And so goes the roller coaster

Yes, God has a sense of humor.

Remember my very recent post about my temptation toward discouragement regarding a certain child's public behavior?

Well, guess what happened THAT VERY SAME DAY. (I've been holding back on you because I've been hoping for pictures from the other parent present.)

IAN PASSED HIS ORANGE BELT TEST IN TAE KWON DO!

The test was a surprise, sort of -- i.e. it was done in class, and not previously announced. It was Ian and one other child whom his teacher, Ms. Chapaty, thought were ready. And it lasted two and a half hours!

I was a wreck. At one point I couldn't look, because during the sparring he came really close to blowing the whole thing by forgetting the rules in the heat of the moment. But she gave him another chance, and he bounced back and did so well. Then there was the final event, the board-breaking. When he saw what he needed to do, after two hours of constant work, we could all see him fighting back tears. His instructor and the junior leaders poured on the encouragement, and we could see him steady himself and fight for his focus. Well, he smashed that board [with his foot] on his very first try!!!!! We all went bananas.

Ian was glowing afterward. He even remembered to congratulate the other child who passed the test. Ms. Chapaty pulled me aside to tell him very seriously how proud she was of him, and how well he did on the test. We marveled together at how far he's come in the past nine months, not only passing two tough belt tests but also developing his focus and perseverance. She almost used those fateful and oh-so-elusive words: "A pleasure to have in class." Heh.

You know, I think as parents we all hope that someone, or some ones, will come into our child's life who will believe in him, expect and demand the best of him, and give him the encouragement he needs to make it happen. Someone who trains for skill but values character even more. Tough but tender, you might describe it. Someone who is able, for an hour or two a week, to be that leader and mentor that we wish we could be for the other however 150 or so hours we're with them that week.

Ian's instructor has been that for him. We feel so blessed! She knows some of the issues we're dealing with, like the ADHD diagnosis, and so she takes a particular interest in his progress. And here's an example of how seriously she takes her job: A few weeks ago, she respectfully asked a mother not to return to the dojang because that mother was repeatedly being verbally abusive to her young sons [as other parents confirmed]. The way Cathy put it to us, she would never accept that behavior from herself or from the kids, so she can't allow it in her facility AT ALL. The family left in a huff, which no doubt involved financial loss to the business (which she owns), but upheld a high standard of integrity, which she feels is more valuable in the long run. That impressed me, because it couldn't have been easy to stand up to someone that volatile.

Another good thing that's come of Ian's experience there has been his interest in pursuing Junior Leadership. That opportunity comes with his next belt (green) but also involves logging a certain number of hours of leadership development -- by leading the warm-ups in class and by assisting with the younger class of 3-5 year olds. So, once a week he goes and helps out with the Tiny Texans, which honestly is the best thing in the world for him, as far as I can see.

Amazing

Check out this story from today's broadcast of "All Things Considered" on NPR:
http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=92642058

If you have time, I highly recommend listening to the full interview, which is only 8 minutes long. I found it so captivating I had to sit in my car by the gas pump at Costco, waiting for it to be over so I could get out and fill up my van!

Ain't that the truth

Caroline's only ten minutes out of bed this morning before the following visual aid occurs to her.

She holds up her index finger and middle finger, stuck tightly together.

"Mom, this is YOU" -- index finger -- "and this is ME" -- middle finger.

Got it.

An Alien Invasion

They've really done it this time, those extraterrestrial invaders. They've sucked up my son and replaced him with a child who, at 8:10 a.m., is saying to his father, "C'mon, Dad! Let's get on the bike! We need to get to camp!"

Uh huh. I kid you not. This kind of martian is not altogether unwelcome.

On the other hand, I must, in the interest of full disclosure, tell you that when I picked him up today, something nudged me to ask the teacher how he was "doing" (meaning, "behaving") in class. She mentioned that he was OK but that there had been a bit of name-calling. Sigh.

He related to me right away that he'd had to sit out once or twice to chill out. No particulars on why, and he still seemed to have had a good time, but apparently we haven't achieved Full Angelic Status yet.

I was starting to feel discouraged as we drove home, starting to plot my little chat with my son. Cue the violin music -- WHY can my son not handle a classroom environment of any kind? WHY must he name-call when that's totally unacceptable at our house, and he's NOT a mean kid? WHY must he always be just a bit ... impulsive? (This happened at one of our co-ops last year on a regular basis, although he was by no means the only one). I grew up bringing home report cards, homework, essays spangled with "A's" and praise -- and most of it came pretty easily to me. Now, here I am doing the hardest assignment of my life, and whoa, there are NO easy "A's." There might not even BE "A's" at all. It might all be a big mystery, plugging away at the homework (Home Work) until after the final exam, whenever that may be.

Well, guess what? Got some light, folks. Every SINGLE time I question God as to WHYyyyy my kids are a certain way, despite my tireless efforts to turn out upstanding citizens, despite my secret craving for the kind of "joy to have in class" feedback that strokes the parental ego, He reminds me: I got exactly the children that I NEED.

"But darling" -- says God to me -- "if you had trophy children whose behavior constantly validated your success as a parent, wouldn't you be rather insufferable? So ugly in your pride and self-sufficiency? So disdainful of other parents who 'clearly don't have things under control'?"

