A Worthy Life

are you smarter than a {home}schooler?!

Amazingly we are back into the swing of all things academic here in our home academy. After being momentarily derailed by rampant sickness and a host of other distractions (all academic as well, mind you), we are back at the kitchen table hammering out our reading, writing, and arithmetic. (Sadly, my spell check just red-lined my inability to spell arithmetic so from here to forth I shall refer to it by it's street name: math.) We're learning lots, the kids and I. Most of it are things I learned decades ago but find my brain as dense as Swiss cheese, not the preferred soaking-it-up sort of density of a sponge. So it's always fun and challenging to relearn and re-explore with the kids as I see the world being unveiled one lesson at a time in front of them.

I thought I'd add a new category here for posterity's sake. A weekly questionnaire recapping the things we've learned and new discoveries made. If you want to play along, please think out your answers before checking other's comments as you report your own to prevent any temptation to cheat!

Of those participants who get all the answers correct, I'll select one at random to receive a new copy of Katie Meets the Impressionists, one of a series of delightful children's stories that provide a colorful and entertaining introduction to the arts. 

1. What is Gilada?

a. a frozen ice concoction made famous by the Italians

b. a large African baboon

c. small town in Papua, New Guinea

2. If you have two loonies and a toonie, how much money do you have?

a. $5

b. $3

c. a fist full of birds

3. What is the highest mountain peak in the world?

a. Mt. Everest

b. Kilimanjaro

c. Mt. St. Helen

4. What famous artist created the masterpiece, Field of Poppies?

a. Claude Monet

b. Pierre Auguste Renoir

c. Edgar Degas

5. What famous hymn does this line come from, "His truth to triumph through us"?

a. How Great Thou Art

b. A Mighty Fortress is Our God

c. Jesus Loves Me

How's that for a pop quiz?! Please, no cheating, wikipedia-ing, or googling! You must know off the top of your head!

Happy Schooling, right in the comfort of your home! ;o)

mrs. jones: superstar{r}

"We all wanna be big big stars, but we don't know why and we don't know how."

I had breakfast with a famous hockey player a few months back. (If I'd mention his name, half of you wouldn't know him because most of you don't care about hockey the way good Canadians do. The other half of you might not recognize his name because you don't care about hockey and their stars the way you should.) I had gone to breakfast with my mom and sister visiting from the States (who don't know hockey the way they ought, by the way). We were jabbering away, the way most women do, when he walked past our table on his way to pay for his meal. Ok, ok, truth be told, I merely had breakfast in the same eating establishment as him but it was a brush with fame no less. I whispered to my family after he had past, "That's so-and-so, a huge hockey star here in town." My mom was a bit disgruntled and said, "Oh, I wish I would've looked better!" Mom?! You're a married woman! You think you might have attracted his attention and wooed him?! Shame on you!! Oh, you merely meant you wished you had caught a better look? Oops, my bad!

But there was that one time I vacationed in Niagra Falls with Terrance Howard. The attraction started back in Mr. Holland's Opus and I had always sort of kept an eye on his rising star. We met up for a few days of R&R and while admiring the natural beauty of the thundering falls, I have to admit I was more than a few times distracting by his eyes, the color of the falling beauties. I tugged on my husband's arm after Terrance had passed us by and again whispered, "Did you see who that was?! That was Terrance Howard!" Of course, my poor husband who doesn't love Mr. Holland's Opus like he should, disrespectfully responded, "Who?!" Oh, I am SO sorry Terrance! I am so glad you were out of earshot by then!

My brushes with fame, and I've had more than a few, is but small evidence to a more national obsession with stardom. There's a epidemic sweeping our culture today: Desperately Seeking Celebrity, or DSC for short. Everyone's looking for their 15 minutes of fame and they don't care much how they come about achieving it. We all wanna be big, big stars and we don't care why and we don't care how. We watch the lives of our favorite People unfold on the covers of magazines as we slowly pass through the grocery line. We ooh and aah at their Cribs and wish our homes were as big and grand and decadent as their garage. We see their star rise in Forbes as their earnings outmatch ours 1,000,000,000:1. We read their Biographies and think to ourselves, 'I wished that would happen to me'. We don't want to just be bright minds, we want to be Stars. We won't settle for the love of our friends and family, we want to be Idol-ized.

