Just a Mum....interesting story

JUST A MOM?

A woman, renewing her driver's license at the County Clerk 's office,
was asked by the woman recorder to state her occupation.

She hesitated, uncertain how to classify herself.

'What I mean is, ' explained the recorder,
'do you have a job or are you just a ....?'

'Of course I have a job,' snapped the woman.

'I'm a Mom.'

'We don't list 'Mom' as an occupation,
'housewife' covers it,'
Said the recorder emphatically.

I forgot all about her story until one day I found myself
in the same situation, this time at our own Town Hall.
The Clerk was obviously a career woman, poised,
efficient, and possessed of a high sounding title like,
'Official Interrogator' or 'Town Registrar.'

'What is your occupation?' she probed.

What made me say it? I do not know.
The words simply popped out.
'I'm a Research Associate in the field of
Child Development and Human Relations.'

The clerk paused, ball-point pen frozen in midair and
looked up as though she had not heard right.

I repeated the title slowly emphasizing the most significant words.
Then I stared with wonder as my pronouncement was written,
in bold, black ink on the official questionnaire..

'Might I ask,' said the clerk with new interest,
'just what you do in your field?'

Coolly, without any trace of fluster in my voice,
I heard myself reply,
'I have a continuing program of research,
(what mother doesn't)
In the laboratory and in the field,
(normally I would have said indoors and out).
I'm working for my Masters, (first the Lord and then the whole family)
and already have four credits (all daughters).
Of course, the job is one of the most demanding in the humanities,
(any mother care to disagree?)
and I often work 14 hours a day, (24 is more like it).
But the job is more challenging than most run-of-the-mill careers
and the rewards are more of a satisfaction rather than just money.'

There was an increasing note of respect in the clerk's voice as she
completed the form, stood up, and personally ushered me to the door.

As I drove into our driveway, buoyed up by my glamorous new career,
I was greeted by my lab assistants -- ages 13, 7, and 3.
Upstairs I could hear our new experimental model,
(a 6 month old baby) in the child development program,
testing out a new vocal pattern.
I felt I had scored a beat on bureaucracy!
And I had gone on the official records as someone more
distinguished and indispensable to mankind than 'just another Mom.'
Motherhood!

What a glorious career!
Especially when there's a title on the door.

Does this make grandmothers
'Senior Research associates in the field of Child Development and Human Relations'
And great grandmothers
'Executive Senior Research Associates?'
I think so!!!
I also think it makes Aunts '
Associate Research Assistants.

It's not the bad, but the good that traps me.

I don't spend hours on the 'net gambling, looking at internet porn, checking out how to make terrorist bombs. I don't get prescription drugs sent to my door to be consumed or fed to my children. I don't plunge myself in to debt shopping on e-bay and various other stores (tempting though it may be sometimes!) or engage in illicit affairs over chat.

I check out encouraging blogs, do Bible study, Blog myself, research homeschooling, find people who need praying for, keep in touch with family and friends, research home management techniques. All good things! But not great things.

Holding my babies is a great thing, talking to them, reading to them, teaching them, loving them. Keeping a welcoming and loving home for my family is a great thing. Talking to my husband is a great thing!

Good things are, well, good. Until they get in the way of great things.

I have known women who turned their children outside in the cold wearing grubby, days old clothing and nappies near hanging off the little ones - so they could clean house. I have known women who sent their children to another room for weeks on end to pretty much go feral while they researched homeschooling. I have known women who constantly refuse their husbands advances, or even requests for company and conversation, to finish crafts or construct a new home management book. All of these women took pride in being a submissive wife and loving mother and described it as a calling of God. The reality was much different though. The reality was frightening. Good drowning out the great, and becoming bad.

It shocks me how easy it can be to slide down that road.

So right now, I am going to put aside this good thing until tomorrow and help my daughter with her school work.

What great thing will you do today?

Notes from a home schooling Mum

A reaction to some of those comments.




To the lady with the blue jacket and the disapproving tone.
I am glad you enjoyed sending your kids to school.
Your eyes look sad and I wonder how much joy you have had in your life.
I wish you'd enjoyed picking them up as much as you did dropping them off.

