What Ever Happened to Truth?

Being that I’m hopelessly entangled in an on-again/off-again affair with procrastination, which, sadly is much more often on-again than off-again, I have ample time to stumble across articles such as this: What Should Atheist Parents Tell their Kids about Religion? Rest assured, I am not here to argue the existence of God or the importance of religion. I just want to know what happened to truth and conviction.

The theme of the above mentioned article is one I come across constantly in parenting columns and blogs. The basic premise is, “I wholeheartedly believe x, but I’m going to make sure I expose my kids to the whole alphabet, so they can choose for themselves which letter they believe in.” This simply blows my mind. Regardless of what your beliefs are, if you believe them to be true, why would you not want to ensure that truth is communicated to your children?

For the Christian parents, if you believe that there is life after death, and that such life consists of eternal bliss or eternal suffering, why would you not do everything in your power to ensure your child obtains the former rather than the later? For the atheists, if you believe that religious beliefs are a waste of time and limit your child’s potential to ever become fully educated or enlightened or will lead them down the path of bigotry and hate, why would you encourage your child to start down a path that would lead to such a fate?

If you take out the polarizing topic of religious beliefs or other ideologies, it becomes apparent that truth really does exist, and that parents generally do their best to protect their children from the consequences of ignoring truth. Good parents wouldn’t tell little Johnny that stoves are hot, but leave it up to little Johnny to decide whether or not he wants to touch the stove. Or suppose little Johnny had CIPA, the genetic disorder which would prevent him from feeling pain. If his mom walked into the kitchen and saw Johnny with his hand on the burner, would she say, “Oh, that’s nice Johnny. I’m glad you’re happy with your hand there. Never mind that the flesh is melting off your bones.” Of course not! She would scoop her baby up, regardless of his age, and protect him.

So what does all of this mean? I figure it leads to one of two conclusions. Either, parents are not actually as convicted about their beliefs as they pretend to be, or they don’t really mean that their child can choose to believe something different. I find the first rather frightening, and the second rather pathetic.

Now, just to be clear, I’m not talking about things that are a matter of opinion or preference. Regarding the country in which your child may one day reside, favorite colors, potential professions, of course I believe children should be exposed to a wide variety of possibilities. But when it comes to the things that matter most, the beliefs that are the basis for one’s entire world view and ethical code, shouldn’t a good parent be a little more protective? If the parent believes there is fundamental truth to their beliefs, why would they provide their child with the opportunity to choose a life path that would rob them of the beauty that comes from truth?

Is it that deep down, parents don’t actually believe the “truths” they profess? If there is no truth, if everything is really relative, if Sheryl Crow was right and whatever makes you happy can’t be bad, why do parents waste their time believing, or not believing, as the case may be? If everything is relative and Johnny can be happy and fulfilled and safe on any path of ideology he chooses, why waste your time with an ideology to begin with? Why bother having an opinion about the existence (or lack thereof) of a higher power if it doesn’t actually matter either way? It seems that extending this train of thought can lead to some pretty scary implications, but I’ll save that for another day.

Or is it that parents don’t really mean that Johnny can choose whatever letter he wants? Maybe parents just say this to be trendy. Or maybe they are using it as a twisted test of good parenting or as a means to validate whatever it is they believe. Do they just want to be able to look back and say, “Look at what I good example I was for Johnny. I exposed him to every possible belief system under the sun, yet he still chose to believe the same thing I believe. I am such a good parent, and, obviously he recognizes truth when he sees it.” But what happens if he doesn’t choose the same?

Obviously, there’s no cut and dry response to the questions I’m posing. But I just don’t understand why people don’t stand behind what they believe in, especially when it comes to passing on beliefs to their children. If something is true, why would you risk depriving your child of the benefits that come from living a life lit by that truth?

Eclectic Unschooler?

I just took the “Which Homeschooling Approach is Right for You?” quiz on Parentables.com, which is a TLC site that is more entertaining than respectable. Every now and then I glean something useful, but most the time I visit, I’m just procrastinating. This quiz, however, has left me unnerved. Mostly because it’s on to something and the control freak in me just can’t handle it.

