All freshmen are required to take a class called "Teen Choices," which indicates to me that "teen choices" are somehow different from "adult choices." I'm not sure I want my teen making choices that I wouldn't make as an adult.

"Real" schools teach kids that following their rules and conforming to their expectations are the most important thing to do during your formative years. Turning in your assignments, doing the extra credit, pleasing your teachers and being recognized by your peers as being "cool" are the "real" life lessons taught in school.

On the flipside we have the life of a homeschooling family. Family life is messy, noisy, dramatic, chaotic, emotional and very, very real. Our kids don't always get up at the same time every day. They don't always turn in their homework on the day it is due. They have to work at getting along with their siblings. They have to learn to apologize. They sometimes have to do chores or help a younger sibling instead of doing their own math lessons. They sometimes take the entire day off to go exploring the drainage ditch down the street or to learn how to play cribbage with Grandpa. They sometimes spend so much time engrossed in one subject that we run out of time to do anything else that day. And we parents sometimes spend so much time working on discipline and character issues that it seems we haven't accomplished anything academically.

It's amazing our kids learn anything at all. How is it possible that homeschoolers often score higher on standardized testing even when they spend their days like this?

My theory is simple. We don't go to "real" school because life is real. Family life, with all it's interruptions and inconveniences is real life and our kids are learning exactly what they need to know to be real men and women.

Why I'm still homeschooling: 20 years and still going strong

noreply@blogger.com (MilitantMom) — Thu, 15 Dec 2011 16:43:00 +0000

Or, What Taekwondo has Taught Me about Homeschooling

I read something the other day that really irked me. Got me fired up in a mama bear sort of way. A Catholic blogger who used to homeschool wrote, "Anyone who says they enjoy homeschooling is either a beginner or in denial."

Let me take a few moments to deny these charges.

I'm still homeschooling after beginning to homeschool twenty years ago. I'm still enjoying it. Yes, there are days of sheer frustration. My youngest is turning ten years old on Sunday and he's got loads of learning issues. We pulled him out of the state-sponsored special ed program after he languished there for three years. After only four months of working exclusively with Mom and having plenty of time for imaginative play, he's blooming. His progress is slow, but we see genuine progress. His reading ability has improved. His mathematical skills have improved. His handwriting has improved. Yes, I get frustrated when I have to show him twenty times how to do something. But guess what? It pays off after twenty times of showing him the same thing. Maybe the public school paid special ed teacher only had time to show him something nineteen times...or, more likely, two times. I keep working with him till he gets it and not until the bell rings to mark the end of our session.

All kids need attention from parents. Even the most aloof teenager craves parental attention. That's one of the biggest reasons homeschooling works even among families whose parents don't have advanced degrees. They know how to give their kids the attention they need to help them succeed.

I can't tell you how many times one of my high schoolers has asked for help on physics or calculus or some other difficult assignment and just about as soon as she explains the problem to me, she'll say, "Nevermind. I figured it out." The act of explaining the question teaches the mind to think through the solution. Homeschooling allows plenty of time for asking the questions and talking about the solutions.

What does this have to do with taekwondo?

In taekwondo, as in any sport, you have to keep reviewing the basics to stay at your peak. You also have to have the attitude of a white belt. That is, you have to have the mind of a beginner, always ready and willing to learn new things and learn from your mistakes. I'm a black belt in taekwondo, but that doesn't mean I stop learning. I'm still learning and improving even the basic techniques of the sport. In homeschooling, I still feel like I learn something new nearly every day. So I'm trying to keep the attitude of a white belt in my black beltness of a veteran homeschooling mom.

Last night I arrived home late from a workout. My teens had all stayed home because they were tired or not feeling well. I suggested they go to bed if they weren't feeling well. What I saw when I walked in the door wasn't three teenagers not feeling well. It was three teenagers just hanging out, laughing and talking and being silly together. Homeschooling gives family members the time and the space to just hang out and be silly. I couldn't very well be angry at kids for not going to bed when they were having such a great time hanging out together.

Call me a white belt homeschooler. Call me a denier. Call me what you will. I'm still homeschooling and I'm still having a ball.

By the way, if your homeschool needs a little boost from the winter doldrums, be sure to check out the link on my sidebar from Homeschool Connections. They're offering a great deal from now until the end of the month of December. You can log into one of their recorded American history courses and try it out FREE for the next two weeks.

My kids have taken several of their live courses and they have all been GREAT! The instructors they have are top notch. The lectures are interesting and engaging. And it might just give Mom a chance to take a break and finish some Christmas preparations while the kids are listening to the free history lecture.

If you decide to subscribe to their all-inclusive access to their archive of over 70 recorded courses, you can do that through my link for only $1 for the first 7 days and $30 per month after that. Or, you can pay a one-time fee of $330 and have access for an entire twelve months. (That's one month free!)

Thankfulness: Day 5--Homeschooling

noreply@blogger.com (MilitantMom) — Mon, 07 Nov 2011 18:09:00 +0000

There are plenty of reasons to avoid sending your kids to public schools, but I'd like to focus on five reasons I'm thankful I homeschool my kids.

1. I get to parent my kids instead of relying on an outsider. Parents who are active and involved in their kids' lives have a greater influence on their kids' attitudes and behaviors. Schools have gradually adopted the idea that they are to act in place of parents and have shifted their focus from merely teaching the basics of reading, writing and arithmetic, to sex education and politically correct thinking. I'm thankful to be able to spend extra time with my kids and talk to them about life beyond the basics of academia.

2. We get to work on character formation as well as academic formation. This follows upon the first idea that parents should have the most influence on their kids. Unless our kids are well-formed to be responsible, self-disciplined, respectful young adults, their academic formation will be worth diddly-squat. Character formation comes first.

3. I know my kids' needs better than the so-called "experts." This has been proven true to me time and time again. No standardized test can reveal to me things I didn't already know after daily lessons with my kids. We need to work on reading comprehension, spelling, math facts...whatever it is, I'm already on it. In fact, those standardized tests can't tell me some things I'm quite aware of. Junior may need work on his cursive writing or his study habits, or his attention to detail. These are things I know about without having an expert tell me.