When I say we, I do mean me. If you know me at all, you know I have my fair share of days of longing for some recognition or tangible ways of measuring my life's investment. If I was honest with myself, I would admit to longing for a red carpet waltz or at the very least, international attention (only positive, of course!). Maybe I could save the lives of a plane full of people or maybe I could write a love song that reaches #1. Maybe I could turn my passions into profit or maybe my social work could spawn a widley recognized non-profit.

It's not that I feel that what I'm doing as a career stay-at-home mom is inadequate. I fully realize the wealth of possibility and contribution in my line of work or else you can bet your bottom dollar I wouldn't be doing it! I just wonder, as so many of us do, if I am living up to my fullest potential. I long to live a life that makes a difference yet question if it could be making more of one. I desire to touch the lives of many and raise a generation that will touch many more, but will they? I want my work to have an impact but worry that it's just a copy of another's better original.

And then, I read something the other day that gave me such renewed purpose and a redirected desire to make my life count:

 "'Men and women who have lived wisely and well will shine brilliantly, like the cloudless, star-strewn night skies. And those who put others on the right path to life will glow like stars forever." Daniel 12:3

Whether or not anyone knows my name or reads about me in their history books, I know the path that I have chosen and the one that God has chosen for me. I might not have picked the smartest detours or chosen the bumps and mountains along the way, but I do so desire to be one whose worthy life leads many, or at least more than a few, to the Right Path.

Because in the eternal currency of heaven, all the world's gold is only gonna wind up as pavement anyways! ;o)

(Please forgive my linky overboard-ism. I'm trying for a world record for most links in a post! j/j ;o)

my (stayathome) babe theory

Classic glamour. Understated elegance. Timeless charm. Totally out of my league.

To me, this picture simply embodies all the romance and nostalgia of years long past. Days when time passed slower. Days when dinner was on at 5 and your husband walked through the door with hat and briefcase in hand. Days when friendship and conversation were shared in backyards and on porches. Days when you knew your neighbors names, where they worked, and what their children were up to. Days when women woke with the dawn to greet the milkman and then set to readying their hair and face for the day's duties ahead. With apron thrown over her dress, she set to work - the housework, the yardwork, the shopping, the laundry, the preparations for dinner.

This vision, while part romanticized and part idealistic, is still a far cry from many stay at home mothers of today. Yuppie moms pull on their lululemon pants and t-shirt and the rest of us keep on the borrowed sweats from our husband's gym wardrobe. I often contemplate doing my hair but then I think, why the heck would I?! Except on Mondays and the occasional errand day, I can usually pull off not seeing a single soul outside my home unless otherwise pre-informed and usually just throw myself together in time for the scheduled appointment. Sure, I'd be embarrassed if my neighbor happened to see me au natural but chances are I won't be seeing them again for another 6 months to a year anyway so I convince myself that the potential humility isn't worth scrubbing my face and showering at 6 am.

Until I stumbled across an article months ago highlighting the alleged Babe Theory of political movements. The supposed theory says that wherever the beautiful women, that's where the the country is headed. Here, I'll hand it over to the original author, P.J. O'Rourke, who says it best,

"It's just that beautiful women are always on the cutting edge of social trends. Remember how many beautiful women were in the anti-war movement twenty years ago? In the yoga classes fifteen years ago? At the discos ten years ago? On Wall Street five years ago? Where the beautiful women are is where the country is headed," said my friend. "And this," he looked around him, "isn't it."

If I would have read on, I imagined he might have been casting a timid look into the halls of my home. By choosing to stay home and be ever present in the lives of my children, and further more by keeping them home for their early education, I am in small part making a political statement of my own by doing so. My choices say that I believe the home is the foundation of our society, that the culture of today is set in the foundations of the family. By making a career out of raising my children and fanning into flames the flickers of their being and becoming, I make my home my office and my political epicenter.

But could I take my campaign on the road? Could I woo any other supporters or convince other desiring or curious mothers to make the jump onto my side of the fence by my representation of my choice? Not with this slovenly approach I won't. If I frequently set out with unwashed hair and crusty sweatshirt and am observed by other citizens, how will they perceive my own invested worth in this calling? Will my corporate success/pregnant acquaintance look at me with disdain and vow to herself to never let me happen to herself? 