I answered the multiple choice questions posed in terms of my ideal home school. I answered them based on the reasons I chose to home school. I did not necessarily answer them in light of what we are actually doing. After all, that seems to be the whole point of the quiz.

So, according to the scientific genius of the aforementioned quiz, I appear to be an “eclectic unschooler” at heart. I’m fine with eclectic. That’s a word I would use to describe many areas of my life. Unschooler on the other hand… Well it’s like I said, the control freak in me just can’t handle that.

It’s funny because in my mind’s eye there is a lot of unschooling. I like the idea of following the kids lead and learning what interests them. I think there’s a lot of wisdom in this approach, as it must foster a genuine love of learning. HOWEVER, unschooled children do not test a well as their public schooled counter parts. I certainly don’t want to be playing a mad game of catch up in 2023 trying to teach Andy math skills or anything else he’s lacking just prior to taking the SAT.

So I started this post about a month ago. I guess I never got around to finishing it. I like it though, so I’m going to round it out and go ahead and push “publish.” After reflecting on the quiz, talking with Josh and gleaning some wisdom from homeschooling veterans, I’ve come to peace with my title of eclectic unschooler…for now. We will all enjoy homeschooling much more if we’re doing what comes naturally instead of forcing something that doesn’t. That being said, we’re going to take somewhat of an eclectic unschooling approach for the time being, that is until about 5th grade.

Math and phonics are non-negotiables. They will be the structured albeit eclectic exceptions to this rule. Those subjects will have clear learning objectives keeping the boys at or above the standards expected of their traditionally schooled peers. Everything else is up to the kiddos. They can lead the way, choosing what they want to learn in terms of science, history, geography, etc, etc, etc. For me, this seems to be the best plan to match my personal objective of having my kiddos at home with me and the personal standards I hold in terms of what I want them to accomplish. It’s not unschooling per se, but it will capture the parts of unschooling I like, while avoiding the parts I don’t.

I guess in reality I’m just an eclectic homeschooler. Maybe if there were a few more questions on that little quiz they could have put me in a more concise nutshell. Either way, I’m happy with what we’re doing and I’ve learned a lot about myself, our school, and my teaching style since taking this quiz. This will save us all lots of frustration from attempting to master hours of boring workbook pages.

It’s Not Me; It’s You.

Dear Procrastination,

This just isn’t working out. It’s not me, it’s you. I need you to pack your things and move out immediately. I just can’t waste any more time with you. I can’t say that it hasn’t been fun, but that’s just not good enough anymore. Please don’t make a scene, or conjure up all kinds of ideas of things we can to do together. This really has to end. Now. Besides, I’ve met someone else. His name is Productivity. Granted, he and I don’t seem to fit together as naturally as you and I do, but I’m determined to make it work. He can take me places you can’t. It’s as simple as that. I’m sorry to be so harsh, but I don’t see another way. I’ve tried to drop hints and show you how we’re growing apart, but nothing seemed to be working. It just has to end. And I felt like you need to know exactly why. I’ll certainly look back on the time we spent together fondly, but I’m looking forward to getting to the point where I don’t miss you anymore.I’ll be better off without you. I know I will. I just need you to accept this and move on. You’ll find someone else. Someone better suited for your romping. We’ll both be better off; you’ll see. The time we’re spending together is in vain, as I’m just growing resentful. When we part, I’m left feeling angry and even used. I just can’t do it anymore. I don’t care if you don’t understand. This is the way it has to be. Please try and forget we ever knew each other so intimately. I’m not looking back and I won’t change my mind. Starting now, I’m moving on. Really. I am. Yes, it’s hard for me to walk away. But I just have to be strong. I can get past you. I will. I’m done. I’m not falling for you again. Forget moving out of my life. I’ll leave. I’ll be better off for it, you’ll see. Years from now, when we meet again, you’ll hardly know me, and you’ll be exactly as I left you. That’s why it has to happen now. Goodbye, Procrastination. I leaving now. Like Fergie said, “Big girls don’t cry.”