4. We have time to nurture creativity. Home learning is often more laid back, relaxed and less stressful than school. We're free to explore questions and lines of inquiry that might not be on the lesson plan for the day. We're free to ditch the entire day's lesson plan if the weather beckons us outside to explore the natural world rather than our textbooks. When I think back on what I learned in school, most things that come to mind aren't in textbooks. They're things I did or experienced. Field trips, story time, active movement. Those types of things have a way of engaging the brain that passive learning can't.

5. We are the school of life. Everything kids need to learn to be responsible adults can be learned at home. Learning how to learn and how to be an independent learner are skills that I believe are best learned at home. Schools are good at teaching kids how to conform, how to get along with others (in other words, avoid the bullies), follow the rules and turn in your work on time. The trend in schools towards collaborative learning kills the independent spirit that gave us men like Benjamin Franklin and Thomas Edison. A couple of my kids were recently told by a teacher the best way to learn is in a group setting and that it's nearly impossible to learn anything on your own. I think Abraham Lincoln would have disagreed with that statement, as would millions of homeschoolers.

Today I'm thankful for the opportunity to homeschool my kids.

Thankfulness: Day 4--Life

noreply@blogger.com (MilitantMom) — Fri, 04 Nov 2011 21:41:00 +0000

This morning I woke up to an aching lower back; sore and stiff muscles in my legs, abs, and rear; one painful jammed big toe; the other big toe with the beginnings of an ingrown toenail; and a right hamstring that hasn't quite healed from being torn this summer. And I'm feeling pretty darned good about all this.

Maybe it's my unusually high threshold for pain after eight non-medicated labors and deliveries. Maybe it's because I've already strained or torn so many muscles that I've forgotten what it's like to not have them. But I think my aches and pains are gentle reminders that I am ALIVE. No, I've never had a near death experience--unless you consider the two times I THOUGHT I was going to die, but in reality I wasn't.* No, I just consider the aches and pains and sore muscles are part of the normal course of life and are reminders that I can touch, see, hear, smell and taste all the wonders of this world. In short, I'm alive.

Recently I tried to explain my enjoyment of pain to my physical therapist when I was being seen for that torn hamstring. I first tore it on the 4th of July weekend when I was at the park with my kids. The grass was so green, and the sky was so blue, I decided to do a cartwheel with my kids. The first one was great, but my husband told me it didn't look as good as my 16 year old daughter's cartwheel. Something about my legs not being as high as hers. So I really put myself into the next one. At some point, as I was kicking my legs up into the air, I felt and heard a tear in my derrière. (No, I didn't enjoy that pain, but I managed to limp home and sit on an ice pack for an hour or so). I was recovered enough to dance at my eldest daughter's wedding two weeks later. After the wedding, while sparring my 14 year old second-degree black belt daughter at taekwondo, I threw a round kick to her head and felt and heard that awful tearing again. This time I didn't limp home. I drove home in agony and sat on the ice pack for a couple of days. (Still not enjoying the pain). A few weeks later, thinking I was fully recovered, I decided to teach the little kids how to do the Russian splits off the diving board at the pool. As soon as I kicked my legs out I realized this was a BAD IDEA. When I was in the water I knew I wasn't going to be able to walk out of the pool. (No, I didn't enjoy this pain at all. I crawled out of the pool like some primordial fish trying desperately to evolve into a land creature but destined to die, gasping and groaning, on the shore.) But this third injury taught me a valuable lesson. I really needed to listen to my body and give it a chance to recover. It was at this point I decided I'd better have an expert take a look at it to tell me when I could resume normal activities. After giving the doctor the gory details of my three injuries, he gave me a wry smile and a slip of paper referring me to a physical therapist. He suppressed a chuckle as he told me I had given him "a great visual."

While telling my story to the physical therapist at my first visit, I explained my delay in seeking medical attention was due to my rather high threshold for pain and how sometimes a little bit of pain was actually enjoyable. I didn't want to come across as masochistic. But I needn't have worried. She understood. She told me how she ran a 10k with a broken foot and didn't even know it was broken until after the race. I had found a kindred spirit!

Now that I've been given a clean bill of health, with an admonition to listen to my body, stretch the hamstring carefully and avoid cartwheels, round kicks to the head and Russian splits for a while, I'm back at taekwondo trying to keep up with the twenty-something male instructor who barks directions at us every nano-second. "Fifty push-ups side kicks jumping jacks sit-ups spin hook kicks on each leg...GO!" Which means today I'm feeling those aches and sore muscles. And it feels great.

Today I'm thankful for the aches and pains that mean I'm ALIVE.

*Maybe those experiences could be topics for future postings. Both were traumatic. One had a happy ending, the other a sad ending. I'll stick to happy endings for now.

Thankfulness: Day 3--Friends

noreply@blogger.com (MilitantMom) — Thu, 03 Nov 2011 22:23:00 +0000

If you're a mom of young children, chances are you don't get to spend much time hanging out with friends. "Moms' Night Out" is an infrequent luxury. Time to chat over coffee (or a glass of wine) comes rarely, and those times we eke out after church or picking up kids from activities are too often interrupted by our darling children.

I'm thankful for those friends who put up with my infrequent contact or my inability to spend much time with them. I'm thankful for the time I do get to spend with friends and I cherish it in part because it comes so infrequently.

I'm thankful for the internet and Facebook, which helps me stay in touch with old, far-away friends, as well as new "virtual" friends. My husband and kids don't understand this idea of "virtual" friends. That is, friends whom I only know online and haven't really met in person. It's actually quite fun to meet these virtual friends (usually at homeschooling gatherings) and when my husband and kids have had the chance to meet some of my online friends and their families in person, they've been pleasantly surprised. And I've even had the chance to get together with old friends thanks to being in touch on Facebook. It's so much fun to re-connect with old school mates and find out what's been going on in their lives for the past 20 or 30 years.

So, for all my friends, both old and new, near and far-away, I'll offer up a prayer of thanks for you today.

Thankfulness: Day 2--Purgatory

noreply@blogger.com (MilitantMom) — Wed, 02 Nov 2011 20:58:00 +0000

Today is November 2nd, All Soul's Day, the day we especially remember the souls of the faithful departed who are awaiting unity with God in heaven. Purgatory is the name we give to the place where these souls undergo their final purgation, or cleansing, before entering into the beatific vision.

Pugatory isn't an easy thing for me to write about, particularly since it wasn't a part of my spiritual formation as a Protestant. But when I think of the mercy of God, it becomes much easier to comprehend.