It's not that I'm actively seeking converts to my way of life or on an ambitious campaign trail to reform motherhood. It's just that I wonder if my own lackadaisical approach to my choice to be home is sabotaging the value of my example. If all stay at home mothers look stressed and constantly twitter and chat online to their virtual counterparts about how stressed they are, chances are other women will not be flocking to our cause that we say we feel so strongly about.

On the other hand, if my belief that the home truly does set the tone of our culture, maybe I should be working to reveal the hidden babe potential in my own image. Maybe by slipping on a vintage dress with coordinating apron and stilettos I can convince the world that the babes are in the home. That the front lines of society are working full time with their children and looking darn good doing so.

If even doing that fails, maybe by daily polishing up my appearance, I can further prove to my husband that going out for a hamburger can never beat steak at home.

It'll be ready at 5 when you come through the door. With or without the hat and briefcase. 

*This picture is one a friend found recently in his family archives. I loved it and had it blown up as a housewarming gift for our friend. How classic is it?!

natura/beauty

I wake to the man-made wonders of skyscrapers and technology on every hand
and wonder, 'For all man's made, what is he truly made of?'

While we thrill at the rush of horsepower beneath exotic hoods and hemi's over gilded wheels,
we forget the value of contentment and living within our means.

We lust after SUVs and luxury rides that inflate our self-image
while caring far less about our true inner worth.

We sacrifice our bodily temples to the gods of silicone
and bow to the valleys of Silicon.

                ______________________

I wish I wasn't such in awe of super models
and desired more to model the examples of super women.

Yet I pity the superficial beauties who bare all to capitalize on their best assets
and envy the grace of ones like Mother Theresa and Amy Carmichael who clothed themselves instead with humility.

I long for a world that embraces wrinkles, love handles, and crooked smiles
and eschews the tweaked, the lifted, and the flawless plastic.

I shake my head at common knowledge that claims, 'God helps those who help themselves'
and yearn for wisdom that cries out, "Greater love has no man than this, that he lay down his life for his friend".

winterlude

Can you believe that this weekend was the first time I've ever skated on the World's Longest Icerink?! It's Winterlude in Canada's capital so we sauntered to town for a skate. Phffssh, no we di'int! We shoved our skates and snowpants in the van with frenetic excitement, chattered with the fervency of baboons eager to scratch the head vermin out of every one of their pink reared relatives, and giggled in anticipation of the thrill that awaited us in ten, nine, eight,... um, no, it turned out to be more like 48 minutes while we waited for our friends to join us in the fun but no matter! Later than expected but with nary a damper to our spirits we finally arrived and set off, tearing up the ice with our lightning speed skating. Yeah, that didn't happen either. Most of our pals headed off at their own pace and I hung back with the girls who are still mastering the fine art of walking on water. Turns out the best way to skate with a newbie is not to hold hands with them and urge them along. Nor is it exactly helpful to grasp for help on the mama who is desperately trying to avoid the glacial crevices that doom you to a frantic freefall. So we found a clear patch of ice in between the lanes of more experienced skaters and got a feel for the ice and enjoyed our sweet company of three.

Words nor pictures can adequately convey the beauty of the moments skating in the twilight hour, feeling the rush and thrill of skaters around us, observing the shared enjoyment of friends out for a stroll or lovers out on a date or parents desperate to keep up with their toddlers who race on ahead. I couldn't believe the number of little tykes outskating me and twisting and turning with brilliant ease! I so want to skate like them when I grow up!

As it turns out, if you forgive Old Man Winter the sub-zero temps and the shorter dreary days and his insistence that very few days can actually be enjoyed in the great outdoors, he may just give you a blessed few where unforgettable memories will be forged.

cook/general

She gave a cursory glance at the choices on the page before her and quickly chose one at random. Times were desperate and time to ponder her future fate was a luxury she did not have. Her father had already been sent from his native Estonia to Siberia and urged the rest of the family to escape before the Soviet's regime of terror inflicted more tragedy on his loved ones. So she prepared her immigration papers, first seeking refuge in Germany and then seeking work abroad in Canada. Canada would become home to less than 3,000 Estonian refugees and she was one of the few brought over to give domestic assistance to those who could afford the help. Although, no one had clearly explained this to her nor her options of employment.

