Communion, Boy Style

I held the communion plate in my hand and waited for each of my older boys to break a piece off the half-loaf of bread.  Remembering a Sunday several months ago when one of them had helped himself to a veritable chunk of communion bread, I instructed in a whisper, "Break off a little piece.  A little piece."

They obeyed, each taking a respectably small portion of Christ's body, broken for us.  I smiled, pleased with my boys for behaving so beautifully and for resisting the very compelling urge for "more."

When the tray of communion cups came round, I could tell one of my boys was sizing up the cups to see which one held the most juice.  I smiled again as he took a cup and sat back quietly.

A moment later, I looked to my left to see my dear son dipping his bread in his cup to soak up the grape juice.  No big deal there, but I advised him to take the bread out so it wouldn't crumble to the point of falling completely apart. His finger swirled in the cup, mixing up a nice bread/juice pudding as he attempted to retrieve his bread.  As I watched, he tipped the cup to his mouth and proceeded to lick out every last morsel of juice soaked bread. In the back of my mind, I hoped no one else noticed his busy tongue cleaning the inside of that clear plastic cup.

At this point, if you are a ninny or even a mildly respectable individual, you might be cringing just reading this record. But watching him, I felt there was something so right in his approach to partaking of Christ's body and blood.  He came to the table, ready to be filled, eager to drink fully of Christ's abundant feast. Shouldn't we all approach our Saviour thus?

Now, I know...  He's a kid who really likes his bread and juice.  Surely he didn't tell me that he wished he could have a huge hunk of bread and a big glass of juice because he is uber-committed to Jesus.  But you know what, I still think he's beautiful and I still love his enthusiasm.  And I hope that enthusiasm carries over into his relationship with his gracious Creator and Savior. I hope he understands all that Christ desires to bestow upon him, and I hope he comes to Jesus with his arms stretched out and heaped with blessings, and says, "More?" I'm pretty sure Jesus will give him the "more" he seeks.

When he plopped his communion cup down, I leaned over and told him, "Because so many people are taking communion today, we have to take a little.  Remember that a little of God's grace and love go a long way."

But I'm with him, and I told him so, too. I'm sure Jesus would LOVE for him - and each of us - to have an entire loaf of bread and a whole jug of juice.

Why I'll Fight the Mommy Wars (sort of)

So, yesterday was Mother's Day.  The theme of the year, perhaps due to a certain magazine cover, seemed to be the infamous "Mommy Wars."  I read a couple articles blasting the idea that moms are in some great competition with one another, all striving to be "mom enough."  Several of the practices mentioned - presumably things women feel pressured to do, like they aren't mom enough until they do these things - are things I have done, including exclusive breastfeeding, co-sleeping, baby wearing, extended breastfeeding, etc.  The idea of the articles was that these things, in and of themselves, don't make a mom a good mom, and we should all just shut up and mother in whatever way best suits us.

I agree.  None of that makes a mom a good mom, and we should mother according to our informed principals and maternal instincts.

But I disagree, too.  I don't think we need to shut up.

Here's why:  No one ever told me it was okay to wait till my child was eight months to start solids.  No one ever told me I could sleep with my baby.  No one ever encouraged me to use a sling.  Had it not been for a friend who nursed her toddler at my house, I might not have known it was okay to nurse a toddler.  Instead, I was told I had to pass around my baby, who was in the midst of that marvelous separation anxiety phase, even though he cried hysterically when I let him go.  I was told to let my babies cry it out. I was told to wean my nine month old.  I was told I'd regret holding my babies so much when I developed hip problems. I was laughed at (just a little) for not giving my nine month old ice cream.  None of those things felt quite right, and it was mostly by accident or chance observances that  Geoff and I fell into this whole "attachment parenting" thing.  I've read a lot over the past ten years, and I'm perfectly comfortable with our choices.  I'm not saying I'm a great mom or that I implement all of my parenting philosophy consistently or anything like that... I'm just saying that I'm comfortable with our choices and glad we made them.

So, I'm not going to hush up about how we parent or apologize for our choices or act like I haven't enjoyed living out those choices.  Frankly, I don't care what another mom decides to do, but I want her to know that if she wants a drug free birth, she can do it; if she wants to breastfeed for three years, she won't damage her kid; if she wants to cuddle her baby to sleep, she won't prevent him from ever learning to sleep on his own; if she wants to delay solids, she won't kill her kid's appetite; if she wants to carry her baby everywhere, she won't keep him from walking...  If she wants to parent in this "attached" way, she won't ruin her baby.  

I may get in trouble for this, but I'll go so far as to say that if a mother wants to parent in this way, doing so WILL make her a better mom, because she is living by her convictions.  If a mother does not feel convicted to do any of these things, fine.  I really, truly don't care where anyone's baby sleeps or how long they nurse - or even if they nurse.  But for the sake of the woman who WANTS to do these things, but isn't sure she can, I will not allow a couple articles to scare me out of encouraging her to follow her instincts.

I don't want to badger anyone into parenting a particular way, but I do want those who are on the fence to know that it is perfectly okay to go against what so many tell them to do.  I want to encourage moms to make their own choices, informed by knowledge and instinct, and own those choices, mothering proudly according to their convictions, not doubting with every acquaintance's comment.