For our God is truly a loving and merciful God. We know this is true because he sent his only begotten Son, the Word made flesh, to be born of a human mother. He was dependent upon her and his foster father for protection and the basics of life because, although he was God, he was also a helpless newborn. He came down from heave to save people from their sins and enter into a deeper relationship with all mankind. He lived among the people of his time in poverty and humility. Then, he who was without sin, was convicted as a common criminal, to suffer an ignominious death on a cross on our behalf, all because of the unspeakable mercies of God. If God would go to all that trouble, just to extend his mercy and love to all peoples for all times, shouldn't we clean up our act a little bit before we pop on over to heaven? Maybe scrub our hands and faces and put on some wedding clothes before the great wedding feast?

I think of those people we all know who may not have professed a faith in Jesus while alive, but tried, for the most part, to live a good life. The all-loving and all-merciful God wants nothing more than to spend eternity with them in heaven. Couldn't he give them one very last chance at saying "yes" to Christ's atoning death? Perhaps at that point of death, when all truth is revealed, the soul will have a chance to see themselves as they truly are before God and to choose life or death; heaven or hell. But wouldn't that soul, once saved, need a little final polishing before being ushered into heaven? Wouldn't it be a good idea if they were given a chance to atone for some of their wrong doings? At this point, Protestants may say, "Christ's death atoned for sin! There is no more atonement to be done!" Yes, he forgave us and he paid the ultimate price for our sin. But we also have some culpability to acknowledge. The owner of the broken window may have forgiven us for hitting a baseball through the window, but we are still responsible for fixing the broken window. Our free will is still free to hold on to anger, malice, greed, lust and pride. We have to get rid of all those. We have to fix our broken windows.

Dante Alighieri, in the second book of the Divine Comedy, Purgatorio, has given us a vivid image of the suffering souls in purgatory. They are suffering with joy because they know they are only there temporarily and their ultimate destination is heaven. Their suffering is intense because they long to finish their atonement quickly. Whenever the main character, Dante himself, stops to question any of the souls in purgatory, they never stop or pause in their toils. They answer his questions but also tell him they must not tarry--they must quickly go and continue in their work of purgation. They also ask him for prayers, for they can not pray for themselves, only for others. The only time there is indication they pause in their work is when the bells toll and songs ring out for a soul that has completed his time in purgatory and is released into heaven. Then all of purgatory rejoices together. When I read the Divine Comedy with my high school students last year, Purgatorio was my favorite book. It seemed so real to me. It was far easier to comprehend than Inferno or Paradiso. Dante had painted a picture of purgatory that appealed to my frail human psyche. The top of Mount Purgatory holds the Garden of Eden; the place God made for mankind before the fall. The place we were all meant to be before sin entered into the world. Dante's description of the Garden appealed to my senses because it was an earthly paradise and I can only fathom that which my senses have known. The joys of heaven are beyond description and beyond my human comprehension.

In C.S. Lewis's children's story, The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, Eustace Scrubb is turned into a fiery dragon, and can only be redeemed by Aslan's peeling off his dragon skin and bathing him. Aslan tells him he must undress before getting into the water, so Eustace peels off several layers of his dragon skin. But there is still another layer that he can't remove without Aslan's help. It's a painful experience for poor Eustace. He describes it as such: "The very first tear he made was so deep that I thought it had gone right into my heart. And when he began pulling the skin off, it hurt worse than anything I've ever felt. The only thing that made me able to bear it was just the pleasure of feeling the stuff peel off." Surely purgatory must be something like that. We can only shed our sinful pleasures to a certain degree, but to go really deep, we'll need some divine help.

The national news was filled with the story of "the six last words of Steve Jobs" this past week. When I first heard the news anchor report the story, I chuckled. I thought it was a joke. But the news outlets were all agog. The six amazing words spoken by Steve Jobs as he looked past his wife and children? "Oh wow. Oh wow. Oh wow." Then he died.

Yep, I'm thankful for purgatory.

Thankfulness--Day 1: My family

noreply@blogger.com (MilitantMom) — Tue, 01 Nov 2011 21:02:00 +0000

old picture...the dog is now big enough to be holding a couple of kids

From time to time my wonderful husband and kids remind me that I haven't been writing much lately. Life has been busy and my thoughts too random to take the time and energy needed to rein in a few, organize them and publish them for the world to see. Frankly, I find myself quite fulfilled with my own family and circle of friends to bother much with the wider world of the blogosphere.

But my oldest son recommended I choose a theme and write about that for a while. All day yesterday, different themes have been running through my mind and I wondered if I had enough material to write much about one or the other...or enough Christian charity to write about moral or political issues and still have something to say.

I've decided to attempt a blog posting a day in November with the theme of thankfulness.

My family immediately comes to mind, with my long-suffering husband at the top of the list. They see me at my worst, but they still love me. They take my angry outbursts and (sometimes) illogical emotional displays without holding a grudge. They encourage and support me. They show me unconditional love.

Thank you, my dear husband, for not calling me crazy (even though I thought I must be crazy) when I first mentioned the idea of homeschooling 21 years ago. Thank you for supporting me when I was a working mother of one infant with one on the way and I was commuting 3 hours a day to my job as a Navy lieutenant in Washington, DC. I was always exhausted--emotionally and physically drained--but you never scolded me for a messy house or a lousy dinner (a most attractive feature which you display to this day). You always tell me how gorgeous I am, even when I don't feel gorgeous. You have always given me everything I ever desired. I could never have been a mom to ten or homeschooled for even one single day if it weren't for your great love and support. Thank you for being my helpmate and companion these past 25 years.

Thank you to my ten super kids for helping me learn to love without counting the cost and for helping me to understand that I'm really not the one in charge of you. (Shhhh...don't read this to your younger siblings). You are masters of your own destiny and I love seeing what you're becoming. God has great things planned for each of you. Never forget that you are special; planned from all eternity to play an important role in this great drama we call life. Reach for the stars, but keep your feet firmly planted on the earth.

I'm grateful for my parents, who gave me life and raised me to be a responsible young adult. They set my feet on the right path and gave me the freedom to set my own course in life. I'm grateful for my grandparents, great-grandparents, and all their parents and grandparents, for if even one of them had not been around or had said "no" to life, then I wouldn't be here either.