Here's a little relevant something that shepherded my soul last weekend, from the study of the book of Luke we're doing as a church: "Although Christ as the High Priest is taking care of us, we all have our own thought and feelings as to how He should care of us; many times we do not know what is best for us or what the reason is for certain things; only the Lord as the High Priest knows the reason, and His care for us is always positive."

More Post-It Fun

The girls are in the other room, planning a "show" to be performed behind the curtain that is a silk blanket stretched across their doorway. They've moved on from a lengthy round of Post-It treasure hunt, in which they "hid" sticky notes all over the house for each other to find. Ah, summertime.

And where is Ian? Well, having uttered the phrase, "There's nothing to dooooo" one time too many, he is currently enrolled in Mad Science camp, learning all the technical and scientific aspects of being a Real Spy. I really thought we could make it through the summer without shelling out for any camps, but I seem to have overlooked the fact that it's at least 98 degrees here every day, that we don't live in a neighborhood with lots of kids, and that this is a child who needs a certain amount of stimulation. Kudos to my dear husband, who, twenty two seconds into my sales pitch last week, interrupted me to say, "Sign him up! I'll take him on the bike in the morning." Kudos also to my friend Stephanie for recommending the camp based on the experience of her own likeminded son. I am just PRAYING that he will enjoy it and not dig in his heels about finishing out the week, because I HATE those dilemmas. I'm just tough enough (and thrifty enough!) to know that finishing what we start is Good For Us, but not tough enough to send a miserable child back in there with a "Good Luck, Honey!"

Oops, the show is starting. Just heard my cue.

Workers

Did you hear that story in the news about how in the city of Atlanta, they're taking down all the "Men Working" signs because someone objected to the sexist overtones, and now all the signs just say "Workers?" Well, I am "working" on this blog page, trying to make it prettier, but severely hampered by my ineptitude with Photoshop. Be patient, please, while I consult with my muses -- Tim and Jenny.

I haven't blogged much this week, mostly for lack of energy and cute anecdotes to relate. My head is very, very busy, though -- even though my body, enslaved to the 100-degree heat wave we're having, is anything BUT busy. At least, it doesn't WANT to be busy. But the maids and nannies forgot to show up to work all week, so the poor mistress of the house is -- gasp! -- in charge of staving off domestic chaos all by herself.

Funny, they forgot last week, too.

You know, before you have kids, and even when they're wee ones and mostly agreeable, you're smugly convinced that you will NEVER ... and your children will NEVER ...

And then God chuckles tolerantly. And with a mind to prove you otherwise, lest you be haughty beyond all enduring?

OK, so let's take one of my hot-button issues as an example. We were NEVER going to have food be an Issue in our house. No no, we would just provide a variety of whole, preferably organic and naturally colorful foods, and our children would happily graze away on nature's bounty. Their palates, conditioned to sushi and pad thai and gazpacho and pasta with fresh pesto, would shirk from processed junk or anything containing partially hydrogenated oils. I wouldn't really care WHEN they ate, although I'd require them to sit down with us for the joyful dinner hour, because I'd rest in such comfort with WHAT they ate.

All I can say is ...

(How do you spell this word? Think early '90's, people ...) TCHAHHHH!

Which being interpreted is ... you ridiculous fool!

So now I feel myself morphing into a tight ball of anger over the fact that I buy wholesome groceries and certain people in this house will hardly touch them. They rummage for anything processed, anything with sugar, anything given to them by the Candy Fairies we seem to encounter on a weekly basis. They (one in particular) will happily munch on hotdogs and white buns at the neighbor's house, like a prisoner eating his last meal, and then claim to "not be hungry" when I set a home-cooked offering upon the table.

And I'm super frustrated with myself for getting to this point, for being resentful when I should be loving. At a meeting last night I attended on the book of Luke, I so enjoyed how the jubilee of grace, which is really just the person of Christ, sets us free from all our anxieties, which just come from giving room in our hearts to things other than Him. It all seemed so easy last night, to just live in this joy and let it spill over into these interactions I have with my band of three disciples.

So why so angry today? I feel it building in me like a coiled snake, especially the food issue. I guess at the bottom is the fact that there ARE other things in my heart -- mostly my expectations and aspirations for my children. I get frustrated because I want to be appreciated, I want my labor for them to be valued, I want to see that my values are taking hold in them RIGHT NOW. I want them, if the truth be told, to be more mature than they are, to stop being so CHILDISH. To hurry up and be 22 and prove to me that it all did pay off, and not only do they eat decently (fruit, even!) and clean up after themselves, but they also let me know that, gosh, Mom, thanks for all those meals and loads of laundry and books read aloud.

Hmmm ... let's see. Who's doing the growing up, here?

Gas prices got you down?

Five Ingredients for a Free, Fuel-Efficient Mid-Morning Outing:

1. Two human-powered vehicles: a double-jogger and a scooter.



Oh, and legs.


2. A post-it note with a little scavenger hunt for motivation (something red, white and blue; something with four legs, etc.)


3. A near-by playground.




4. With a shady bench and a moment for Mama to commune with Jane Austen.(Or listen to computer game strategies -- ALMOST as pleasant. Sort of.)









5. Cat-tails to harvest -- useful for washing people's gardens and sidewalks.