To the man with the football beenie and the concerned frown.
I am happy for you that you met your best friends at school.
It sounds like it was a very positive experience for you.
I hope my friends have good mates like you as they grow up.

To the lady with the purple hat and the laugh lines.
Thankyou, I think my children are lovely too!



note: all characters are fictional composites that will be recognised by almost any homeschooling mum!

Update

BIG NEWS! Due to a major influx of mice we are getting a cat. Jon is allergic but he also loves cats, it was actually me who was tipping the vote to no cat for various reasons that all disappeared when I stepped out of the shower and found a mouse ON MY TOWEL!! AUGHHHH!!!! We chose one at the RSPCA on the weekend and are picking him up tomorrow or the next day after he is desexed.

Erin:
Is thrilled to be getting a cat. Her original vote for a name was to call him Morris, but now she thinks Puss is a better name. I have given the two big kids chores to do to clean up after each meal and she is very, very helpful. More than I thought she'd be actually.

Billy:
suffered at the hands of me trying to cut his hair this week and the clippers dying. Not a pretty sight. He doesn't seem bothered by it though. He is SUPER thrilled to be getting a cat. I think he has the same affinity with animals that I had when I was little so I am really glad to be getting a cat for his sake. He helped Daddy unload dirt with his little wheel barrow yesterday and it was very cute!

Christopher:
also became a victim of Mummy-is-too-cheep-to-pay-for-someone-to-cut-my-hair! He has been quite a handful lately as he cuts 4 teeth at once (eye teeth in there too). Grumpy, surly, stubborn. He can still switch it on though and that belly laugh is one of my all time favourite things!

Anna:
love playing "This Little Pig"! I give her a full body massage before and after her bath and when I do her fingers and feet, I say the rhyme. The minute I grab a toe and say "this little pig..." her eyes light up and she smiles. The look on her face is like she is saying "oh, she is going to say it!! It's coming!! She is going to do it!! Here it comes!! OOOOHHHH YAYYYYYY!!!! She went WEWEWWEEEEE!!!!!" and she chuckles. It is priceless.

The House:
is rodent infested. They are running everywhere over everything. They come out and wander around the house in the evenings as we sit and watch TV or talk. Because I have no kitchen cupboards, they run through them at will meaning our most used dishes stay in the dishwasher until used and everything else has to be re-washed before use. Thankfully, all our packet food etc is in the pantry cupboard, our one mouse proof place in the house. Counting the days until our cat comes home!

The Garden:
Beloved got me dirt for my birthday! We have made a couple of garden beds and I am in the process of moving everything I want to keep out of the front garden, into the new garden beds. The front will be covered with THICK newspaper and have new dirt put down in an effort to get rid of the Oxalis and cooch grass.

In Other News:
Our very good friends had a baby the other day, their third. A girl named Chloe Jasmine, 10lb 10oz. No, it wasn't ME who jumped up and down and yelled "DOH!" because theirs was bigger than ours. It wasn't me who demanded that Beloved get started on a new baby NOW so that I can beat that. I am not competitive at all. No. Not me. Never. OK, a bit.

Jess

Time for a cute funny pic

see more Lolcats and funny pictures

I'm getting soft

I was going to post about the kids today but it is going to have to wait. I popped over to visit Sarah's Covenant Homes today and watched the slide show that she just posted. And I bawled like a baby. Haven't cried like that for I don't know how long.

I'm getting soft.

Let me put it in context. This week in my Bible time I've been studying HOPE. Our HOPE. I was reading 1 Corinthians 15:35-58 where it talks about how this body here and now is just a seed. I saw these children whose bodies and minds are broken, and looked in their eyes and their smiles. For a moment it was like reading a seed packet, looking at the picture on the front and imagining spring! Through the ministry of the homes, this life is made much better for these children, but this life is just a glimpse. What is in store for these kids is what is REALLY important. And that is what made me weep, for the tragedy of it, for the joy of it.

I'm getting soft.