Fatherless: A Modern Tragedy

noreply@blogger.com (MilitantMom) — Fri, 12 Aug 2011 16:36:00 +0000

Fatherless by Brian J. Gail

My rating: 3 of 5 stars

Although 536 pages sounds like a lot to get through, this book was a pretty quick read. While it started out seeming contrived and predictable, it got better the further along I read. Perhaps it was the structure of the book that kept me hooked: several story lines progressing simultaneously with each chapter left me eager for the next installment.

First the bad news: The word "cheesy" comes to mind, but only because I thought the characters were stereotypical post-Vatican II American Catholics. I felt like the author was hitting me over the head with scientific analysis of the action of the birth control pill through conversations that seemed over-the-top unrealistically earnest. There was at least one editorial comment that was left in the book and a few other areas that weren't edited well. I was annoyed that "Coors Light" would be followed by a trademark logo, but "Michelob" was not. I was amused when the characters in the book (including a priest) expressed shock to hear the Pill could act as an abortifacient and was complicit in the rise of breast cancer. I thought everyone already knew that, but perhaps not. (The story takes place sometime in the late 80's, I believe. Perhaps the actions of the Pill weren't as well known then). If the author's purpose was to inform an uneducated Catholic population of the dangers of hormonal contraceptives and the secularization of our culture, then he succeeded admirably. Getting those folks to read this book might be difficult. Having them understand it as based in fact might be even more difficult.

Now the good news: I'm still thinking about the story several days after finishing the book. There was something deep in the book that the cheese and stereotypes couldn't completely mask. And the story, which was rather depressing yet left the reader with a glimmer of hope, is a true story of the Catholic Church in America and the Western world. Our culture has produced a lot of messed up families, marriages and lives. But Our Lord promised he wouldn't leave us as orphans and he hasn't. The Church has been immensely blessed in these dark days, with two great pontiffs: Blessed John Paul the Great and our current pope, Benedict XVI. We have every reason to hope in the future.

I must admit, I'm "hooked," and will read his next book, in The American Tragedy in Trilogy: Motherless. I wonder if there will be any stereotypical homeschoolers in it?

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What's Wrong with Feminism?

noreply@blogger.com (MilitantMom) — Fri, 03 Jun 2011 17:03:00 +0000

The Flipside of Feminism: What Conservative Women Know -- and Men Can't Say by Suzanne Venker

My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Author Suzanne Venker dares to express the unspoken thoughts of many women (and perhaps an equally large number of men) who have been indoctrinated by the philosophies of modern feminism that something is wrong with the way we view the roles of men and women. What's wrong with feminism? Venker dares to tell it like it is. She gives compelling examples from both sides of the debate using their own arguments to show us how feminism has messed up society and our happiness as men and women by telling us our traditional roles don't matter. Feminism insists women are just as capable of being in the workforce as are men and denies the basic fact that children are happier and better adjusted when they have their mothers at home. Venker masterfully lays out the agenda of feminists and shows how government has taken the place of husbands as providers of families in order to keep more mothers in the workforce. The result has been devastating to children, mothers and the fathers who have been cast aside by feminists who view them as disposable.

The women's movement and modern feminism is nearly 50 years old and what has it gotten us? Higher divorce rates thanks in part to no-fault divorce laws, single motherhood at an unprecedented rate of 40%, and sexually transmitted diseases at an all-time high. Meanwhile, abortion on demand has resulted in the destruction of 53 million lives. That's one-sixth the population of the United States that have been terminated since Roe v. Wade became the law of the land in 1973. To put it into perspective, that's the current combined populations of Alaska, Arkansas, Connecticut, Delaware, Hawaii, Idaho, Iowa, Kansas, Kentucky, Louisiana, Maine, Mississippi, Montana, Oregon, Oklahoma, Nebraska, Nevada, New Hampshire, North Dakota, South Dakota, Rhode Island, Utah, Vermont, West Virginia and Wyoming. Something is wrong with a society that says it's more important for women to continue to live their lives for themselves than to bring new life into the world.

I was raised with the notion that women are equal to men and have just as many opportunities available to them. However, no one told me about the deeply-rooted mother bear that lurked inside me making me feel as if my heart had been ripped out each morning when I'd drop my toddler daughter off at the day care center only to return 8 or more hours later and see her still crying and alone in the corner. My protective instinct wanted to whisk her away from the child care professionals who insisted she only needed to be "broken in" and everything would be fine. When her brother was born, my biology told me my baby needed to nurse, and sitting in a bathroom stall trying to express milk, while he was miles away with another mother being paid to care for him, wasn't going to cut it. I was convinced my children needed me home more than the Navy needed me, so I resigned my commission with all the perks and benefits of being an officer, in order to stay home and change diapers, coax children to sleep at naptime and be there when they awoke.

This book has challenged me to re-think some of my long-held beliefs that women and men can and should do the same things. My own experiences as a wife and mother of many children, along with recent scientific studies that show the significant differences in male and female physiological and psychological make-up, tells me the differences between males and females are far greater than our sexual organs.

This is an important book that should be read by all parents and educators.

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Why we need to learn Latin

noreply@blogger.com (MilitantMom) — Fri, 13 May 2011 21:56:00 +0000

The Devil Knows Latin: Why America Needs the Classical Tradition by E. Christian Kopff

My rating: 3 of 5 stars

In his introduction, University of Colorado Classics Professor Kopff, relates the source of his book's title. The late Fr. Ronald Knox, when asked to perform a baptism in the vernacular, responded: "The baby does not understand English and the Devil knows Latin."

The professor recommends the study of classical literature in their original language (likely Latin or Greek). He convinced me by page 26, that we should be learning Latin and that it was by no means a dead language. He tells us, "...of the 100 most commonly used words in English, only 10 or so come from Latin. Of all the English words, however--over a million in the latest dictionaries--more than half are of Latin origin, and those of Greek origin take up much of what remains."

The book is divided into three sections. The first section details the reasons we need to study the classics. The classics are narratives that tell a story and the story relates to who we are as human beings in the Western tradition. Learning the stories of our civilization helps us to put all the pieces of our education together. We begin to understand why we have the history we have and the underlying causes of world events throughout our history. We begin to understand how language, science, math, art and music fit into this enormous puzzle. We begin to understand the part religion, and Christianity in particular, plays. In short, our lives make more sense when we understand how all the pieces fit together and how we fit into the story.