Andy & Jack Signing at Lunch

The big boys have been really interested in signing ever since they saw the Duggar kids signing with Josie. The boys and I are learning some signs so we can teach Ben. It’s been a fun project. The boys really seem to enjoy that we’re all learning something new together. We were practicing over lunch today and recorded it to show my mom (Nonnie) who has taken several ASL classes recently. (Too bad I didn’t realize I needed to turn my phone sideways to video properly! Oops)




Moving at His Own Pace

One of the many things that appealed to me about homeschooling was the ability to progress at my kids’ own pace. Their studies will never have to move so quickly that they are left behind, and they won’t be forced to do busy work despite having already mastered a concept. I spent most of my academic career on either side of that fence. Mostly, I was bored to tears because we spent way to much time on concepts that I grasped quickly. This lead to complete apathy on my part. I never did any homework, always planning to complete it the class period prior to it being due, since I viewed my being in class a complete waste of my time. However, when I was younger, from about 5th – 7th grades, I was beyond lost in math. Ironically, this also lead to apathy, as it appeared, regardless of the effort I put in, I would never grasp those concepts. Thankfully, my mother got an incredible math tutor for me and she turned my math woes around. Knowing that neither position is one that ignites a love of learning, I am more than pleased to never have to put my children in either situation.

But there’s one little problem…

In our recent phonics studies, I’ve found that the pace at which I would like to move is much different from the pace at which Andy is prepared to move. This has led to more than a few tense moments of me pleading “sound it out” as he guesses through a string of words that we covered that day. It makes me crazy. But I just keep pushing. And then he gets frustrated. And wants to quit. Which also makes me crazy. I quickly developed a hatred for phonics, very seriously considered switching phonics programs, and then had the epiphany that neither phonics nor our curriculum was the problem. It’s me.

I have an agenda. I want to move through this a quickly as possible. I want him to be ahead of the pack. I want all our family and friends who are critical of our decision to homeschool to have to eat crow when they see him reading at a 6th grade reading level in 1st grade. (Ok…I’m not quite that crazy…but I’m not far off either.) I’m pushing him into one of the situations I hate most about a traditional classroom. But I’m even worse. I’m not pushing him forward or holding him back for the good of 20 other students, I’m doing for my own pride. My own sinful, selfish pride.

I wholeheartedly believe that we made the right decision when we chose to homeschool this year. I don’t have anything to prove to anyone. But if I keep up like this I’m essentially self-sabotaging: He’s going to hate learning and I’m going to hate teaching. I’m just grateful I came to this realization early on. Now, knowing the issues I have with my pride, we’ll just have to see how many times I have to fight this battle with myself over the next 17+ years.

Say it with me: I will teach my children at their own pace. I will teach my children at their own pace. I will teach my children at their own pace…

I mean so what if he’s in 4th grade and is just finally learning to write his own name? This is about them, not me, right? (And for all my critics reading this: don’t worry, he already knows how to write his name. I’m just making a point.)

 

Dislike.

What’s the point of Facebook anyway? It’s just a giant sounding board where people either brag about how awesome they are, or how crappy their lives are, or simultaneously do both at the same time. Seriously. I don’t know why I still have one. Or even why I ever had one.

I recently whittled my friends list down to people I actually was friends with at some point in time. I thought that would help this icky feeling. I was never friends with people I didn’t know at all, but I did have a lot of very casual acquaintances on there, as I assume most people probably do. But, truthfully, at this point in my life, I don’t even know most of the people that made the cut either. I certainly never talk to them other than Facebook. That doesn’t seem to quite qualify as a friendship. Or, maybe I’m just being cynical.