Growing up, I prided myself on NOT being soft. Seemingly surrounded by victims of abuse, I was determined not to allow myself to be in a position to be hurt or abused in any way. So even with those I loved best, there has always been a distance. You can love me, touch me, be with me, know me, affect me THIS much and no more. A safety margin I always maintained, even in my most intimate relationships. But over the past few years, this has started to change. Through events, circumstance and slow moving of the Holy Spirit on my heart, God has been slowly changing me. Prying my stiff fingers from the safety rail that I had constructed for myself - that safety rail attached only to air. He is changing me.

I'm getting soft.

It is a rush this new life that I am just beginning. It is like base jumping. Everything in me screams at me that I am going to splatter into a million pieces when I hit the bottom. My warning bells clamor in my ears, sirens try and alert me, "DANGER WILL ROBINSON, DANGER!!". But through it all, the still small voice that I am getting to know so well whispers "I am your parachute. Enjoy the view, let me take care of the landing."

I'm getting soft.

I can't help but wonder, is this what James was talking about when he said that pure religion was to keep oneself from being "polluted by the world" James 1:27? I refuse you world. I refuse to let you pollute me. I refuse to let the wounds you dealt me go septic and stop me from caring. I refuse to allow the pollution in others to stop me from caring about them. I refuse to recoil from the pain, sadness, needs, sickness, damage and disease in the hearts, minds and bodies of others. Especially those who love me most. And those who need me most. I refuse to be infected, stained, spattered by the filth and fear of this world by allowing it to make me too scared to love.

like I said,

I'm getting soft.

A day at our homeschool....

It made me chuckle!

Another one for Poetry month!

“Mike Teavee…”

The most important thing we’ve learned,
So far as children are concerned,
Is never, NEVER, NEVER let
Them near your television set –
Or better still, just don’t install
The idiotic thing at all.
In almost every house we’ve been,
We’ve watched them gaping at the screen.
They loll and slop and lounge about,
And stare until their eyes pop out.
(Last week in someone’s place we saw
A dozen eyeballs on the floor.)
They sit and stare and stare and sit
Until they’re hypnotised by it,
Until they’re absolutely drunk
With all that shocking ghastly junk.
Oh yes, we know it keeps them still,
They don’t climb out the window sill,
They never fight or kick or punch,
They leave you free to cook the lunch
And wash the dishes in the sink –
But did you ever stop to think,
To wonder just exactly what
This does to your beloved tot?
IT ROTS THE SENSE IN THE HEAD!
IT KILLS IMAGINATION DEAD!
IT CLOGS AND CLUTTERS UP THE MIND!
IT MAKES A CHILD SO DULL AND BLIND
HE CAN NO LONGER UNDERSTAND
A FANTASY, A FAIRYLAND!
HIS BRAIN BECOMES AS SOFT AS CHEESE!
HIS POWERS OF THINKING RUST AND FREEZE!
HE CANNOT THINK — HE ONLY SEES!
‘All right!’ you’ll cry. ‘All right!’ you’ll say,
‘But if we take the set away,
What shall we do to entertain
Our darling children? Please explain!’
We’ll answer this by asking you,
‘What used the darling ones to do?
‘How used they keep themselves contented
Before this monster was invented?’
Have you forgotten? Don’t you know?
We’ll say it very loud and slow:
THEY … USED … TO … READ! They’d READ and READ,
AND READ and READ, and then proceed
To READ some more. Great Scott! Gadzooks!
One half their lives was reading books!
The nursery shelves held books galore!
Books cluttered up the nursery floor!
And in the bedroom, by the bed,
More books were waiting to be read!
Such wondrous, fine, fantastic tales
Of dragons, gypsies, queens, and whales
And treasure isles, and distant shores
Where smugglers rowed with muffled oars,
And pirates wearing purple pants,
And sailing ships and elephants,
And cannibals crouching ’round the pot,
Stirring away at something hot.
(It smells so good, what can it be?
Good gracious, it’s Penelope.)
The younger ones had Beatrix Potter
With Mr. Tod, the dirty rotter,
And Squirrel Nutkin, Pigling Bland,
And Mrs. Tiggy-Winkle and-
Just How The Camel Got His Hump,
And How the Monkey Lost His Rump,
And Mr. Toad, and bless my soul,
There’s Mr. Rat and Mr. Mole-
Oh, books, what books they used to know,
Those children living long ago!
So please, oh please, we beg, we pray,
Go throw your TV set away,
And in its place you can install
A lovely bookshelf on the wall.
Then fill the shelves with lots of books,
Ignoring all the dirty looks,
The screams and yells, the bites and kicks,
And children hitting you with sticks-
Fear not, because we promise you
That, in about a week or two
Of having nothing else to do,
They’ll now begin to feel the need
Of having something to read.
And once they start — oh boy, oh boy!
You watch the slowly growing joy
That fills their hearts. They’ll grow so keen
They’ll wonder what they’d ever seen
In that ridiculous machine,
That nauseating, foul, unclean,
Repulsive television screen!
And later, each and every kid
Will love you more for what you did.