The first section has other great insights as well. For example, the idea that tradition limits our creativity and advancement, he puts to rest. He points out "...languages are traditions learned by each generation from the preceding one and then taught to the next." Likewise, religion, science and history, are all built upon traditions. Prof. Kopff points out the beginning of science was in the sixth century B.C., when a man named Thales first proposed the world was "...a rational system, comprehensible to human minds," without relying on ancient gods for explanation. That the world is a rational system is itself a profound idea and one that we too often take for granted today. So, the first assumption in science is that the Universe is ordered and the second is that it is logical. These two ideas go back to the sixth century B.C. The third assumption of science is that the Universe is mathematical. This goes back to Pythagoras, who lived at the end of the sixth century B.C. Thus began the tradition of science.

The chapter of the first section outlines the need for the classics and the liberal arts in our grammar schools, high schools and universities. Kopff recommends children in the early years start out learning the three R's, followed by Latin, Greek and mathematics. The other subjects he recommends: history, mythology, English vocabulary and syntax and basics of government, can be taught in relation to the first subjects.

The second section discusses widely varying authors, philologists and philosophers. It was with this section that I found the most difficulty following the thread that links them all together. I felt rather like I'd stumbled into one of his classroom lectures by mistake. I was unprepared and unfamiliar with most of the names he was discussing so intimately. His somewhat frequent references to President Bill Clinton and the Monica Lewinsky scandal were rather amusing though dated. I wondered what the good professor would have to say about our present state of affairs.

The third section discusses popular culture--specifically movies--and how the ones that are most meaningful get their inspiration or find their source in some of the great classics of ancient Greece and Rome. Once again I found myself stumbling along with many of his stories since I haven't seen most of the movies he discusses and those I had seen, I wasn't always as thrilled about them as he was. For example, he thought Disney's "The Lion King" had "character and maturity." I prefer "Beauty and the Beast" for a moral tale of redemption and sacrifice.

The book reads like a collection of lectures put together to make a book. If I had been in his class and read the reading list before attending his lectures, maybe I would've better understood some of his points. Although I liked the book, it's probably not one I'd recommend to homeschoolers who want to know why they should study the classics. Leigh Bortins' book, "The Core," does a much better job of that.

The appendix, aptly entitled, "Doing it on Your Own," would be a great booklet for homeschoolers, especially if it were combined with the first section of the book. Prof. Kopff lists his suggestions for Latin curriculum to do at home, as well as Greek, along with some primary sources that would be good for beginning Latin and Greek students to read in the original.

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Gloomy Day Ranting

noreply@blogger.com (MilitantMom) — Thu, 12 May 2011 16:12:00 +0000

I was going to write a witty and wonderful book review today, but my heart just isn't in it. Perhaps it's because we're into day two of the Great Deluge. We desert-dwellers who worship the sun don't do very well when our 70 and 80-degree dry sunny days are interrupted by two days of torrential downpours of rain then snow then rain then snow. It really contributes to a generally gloomy feeling.

What I really wanted to vent about is the gloomy state of our local public education system. Before I begin my diatribe, let me preface it by saying, yes, I know there are excellent teachers in the public schools. I'm not blaming the teachers who actually care about the students and the education they receive. Sadly, I'm convinced most of the teachers today really don't care about the quality of education in the schools and the main reason they don't care is because they aren't even aware of the severe deficit in knowledge that has occurred in the United States in the past 60 years or so. They can't possibly know because they didn't receive a well-rounded education themselves. And the reason they didn't receive a well-rounded education is because their teachers hadn't received a well-rounded education.

Maybe I should first define what I mean by a well-rounded education and also let you know that I have not received a well-rounded education. The only reason I know I haven't received a well-rounded education is because I know I don't know much and I've read books by people who are much more knowledgeable than myself. So please keep that in mind when you read what I have to say. A well-rounded education consists of a basic foundation in the classical Western tradition of literature, history and mathematics, with a fundamental knowledge of at least one classical language (such as Latin or Greek) and at least one modern language (sign language doesn't count). An educated person understands the basics of logic and doesn't engage in illogical reasoning except for amusement. An educated person listens to the arguments of others (provided they are also logical) and can passionately argue a point without bashing the person with whom he (or she...see, I can be PC when I want to be) is arguing. (I know I'm missing a bunch of those elements in my own education, but I'm trying to continue learning. That's one of the perks of homeschooling your kids for a generation or more...you get a second chance to learn the things you didn't learn the first time around!)

How many of today's teachers have received this type of education? Most of them, I suspect, were taught by progressive professors who dismissed classical Western thought as so much yesterday's garbage. Darwin, Mead, Freud, Kant, Rousseau...these are the thinkers for the 21st century. Oh, wait, not many of today's teachers had to read any of these people, I would venture to guess. Instead, commitment to diversity and teaching kids to save the rain forests, stop global warming and have safe sex are the top priorities. We've moved away from the idea that the past has something to teach us to the idea that we know best how to form the future in to our own image. Popular culture is our teacher now.

Kids today are crying out for attention (as I'm sure they have always done). But as our culture has taken away the standards of decency that for so long permeated all levels of society, young people have to resort to even more extreme methods to get our attention. I know kids who praise and admire kids (who are still children, by the way) who embrace an alternative lifestyle. The popular kids are those who change their hair color every week, pierce unusual body parts and talk freely of sex, drugs and booze.

The young men use young women for their own gratification and they have their own cars (or the free use of their parents' cars) despite not having a job of their own. These same young men either wear skin-tight jeans they must've bought in the little girls' section of the department store, or they wear jeans that are so loose the crotch is at their knees. I know they must put a lot of thought into their clothing because they always have some sort of plaid or interesting print boxer shorts they proudly display as their pants fall down below their butts. (I often wonder: Who buys these boxers? I've seen them in the stores and I always end up buying the white briefs that come in jumbo packs of 6 pairs for $7 or $8. Those designer boxers cost about that much for one pair! Are their moms buying those expensive boxers for their sons to flash around town? Or are the jobless sons saving all their non-hard-earned cash to buy them for themselves?)