But, really, why does anyone have a facebook? Do we all think we’re so important that world would be lacking in someway if there was no log of where I checked in for dinner or my witty opinion of some commercial I just saw for the first time? Does it really matter if people I don’t ever talk to see my most recent vacation pictures or how cute Jack is while he’s sleeping? Do people really care who I voted for on American Idol or that I’m playing tetris to kill time instead of doing the laundry? Of course not. This information about my life can’t possibly enrich your day. Similar information about your life certainly doesn’t enrich mine. So why do I feel the need to compulsively log on, read my entire news feed up to the point where I last left off, and, perhaps, even share one of the above mentioned details from my life? I truly have no idea. I have no idea what could possibly be so compelling about that.

Does Facebook give us all some false sense of security? Some sense that our lives do actually have meaning? A sense of unity and connectedness to all 785 people we’re friends with? Evidence that we’re not floating around on this planet alone? I mean people wouldn’t comment if they didn’t care, right? Or maybe we’re all just so bored with whatever is going on around us that we’re desperate for the next hilarious YouTube video, life changing blog post, or sweet comment from someone we haven’t seen since 7th grade?

Ok. It’s obvious. I’m a little cynical…or at the very least a little negative…about this whole concept for some reason. I don’t know why. Just like I don’t know why I’m on Facebook. Maybe that’s what bothers me. That I’m so consumed by something as nonsensical as a newsfeed full of usseless information that’s likely only posted as some vain attempt to keep up with the Joneses. I would like to think my life has more substance than that. But my actions clearly indicate otherwise. Maybe that’s why I’m so cranky about it all. Because I don’t like who it implies that I have become.

So why can’t I just log off? Why can’t I just click that little button that deactivates my account? Am I really that afraid that without my connection to Facebook I will have no connection to these people who were once such a huge part of my life?

Yeah.

I guess I am.

I guess I know that, when I click deactivate, all those people, all those memories, that were once such a huge part of my life will no longer exist in a very real way.

Despite the fact that they haven’t been a part of my life for a very long time now, that somehow makes it more real. I guess that’s hard to deal with. I guess that’s why I’ve grown such a disdain for Facebook in general. For me, it’s a very real representation of one of the harder parts of growing up and moving on.

 
Hmm. That’s a little sad. Having to be faced with the reality that people and circumstances that were once of the utmost importance to me just aren’t anymore… Well. I just don’t know what to say about that. Who knew that my little rant about Facbook would end up revealing something real about me.

 

 

Morning Madness.

Over the past two weeks I discovered, firsthand, reason number 768 to homeschool my children: Having everyone dressed, fed, and out the door with all their belongings in tow at the crack of dawn is most definitely a torture derived right from one of the outer rings of hell. No joke. It is pure torture, chaos, and a much unneeded source of stress.

I spent the last two weeks facilitating a program for my middle school youth. It was phenomenal – such a great experience. Everyone involved seemed to get something out of it, kids and volunteers alike. My boys simultaneously went to VBS. It was their first time and the LOVED it. The stories they would tell and the songs they would sing when I picked them up every day were absolutely adorable. But, trying to get to church each day was enough to make me wonder why I even had kids. It was enough to make me wonder if I could just drop them off at VBS and forget to pick them up. It was enough to… ok…I’ll just stop before I actually put that in writing.

Getting up at 5 every day to be out the door by 7 and still scrambling to get it done in time was absolutely ludicrous. And silly me – I thought it would get easier as the days went on. I thought we’d develop a routine, get in the swing of things….WRONG. As the week went on, the kids just got tired. By the end of the first week I was dragging them out of bed, pleading with them to stand on their own two feet, and, eventually, carrying each child, and all of their necessary belongings, out of the house one. by. one. It was madness I tell you. Pure madness.

That is most definitely not the way I want to spend at least 180 days of my year. I think I’d go insane. I don’t want to majority of the interactions I have with my kids on a given weekday to involve me teetering on the brink of insanity. So there you have it. While it may be trivial, I’m thrilled that this is something I will only have to put up with for two weeks in the summer and not 9 months out of the year! Life is about the little things, right? This is definitely one little thing that will make a big difference in our family.