Roald Dahl

It's moments like these....

Do you know what my oldest son did today?

My gentle, lovely, peaceful Billy?

The one who is bullied and bitten by his younger brother sometimes?

The one who wouldn't hurt a fly, or if he did he'd be really really sorry and probably cry?

He threw his teddy bear AT MY HEAD!

Do you know why?

Because I told him to put the bear away for songs and prayers.

When I stopped seeing red and took appropriate disciplinary action and was again able to remember all the parenting proverbs that I know (don't take misbehavior personally, discipline is about THEM not YOU, think of it as a training opportunity!) I realised, this is why the Lord woke me up at 5am this morning for a little extra prayer time, He knew I'd need it!

How I plan to teach art to my kids:

Study one artist, period, culture, media or movement per term in three stages over twelve weeks, one hour per week.

Before the study starts:

collect books, websites etc. about the study subject. Collect the art consumables.

Consume & Copy –

Week one and two –View works of art relevant to the study and sketch one per week in art journal. Use the internet, books, prints, actual works etc. Read about the study subject (i.e. artist biographies, books about the historical or cultural context) and discuss subject with others. If you chose a subject that connects in with your other schoolwork (i.e. study Da Vinci when you are studying Renaissance) you can kill two birds with one stone! Continue reading and discussion throughout study.

Week three and four – make an “other media” copy of a favorite work (i.e. paint a copy of Van Gough’s Sunflowers on canvas, make a copy of a Turkish mosaic with cut out paper)

Compare & Contrast –

Week five and six– Compare two works within the study (e.g. Van Gough’s Sunflowers with his self portrait or a Turkish mosaic with a mosaic from the Taj Mahal). Paste printed out pictures from the internet etc in your art journal and write things that are the same and things that are different. Pay attention to lines, colour, subject matter, media, where things are placed (on the canvas, in the photo etc.). Write which you prefer and why.

Week seven and eight– compare one work from within the study with one that is not in the study but that uses similar topics or media or is from the same time period (e.g. Van Gough’s Sunflowers with a modern painting of sunflowers, DaVinci’s Last Supper with Michelangelo’s Sistine chapel). Paste printed out pictures from the internet etc in your art journal and write things that are the same and things that are different. Pay attention to lines, colour, subject matter, media, where things are placed (on the canvas, in the photo etc.). Write which you prefer and why.

Compose and exhibit–

Plan and create an artwork using a media or style or subject learned about. For example, paint an original canvass painting of a sunflower or create a mosaic using small tiles or photograph people posed in a Bible story scene. This is done over four weeks for a reason! An artist doesn't compose a work in an hour and then call it finished! Plan in the first week (sketch onto canvass, draw a plan etc) then do over the next week(s). If it doesn't work, there is time to do over the next week. If you are all finished early you can invite someone around the next week to show them the artistic creation! If you aren't, just put it on display in the home.

Suggested 6 year cycle for non/early readers

Year One - Ancient Egyptian, Babylonian, Roman

Year Two - Monastery calligraphy and iconography, Islamic art (Turkey, northern Africa), mosaics

Year Three - Da Vinci, Michelangelo, Japanese Art

Year Four - Spanish art, Monet, Van Gough

Year Five - local art galleries, photography, Picasso

Year Six - Aboriginal Art, Australian Colonial Art, Australian Iconography

This is all rough and elastic and is built to go with our lifestyle and planned history studies etc. Just thought I'd share!