These kids dismiss religion as old-fashioned and outmoded and instead cling to darkness in music, appearance and lifestyle. In some cases, the parents either approve or at least don't disapprove. The parents might own a medical marijuana dispensary or the kids might be products of broken families. The only stability in their lives are the teachers in the schools they attend, but all the teachers know how to do is instruct them on deconstructing traditional values and replacing them with feminist and socialist ideologies. The teachers make a show of telling the kids to question authority but by that they really only mean question someone else's authority.

I can't end a post on a gloomy note. No matter how bad it seems, we Christians know the battle has already been won for us. There's a song that I love that's played on the Christian radio station by a group called Tenth Avenue North. The song is called "Healing Begins," and for me, it's a song about the grace of confession. The reality is the grace of confession and the love of Christ conquers all sin and death. My favorite two lines in the song are: "Sparks will fly as grace collides/ With the dark inside of us." Grace is powerful. It collides with darkness. It makes sparks. It is a cleansing fire. It is light.

All parents are home educators to some degree or another. We all have influence over our children, whether we like it or not. They will see the good that we do as well as the bad. Parenting is perhaps the hardest job on earth. On a rainy day like today my thoughts are gloomy and my heart breaks for the kids who have no one to guide them in the way of the Good, the True and the Beautiful. But I know in the end the Light will win. Because the Darkness can not overcome it. Sparks will fly as grace collides.

A Feminist Critique

noreply@blogger.com (MilitantMom) — Sat, 07 May 2011 23:29:00 +0000


Official Navy recruiting poster

I'm a recovering feminist. I used to subscribe to "Ms." magazine. I used to have a t-shirt emblazoned with the motto, "A woman needs a man like a fish needs a bicycle," and I actually believed it. I was going to have a career in the Navy and if I ever did get married (which I probably wouldn't) or have kids (which I probably wouldn't) I would have someone else do all the mindless domestic chores, the "woman's work," which the feminist movement told me was so demeaning to me. If I played my cards right, perhaps I could marry a docile man who would support my career and stay home to take care of the children that I probably wouldn't have.

Some who know me peripherally might think I'm still a feminist. Although I left the naval service a long time ago to become a stay-at-home mom, I recently earned my black belt in taekwondo. I'm an expert pistol shot (or used to be). I can hammer a nail straight. Yesterday I fixed a toilet.

I believe in the equal value of women in the workplace, government, and society; just laws that give equal protection to women; and instilling in our daughters the motivation and desire to succeed academically and professionally. I believe women are just as smart as men and are capable of handling stressful and difficult situations just as well as men.

Me as a plebe (first year midshipman), c. 1981

But don't call me a feminist. Feminists are angry with men and believe the root of all evil in the world is caused by men. Feminists preach that women must be free from their biology and be like men in order to be valuable members of society. Feminists are so obsessed with being like men that they have euphemisms like "reproductive rights," which actually mean the opposite of what the words mean. They don't want the right to reproduce; they want the right to avoid reproduction. They assist men in being irresponsible for their behavior by giving them an easy way to avoid paternity.

The growing problem of pornography in our culture proves that women are still exploited and are more vulnerable to sexual exploitation than men. In feminism's refusal to acknowledge the differences between men and women, they have contributed to this problem.

Men are no longer expected to be the primary breadwinner in a family, since women are just as capable of bringing home a good salary as men. In fact, men have become the disposable part of a family today as many more women are choosing single motherhood to fulfill their need to become mothers without the burden of finding a suitable mate. (In some cases, there just aren't marriageable men around. As the ratio of women to men on college campuses nationwide nears the 60 to 40% ratio, fewer men are choosing higher education and are instead choosing to live in their parents' basements playing computer games.)

No wonder so many men are jumping on the feminism bandwagon.

My evolution from feminine mystique to feminist critique came to completion with Motherhood. I was determined to bring up my boys without gunplay or violence. Despite my navy experience as a 45-caliber pistol instructor, I didn't own a gun and didn't want them in my house...even play guns. Yet my little boys made guns out of everything. Sticks, Legos, toothbrushes. You name it, they shot, fired and exploded it.

It wasn't just the gunplay that confounded me. I began to notice they'd go into zombie mode whenever flickering images were near. They would throw hysterical tantrums when I'd shut off the television. They've outgrown the TV tantrum, but they're still prone to computer gaming addiction. This has never been a problem with the girls. They might spend hours on the computer, but it's because they're on Facebook chatting with friends, not playing computer games. Though not the stereotypical girly-girl frills and laces types, the girls are more relationship oriented than the boys. Friendships are critical to their well-being. They're more sensitive to the feelings of others. I didn't do anything nurture-wise to make my boys and girls behave differently. They're just wired that way. (Dare I say, God made them that way?) Scientific studies confirm what all mothers and teachers intuitively know: boys and girls are wired differently.

The Wall Street Journal published an article on May 4, 2011, which said the tears of men and women are profoundly different. A study on crying was conducted by Ad Vingerhoets, a professor of clinical psychology who focuses on stress and emotion at Tilburg University in the Netherlands.

It turns out women are biologically wired to shed more tears than men. Men have larger tear ducts, which means women's tear ducts fill up and spill over more quickly than men's. Testosterone can also help put the brakes on crying, which may be the reason older men tend to cry more often than younger men. Tears are full of hormones and proteins. One of the hormones in tears is prolactin, which is a lactation catalyst. Young women have 50% - 60% more prolactin in their bloodstream than young men do, which could also explain why women cry more often than men. In other words, it's not all social conditioning.

Dr. Vingerhoets conducted a project in 37 countries to compare the different rates of crying among men and women. Women in developed Western economies cry much more than men, and much more than women in societies where women have fewer rights, he says.

As to why women in developed countries cry more often than women who have fewer rights, my theory is that women who are infused with modern notions of feminism are so conflicted with competing roles of breadwinner, nurturer, and swimsuit model thinness that they cry more often. After all, modern feminism's mantra has always been that women can "have it all." Having it all has come with a price tag, which is the loss of true femininity, which values women for their femaleness, not for how much they can be like males.