Welcomed kindly by a doctor and his family, her new employers were warm and gracious and allowed time for her to acclimate to her new situation and surroundings. The doctor's wife soon found her patience thinning as her new help seemed ill prepared to perform her duties. She must have chosen her own skills, thought the Mrs., and yet her incompetency in these areas was dumbfounding. Having had enough, she finally approached the young Estonian and demanded why she had chosen "Cook/General" as her proffered services. The young lady was as taken back as her boss. She had never cooked a day in her life! English was not a language clearly understood to her nor easily read. She had merely picked one skill set out of the list, desperate for an opportunity to escape! The doctor's wife explained, with thinly veiled frustration in her voice, that it meant that she could do cooking and general housekeeping. The light finally dawned on the refugee and, though have limited experience in either, she continued on for this forgiving family and her abilities grew as she labored faithfully day in and day out.

As I listened to this account, retold by one of our friends during one of our visits to the old-age home, the humor of her story continued to delight even it's teller. Days later I would think of my own immigration process, one began less because I desired a safe haven outside of my own country and more because my husband-to-be desired to be my safe haven for as long as we both should live. He had a mental list of his own I'm sure of all the requirements of character and characteristics he sought in a bride. I fulfilled them all, was his oft repeated reassurance.

Perhaps, as a young girl, in her physical prime and at the peak of feminine allure to a smitten suitor, I really was all an old(er) bachelor was looking for. Yet as the honeymoon period wore off and the family and home responsibilities mounted, my skills of "looking cute in shorts" and "enjoying beach volleyball" fell quite short in the greater arena of "Cook/General"!

No week has this been more true than this one. With four sick kids rotating their times of fever and sore throats and all with desperate desire for their mother's affectionate snuggles, I have literally done little to no cooking or housekeeping. Every time I get geared to create a fury of soapsuds in the kitchen and decimate the mountain of laundry sitting on the living room couch, I am approached by a fussy babe in need of a little TLC.

At no point in this 7 day cook/general hiatus has my dear husband and immigration procurer complained or scolded me or frustratingly asked me about the forsaken duties of his day laborer. So great is his love for me and his children that we are his primary concern. If we are good, than all is good. If we are at rest and all the house in distress, all is good.

So, here's a happy valentine's smooch going out to my husband who kindly excuses my frequent oversights in cook/general. Either you must really love me or I still look good in shorts! xo ;o)

bathtime

 
...and to all a good night!

surprise!

Last night we celebrated with a dear friend her 3*th birthday. Her husband set the ball in motion and it took only a quick email to her friends to have them pull together a cake, some snacks, and drinks. I was feeling quite exhausted from the fitful nights of sleep the last three weeks have afforded me. After a bout with the flu and now Round #2 with nasty colds and fevers, I wondered if I should just stay home and take it easy. That thought proved quite fleeting. The irrationality soon past, I could then devote the rest of my time trying to talk my face into looking well rested and socially acceptable with a hearty dousing with cosmetics and a fierce attempt at smoothing unwashed hair.

The guests were largley women I knew, some well, some with just a passing recognition.Yet by the end of our three hour visit, I felt wiser, stronger, lighter. I learned from their wisdom in brief conversation. I gained strength from their experiences. I felt reenergized from laughter shared together.

I came home much later than I anticipated after a short walk home. The fresh air seemed so symbolic of what I experienced amongst friends. I felt a sort of cleansing, a bit of a change had come over me. I was inspired by their example and their friendship, blessed to be counted as a friend in such a group of women. My mind was refreshed by the showings and tellings of their earnest desires for their families and marriages. New and old ideas and discouragements that had weighed me down just hours before were replaced with renewed hope and a revived will.