And that is why, no matter how many articles I read denouncing "The Mommy Wars," I will fight - hopefully with grace and compassion - a war against a solitary type of motherhood in which we lose the freedom to speak openly about parenting practices - which is the heart of my discomfort with all these articles.  Let us not compete with one another or raise a standard to which some may not or can not aspire.  But let us not allow the media to keep us from sharing with and encouraging one another as we raise the next generation.  We need to know we aren't alone, regardless of how we raise our children.


 

The Things They Learn

As I lie awake in bed this morning, looking at the darling boy who had crawled into bed with me, I realized something.  Kids grow up.  Okay, so this is news to no one.  Still, I think sometimes we need to be reminded of it.

My husband and I have four delightful children, ranging in age from ten to three years.  For the first time in what seems like forever, no one is nursing, no one needs to snuggle to sleep with Mommy or Daddy, no one (usually) crawls into our bed in the middle of the night (morning snuggles are a different story), and no one - I repeat, no one -wears diapers. Even at night, NO DIAPERS!

Hal. Le. Lu.  Jah.

The crazy thing is...  With this last kid, we really didn't try to wean him or teach him to stay in his bed all night or use the potty or stay dry all night.  It just kind of... happened.  We encouraged, but didn't push.  He reached a certain age and there it was...  No more nursing, no more diapers, no more sneaking into our bed at one in the morning.  While we were busy wondering when he would learn to let go of these things, he let them go, with little help from us.

Anyway, kids grow up.  They get a little older, a little more independent, and before you know it, all the things you thought would never end, do.

For example:

1. Children grow to fall asleep without Mommy or Daddy.
2. Children grow to ask for a hug without asking to nurse.
3. Children grow to stay in their beds all night long, (even if they still crawl in between Mommy and Daddy for morning snuggles).
4. Children grow to use the toilet, and then they learn to do it without being reminded.
5. Children grow to stay dry through the night.
6. Children grow to run and play, rather than hug Mommy's leg.
7. Children grow to do what bigger children do.  (You can neither force nor prevent this one).
8. Children grow to help themselves.
9. Children grow to express themselves, and in ways that will blow your mind.
10. Children grow to call you Mom. Just plain, all grown-up, Mom. 

Of course, there are many more milestones than these. It just struck me this morning that all the things we parents so often struggle to teach our children -from sleeping to talking to weaning to toilet training to... pretty much everything - they generally figure out in the course of time, regardless of the fervor of our efforts.  Perhaps despite our fervor, they grow to do the things we big people do.

So I guess my point is this:  If you are looking at your young child, wondering when, oh when, they will figure out this or that life skill, relax, Mom.  They'll grow up, whether or not you're ready for them to do so.

Apparently, they learn to button their shirts, too.

The Beauty of Science

The end of our school year is trudging ever so slowly in our direction. As I review what I have taught my children this year and what I had hoped to teach them before putting the books up for the summer, I grumble inwardly over the issue of Science.

We started our study of Physics this spring, having devoted the fall to the study of Modern History. Physics went well enough for a time. We read about Galileo and Newton, gravity, motion, simple machines, etc.  We copied equations and laws.  We began a biography of Albert Einstein and read a few chapters of John Hudson Tiner's Exploring the World of Physics.  We had a blast with our Physics Workshop, and spent half a morning testing the best design and trajectory for paper airplanes. The boys attended Robotics Club and constructed countless Lego spaceships.  And that's just what I remember off the top of my head.

Now that I've typed it all out, it feels like a lot.  But when I think of what I would like my children to carry into adulthood, I realize how much more I wish had taught them this year and wonder how much I can cram into our last weary days of fourth and second grades.

And then I remember: they are in fourth and second grades. It's okay if they don't fully understand Einstein's Special Theory of Relativity and his General Theory of Relativity, let alone the difference between the two.  They'll get it eventually, and if they don't, well...  They might still be okay.

(Quick!  Explain Einstein's theories to me... See, they'll be alright.  Maybe you dig Einstein, but I can't remember, prior to reading Albert's bio, the last time I thought about relativity, let alone had to explain it to anyone).

I also remember that we have visited the zoo, worked in the garden, watched a newly transformed butterfly struggle to take flight, and held wiggling earthworms in our hands before depositing them in our homemade worm habitat. They have studied snakes and wild cats and alligators and crickets, all of their own volition. We even learned a little about human anatomy during a field trip to the ER, a lesson I hope never to repeat in such a hands-on fashion.

I had planned to delve deeply into Physics this year.  While we failed to excavate all of that subject's hidden secrets, we did uncover a few gems, and we caught glimpses of treasures yet to be unearthed. I hope that when Physics comes around in another four years, my children will welcome it as a familiar digging ground, even if they never write a paper on the photoelectric effect.

In the meantime, as we finish our biography of one of history's greatest physicists and in the years to come, we will revel in the broader field of Science - Zoology, Botany, Anatomy, Astronomy, Chemistry, and yes, Physics - spreading marvelously in every direction. This, I believe, is the beauty of science.  We learn it every day in a tangled glory of unplanned moments.

I don't mean this post to be a "Hey, look what we did!" sort of post. If you took it as such, I apologize.  If, on the other hand, you completely understand what it means to feel a slight tremor of fear creep upon you as you reflect on a year's labors...

Relax. You've done a lot more than you realize.