During the five years I served as a naval officer I got married and had three children. I no longer wanted to be a career woman because I felt I wouldn't serve my kids well if I was serving my country. I wanted to give myself totally to my vocation as a mother. When I resigned my commission as a naval officer, I had to write a letter explaining my reasons. I remember writing something about having to make a choice between being a good naval officer or being a good mom. I knew there were lots of people who could fill my shoes as a naval officer but I was the only one who could be a mother to my children. It was an easy decision for me and one I've never regretted. We've since added seven more kids to our family and I've had the privilege of homeschooling them all. I never could have done that if I'd stayed in the navy. I'm thankful for the generosity and support of my dear husband whose tireless devotion to his family enables me to stay home and take care of the kids. In some ways, I feel like I really do have it all.


embracing true feminism

Book review: "The Core"

noreply@blogger.com (MilitantMom) — Thu, 05 May 2011 20:24:00 +0000

A year ago I first heard about "Classical Conversations," a Protestant organization that promotes classical education among homeschoolers and has co-ops throughout the country. I looked into their program and was very excited about what I was reading. We decided not to participate, however, when it became apparent there were some anti-Catholic elements in the curriculum and Statement of Faith. While I can't recommend the group to Catholics, I can, however, strongly recommend The Core: Teaching Your Child the Foundations of Classical Education, by Leigh Bortins, the founder of Classical Conversations. You can read my book review here.

Homeschooling through High School--Community College

noreply@blogger.com (MilitantMom) — Thu, 07 Apr 2011 05:38:00 +0000

There's been a lot of discussion among our local homeschool group about sending high school kids to community college. At first glance, it sounds like a great idea. The local school districts will fund homeschooler's tuition at one of our many local community colleges. All they ask is that the kid pass the course, which for most homeschoolers is probably pretty darned easy. (At least that's what I've been told from kids who've been there). Plus, it sounds uber cool to say, "My kid goes to college," when they're only 16. Doogie Howser meets Dougie the Homeschooler. Somehow it's supposed to legitimize homeschooling through high school. Which, by the way, is a pretty daunting task and you'll certainly encounter more than a few raised eyebrows if you dare to tell people (or your mother) that you plan on homeschooling little Dougie past elementary school. But, if you can tell Grandma that Dougie is enrolled at Local Area Community College and he'll actually earn *gasp* COLLEGE CREDITS!! she can proudly tell all her Bunco friends that Dougie is going to college and they can "ooh" and "aah" to Grandma's delight.

But...(you knew there was a BUT coming, didn't you?) how do you know that Dougie will actually learn something meaningful at Local Area Community College? (I'll just call it "LACC" for short). Being a thoughtful homeschooler, you actually like to know what your kid is learning and you understand that institutionalized education doesn't always teach your kids the things you want them to learn, least of all the things that you know they really need to know like how to get ten loads of laundry done, the bathrooms cleaned, the dog vomit scrubbed out of the carpet, the Legos picked up from the living room floor, the grocery shopping done, the kids' scrubbed and dinner made all in time for Fr. Smith to come for dinner.

Maybe that's not really what you think your kids need to know in order to be responsible adults. Maybe you want them to actually know some History or some English Literature or some Calculus or some Spanish. Maybe you've checked into LACC's History department and you know that Dougie will get some excellent instruction in U.S. Constitutional History. Or maybe the English department has an excellent reputation for classical literature. If that's the case, then LACC may be a great way for Dougie to further his education. Unfortunately that's often not the case. Most high school students, for some blithering reason, tend to take courses like: Psychology, Sociology or History of Oppressed Minorities Like Gays and Women.

But Mrs. Jones sends her kids to LACC and she tells you how great it is because they're going to save TONS of money on college since the state (I mean taxpayers) are picking up the tab for her kids' first two years of college. What Mrs. Jones failed to tell you (probably because she doesn't know it yet herself) is that unless the kid has an unusually highly developed sense of responsible planning, he will most likely take some classes at LACC that are completely useless for his future major (which he'll probably change a half dozen times anyway). Or that should her kid actually want to go to a college out of state, the chances of all those LACC credits being accepted are pretty small.

And believe it or not, there can actually be a problem with skipping your freshman year at a four-year college. If you or Dougie are interested in getting the full "college experience," then freshman year is a vital part of that. Two of our four kids who've graduated high school thus far have gone on to Catholic colleges with a visible Catholic identity on campus. There's nothing wrong with skipping that first awkward year of college, but it's not necessarily a good thing either.

We've purposely avoided sending our kids to community college during high school. Why? My first thought is that the large number of high school-aged kids going to community colleges has really dumbed down both the community college and high school. Homeschooling through high school entails branching out from the kitchen table to acquire more real-world experiences. But that doesn't mean shuttling kids off to a community college during some of their most formative young adult years. Some of the parents who send their kids to a community college wouldn't dream of sending the same kid to their local public high school.

If its college credits you're after, look into having your son or daughter take a CLEP test after finishing up a course at home. The CLEP tests are far cheaper than a community college course, at $77 per test. Plus, since they're standardized by the College Board, they're probably accepted at more four-year colleges than the credits from LACC would be. And, Dougie can start taking them as young as he wants. Just find a CLEP testing location and sign up.

Finally, keep in mind that not all colleges will accept community college credits or CLEP exams. For example, the top choices of my two high school kids right now are Wyoming Catholic College and Thomas Aquinas College. Both are Great Books schools whose students study the same courses each year. Everyone has the same major (liberal arts), so getting college credits in high school is a moot point for them. They need to develop strong foundations in the liberal arts through broad reading and learn good study skills to help them in college.

There's no one-size-fits-all description of the perfect homeschool high school program. Some kids may benefit from a rigorous community college preparation or using community college to gain some vocational skills. But I suspect most high schoolers would benefit more from having a rigorous high school program combined with real-world experiences and practical applications. (More to come).

"UnPlanned": The Abby Johnson story

noreply@blogger.com (MilitantMom) — Fri, 11 Mar 2011 20:28:00 +0000

Unplanned: The Dramatic True Story of a Former Planned Parenthood Leader's Eye-Opening Journey across the Life Line by Abby Johnson

My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Abbey Johnson was the director of a Planned Parenthood abortion clinic in Bryan, Texas until the day she walked off the job and sought refuge at the Coalition for Life offices down the street from that clinic. She tells the story of how she went from naive college student, wanting to help women in crisis situations, to Planned Parenthood Employee of the Year and director of one of their most successful abortion clinics in just eight years. When she was called to assist at an ultrasound-guided abortion one day her heart was changed forever. She knew she could no longer work for Planned Parenthood and even more shocking, she realized she needed to join forces with those who had been praying outside her workplace for all those eight years.