At times I feel an island to myself, isolated and cut off from interaction and influence from other people. Busy at home, researching frequently the ideas and efforts of others online, I had perhaps gone astray in much of my thinking. The deluge of information and education that I was feeding on did little more than leave me falling short, oh so short, of all that I thought I needed to do and definitely should do. But seeing real women in the flesh, with their swollen bellies anticipating new birth and their swollen eyelids heavy from little rest, made me forget all the ideals and the ambitions that I feel so aggressively shoved at me from every side. I momentarily forgot my urgency to have my kids understanding Latin by grade 3, enrolling them in another activity, or stressing to fit in some over-the-top experiment for them each week.

While these desires aren't fully abandoned, I realized that what I want most for my girls is what was exemplified this evening. I want them to have M's sincerity and genuine care for people. I want them to have K's thirst for spiritual understanding. I want them to have M(2)'s unassuming manner and gentle demeanor. I want them to be able to echo G's enthusiasm in welcoming whatever God has for her. I want them to have S's friendliness and eagerness to serve others. I want them to have J's luminous smile and quick laugh. I want them to experience friendship as I have known it from these women. I want them to possess the depth of joy that comes from giving of themselves to others and allowing themselves to be blessed in return.

My gift to the birthday girl was a framed photograph from a session I had with her last week. My surprise to her, in addition to being able to keep the party a secret from her, is posting a few of them here for all the world to see! ;o)

Thanks for turning another year older! The trouble you go through to ensure I have a good time once in awhile...! Truly a great friend! :o)

wishin' & hopin' & plannin' & prayin'

 

dreamer

I'm a dreamer. Within the vast spaces of my mind ;o), fantastical visions of things that I can or could do or want to do dance with reckless abandon. There is seldom any cohesive choreography to these movements of thought, just a freestyle menagerie of delusions and illusions.

I dream of things I long to do, places I long to go, achievements I long to achieve, people I long to meet. I dream that someday, one day, the mirages of my musings might one day shift from reflection to reality.

Lately these dreams have been causing me a bit of distress. With my head so stuck up in the clouds of desire, I have often become discontent with the calls of duty. I worry that I am wasting my fullest potential while resisting my highest calling. I wonder if I was meant for bigger things while lazily putting off the smaller things. I grow discontent with what I have to do today and yearn for something better to do tomorrow. I grumble at the challenges of the night and hold out hope that victory will burst forth in the morning.

As I pondered these things in my heart (as it turns out, "as a man thinketh in his heart, so is he"), a simple test and solution was revealed to me. A test to determine if my dreams were possible and if so, how? A test to verify my progress and limitations. A test to reveal that if these things weren't possible, why?

Here are the simple questions of my test:

1. Can I do this, within my current means, understanding, and opportunities?
2. If not, what are the necessary steps needed to secure these things?
3. What sacrifices are you willing to make to take these steps?

Let me show you how this works, with completely hypothetical examples, of course.

Dream Example #1: I want to go to India.
1. I cannot now afford it.
2. I would have to save up for the trip.
3. I am willing to put aside $X every month while forgoing my weekly manicures.
Result: Dream Example #1 is within my reach...by the year 2069. ;o)

Dream Example #2: I would love to begin a side career and make it to the top of that industry within 2 years time.
1. Some, if not most, of the necessary tools are within my proverbial toolbox.
2. I would need to invest X amount of time everyday to pursue more knowledge in this area, some time to build contacts, and time to network among my peers.
3. I am not willing to sacrifice time with my husband, homeschooling my kids, or lessening my involvement in the lives of others at this present time to accomplish this lofty ambition.
Result: Dream Example #2 could very well be possible but I am not willing to stop living my Dream Life to achieve a less worthy goal.

When I break things down in this simple way, I am enlightened in the real world. My eyes cease their REM to awaken to things already in my life that in so many ways are much, much better than even my craziest dreams. As elementary as these questions are, they have served me well in the last few weeks. These weeks have been filled with assumed monotony but certain situations have since been revealed as wonderful miracles. I've passed my days in silent loneliness but the slower moments have allowed me to learn about the silent injustices others face every day. While the weather outside has been frigid and cruel, I have know the warmth of friendship and provision within the comfort of my beautiful home.

I guess what I've really learned is that the best dreams are those that have already come true. And that I never for a moment want to discount their value and their potential or miss out completely on living my dreams come true because I was too busy chasing a fool's paradise.

 

(my men, in sweet REM)