A Reason, a Season, or a Lifetime

My mom used to have a plaque in our hall bathroom that said something along the lines of “Every experience God puts in your life is the perfect preparation for the future that only he can see.” It was a gift to her from her youth group when we moved away from Columbus. It was blue and white and kind of looked beachy to me. I always loved that plaque. I remember standing in that bathroom as a 4th grader reading it again and again, pondering what exactly that meant, wondering what this future may be that I may have already somewhat caught a glance of through my, albeit limited at the time, life experiences. That saying has always stuck with me, and I usually see it’s truth in retrospect.

Truthfully, this entry isn’t going to be nearly as insightful or nostalgic as it may appear, but the anecdote above applies nonetheless.

I’ve been in the process of getting rid of all my Mary Kay stuff. What I didn’t sell, I’m donating to a domestic violence shelter. Anytime I’m at the end of a road, I tend to look back and consider how I got there, evaluate the journey, and think what I might have done differently. Surprisingly, closing this chapter has been really easy for me. I guess it helps that it’s technically been closed for several months, but I’m just now getting  around to cleaning up the mess. Don’t get me wrong, it’s definitely sad to leave Mary Kay behind, but my life has changed dramatically, and it’s simply not one of my priorities anymore.

Anyway, as I was bagging stuff up, I found myself in disbelief about how much I was taking away from my time with Mary Kay. I am thoroughly impressed and amazed at how much I grew as a person as a result of being mentored by those women. Every week, I stand on stage and talk to 300+ kids, I regularly talk to large groups of parents, I’ve spoken in front of our entire congregation, and I lead meetings with my volunteers and catechists. Before MK, I barely passes Oral Comm. In fact, I only passed Oral Comm because I dropped it once and retook it with some GA who didn’t care what we did as long as we made some small effort at speaking coherently in front of the class. Before MK, I’m not sure that I had the confidence to lead anyone anywhere, let alone stand up in front of a group of people who are old enough to be my parents and gain their respect as their leader. Before MK my faith was nothing more than motions that I wanted my kids to see, not a real, living, life-changing relationship that I long to share with the young people of our church. Before MK I don’t think I really even knew who I was or where I was going, and I especially didn’t know how to set goals or manage my time in such a way that I could accomplish those goals with ease.

The directors in Mary Kay say that women come into Mary Kay for a reason, a season, or a lifetime. At one point I thought I was the lifetime person, upon my departure I decided I must have just been meant for a season, now I realize that I was most definitely there for a reason. I will be forever grateful to the amazing women in Mary Kay who had such a strong impact on my life, both in helping me achieve my goals as a consultant, and helping me become the woman I am today.

It’s Official!

I’m pursing a Master of Theological Studies from Ave Maria University’s Institute of Pastoral Theology! I am so very excited and humbled and overwhelmed!! I got a verbal acceptance today and I should get my official letter in a week! Oh. my. gosh. I’m so excited! <3

Nervous Excitement…

Sooooo tomorrow at 12 noon I have a phone interview with a Dr. Timothy Herman of the Institute of Pastoral Theology at Ave Maria University. It’s the last step in the my application process for grad school. GRAD SCHOOL!!! Can you believe it? As if I don’t  have enough on my plate… Nevertheless, as terrified and overwhelmed as I am, I’m jumping in head first, praying every second of the way that, if this is not God’s Will for me, he’ll slam this door closed. Should I be accepted, I’ll be pursuing a Master of Theological Studies. I guess we’ll find out soon enough whether or not I’m on the right track. However, since I neglect my poor blog so often, and I’ll be doing quite a bit of writing for grad school, I figured I might as well kill two birds with one stone and post my papers and essays here. I have three to start with, all of which were required with my application. I figure I’ll post the assignment, followed by my actual response. At this point I’m undecided whether this will be more entertaining than my normal ramblings…or perhaps quite the opposite. If nothing else, it will keep my blog a little more up to date.