She talks to her readers like old friends. She reveals herself to us with all her flaws, including her own secret abortions. I most appreciated the fact that she didn't try to make excuses for herself or others. She just told her story with openness and honesty. I was also deeply moved by her love for her friends on both sides of the abortion issue. She even speaks kindly of the notorious late-term abortionist who was murdered in his own church, Dr. George Tiller. She was appalled at the abortions he performed, even though she thought he had a kind and gentle manner. She never approved of late-term abortions, even as she served at the helm of an abortion clinic.

As one who has participated in peaceful prayer vigils outside Planned Parenthood clinics, I've experienced the feeling of helplessness as women are ushered into the clinics by volunteers who do their best to shield women from hearing the voices of pro-lifers offering support and help. Too often, the peaceful pro-lifers' voices are drowned out by the radical vocal minority who wave large signs depicting aborted fetuses or shout, "Murderer!" to the scared and confused women seeking help at the abortion clinic. I've seen the workers zip in and out from behind the tall iron fencing, avoiding all eye-contact with the prayer warriors. I've wondered what good could we possibly be doing standing there outside the abortion clinic, praying to our unseen God, while women in crisis are inside being stripped of the life within their wombs. How can our quiet prayers be heard when other voices shout words of damnation to the patients and staff on the other side of the fence? I've wondered what sort of monsters those people must be who work and volunteer at such a place of horror.

Abby Johnson answered my questions and helped me understand that many of the people working for Planned Parenthood believe they're doing a service for women. They may be sincerely doing what they think these women need. It wasn't the accusations, condemnations or death threats that changed Abby Johnson's heart. In fact, those things usually only strengthened the resolve of the people who work in the abortion industry. It wasn't those things that turned her from director of an abortion clinic to pro-life sidewalk counselor. It was the faithful, sincere, loving prayers and friendship offered by the volunteers for Coalition for Life that finally softened her heart enough to see the evil that was going on around her.

This book is a must-read for anyone who wants to see the abortion industry shut down. Rhetoric and talking points won't do it. Politicians can't do it. The only way this will happen is to change hearts and minds one person at a time, through love, compassion, gentleness and understanding.

View all my reviews

Baby it's cold outside. Let's make snow!

noreply@blogger.com (MilitantMom) — Wed, 02 Feb 2011 23:15:00 +0000

What do you do when the schools are closed because it's too cold for the buses to run and too cold for kids to wait outside? Okay, besides homeschooling? Make snow!

I heard about this experiment from the dental hygienist who cleaned my teeth yesterday, so I decided to give it a try. When I posted my findings on Facebook, several friends told me they tried it too, but only got steam. So here's my unretouched video "proof" that you can make snow from boiling water. We planned on catching the snow in the black cloth (my old midshipman neckerchief) but the wind catches it and it rises until it dissipates. Notice the lovely way the children interact with each other (yet more proof that homeschooled kids are "normal") and the cold-proofing we did of the downstairs bathroom vent to try to prevent freezing pipes of last winter. (Which, by the way, worked!)

By the way, the temperature was hovering around 0 degrees F, which, for my metric friends is -18 degrees C!

Another friend told me to try blowing soap bubbles. They were supposed to shatter like glass bubbles when they hit the ground. It wasn't quite so dramatic as that. They appeared more like plastic bubbles when they froze and they usually popped before they hit the ground. But some of them we could see were beginning to grow leafy ice patterns on them as they danced about in the air. We tried to make a video of them, but you can't quite see the beautiful frosty patterns. As you can see, if you don't blow the soap bubbles out fast enough, the soap will freeze right on your soap wand.

Notice the wonderful soap wands we used: an old toilet paper tube--it worked best once it was fully saturated in soap solution; the plastic frame from a grocery card; and a plastic part from a K'nex set! (The toilet paper tube worked the best). We made homemade soap bubbles with about 3/4 cup of water and a huge squirt of Ivory liquid.

Still homeschooling after all these years!

noreply@blogger.com (MilitantMom) — Tue, 01 Feb 2011 05:26:00 +0000

It seems like forever and ever. I've been homeschooling my darling youngsters since about 1992. That's nineteen years, if you're counting.

I hadn't even heard of home education until 1990. I remember reading an article called "Home-Grown Kids," by Raymond and Dorothy Moore in Mothering magazine. I was intrigued by what I read because it made a lot of sense to me, but they were ideas I'd never even considered. I remember assuring my husband as I read him excerpts from the article, "Don't worry. I'm not going to homeschool. I just think it's interesting."

Ahh, the sweet innocence of youth. Later that fall I heard about a Catholic homeschooling conference in Chantilly, Virginia. I believe it was the very first Catholic homeschooling conference. My husband and I attended the conference and we began to think seriously about venturing into the foreign territory of home education. I decided to start my eldest daughter a year early, so that if I messed up I could just send her to kindergarten the next year.

Our first year went smoothly. Better yet, we were happy, and even joyful. I started homeschooling the fall after having my fourth child. My kids were 4, 3, 2 and 9 months. I'm sure I went overboard in buying curriculum and workbooks and worrying about fulfilling requirements. But a funny thing happened while I was teaching my first daughter to read: her next younger brother learned as well. In between diaper changes, potty training, nursing and naps, we managed to fit in a pretty decent kindergarten program. We decided to try it for another year.

One year at a time. We decided to take it slowly and not think about high school or college or even two years down the road. We were just having fun getting through our ABCs and early readers. Addition facts followed, along with handwriting and Greek myths. (My kids loved the Greek myths. And they're still benefiting from their early exposure to the Greek myths. More about that in a future blog posting.) We tried to weave in our Catholic faith and stories of the saints along with the three R's. Some days it was a challenge just to have everyone clean and fed. At the time I felt like I wasn't doing it book perfect. I knew there were things I wanted to teach the children that I was leaving out. But we plodded on.

Nearly twenty years later, we're still homeschooling. We've thought about putting the kids in full-time school, and one kid went for one day once. We've changed our schedule innumerable times. We've changed our priorities. We've changed our curriculum. We've sought out professional help when we've felt it was needed. But it's still the best option for our family, at this point in our lives. And, best of all, I still enjoy being with my kids.