Recently a friend mentioned that television show, "The Middle." At first, I thought she was talking about "Malcolm in the Middle," which I've never seen, but have heard of before. Anyway, what she said about the show piqued my interest, so I caught a few episodes here and there online, and oh my goodness, it was way too familiar. I found myself laughing hysterically more than a few times, and more often than not, it's because I've experienced the same or similar situations in my own life. For those of you out there who have watched the show, you'll realize that there's nothing to be proud of here. Appliances breaking down, sink and tub backing up (ON EACH OTHER)...um, yeah, bathing and washing dishes have to be done with care. Our fridge often refuses to stay shut, so I have to get creative with ways to keep the door from opening. Thankfully, as a homeschooling family, we're never short on items (namely wheeled containers full of supplies) to stick in front of the door. We seldom use our kitchen table for its intended purpose, and it's not because we don't want to, we just can't all fit around it. The last time we tried to have everyone eat at the table, my husband sat on his guitar amp, wedged into a corner between the sink and the air conditioner, and whenever someone had to get up, we all had to get up to move the table, and allow the person out, via chair-stepping no less. Classy.
So yes, there was a lot with which to identify.
Hahaha, and now I just had a flashback to when I was a kid. We'd freak out whenever someone would walk into the bathroom when one of us was showering. And no, we weren't allowed to lock the door. We had one bathroom, none of this 1-1/2 bath business, so we had to remain accommodating, even while showering. Anyway, it always followed that the person showering, would beg the person visiting the john, to please not flush for fear of being scalded to death. It's even a sniglet--thermalophobia! That's actually the only "The Middle"ish type of situation I remember from childhood. Things sort of went downhill since then!
Anyway, as sobering as it was for me to see just how tragically comic such living arrangements and family situations can be, it kind of cheered me up a bit. If anything, I tell myself that living this way builds character. And as for me, either I'll achieve nirvana via the perpetual trying of my patience until I've lost all my worldliness (the little that's left of it), or I'll have an aneurysm at 40.
Tuesday, August 7, 2012
If this school year has a theme, it’s color coding...
Ever since my kids started homeschooling, or rather, ever
since I started schooling more than one child, I have taken to color coding. E
was always pink, S was purple, and F was blue. Up until yesterday, the color
coding was mainly done in my record keeping. Each kid’s schedules were
highlighted in their individual colors. For a while, I did all of my record
keeping in just one planner. That was messy, albeit colorful. I briefly tried
out a record-keeping software program which didn’t have a color coding option.
I’m old school anyway, and preferred writing everything out by hand. So one
planner, turned into three, but at least I could color code in them. And yes,
that’s an awful lot of writing, and I’m sure that that may seem tedious to
many. For me, it’s soothing.
This year, after many many MANY episodes of
“this-is-mine-no-this-is-mine,” I decided to color code just about
everything—schedules and all school supplies. What couldn’t be purchased in
color is initialed. What couldn’t be initialed stays with me. I’m like the
keeper of the keys. I’ve debated making my personal stash of supplies available
to the kids in a lending library sort of way. Okay, I haven’t really planned on
this, but writing it all out makes me wish I’d actually follow through with
this idea. After years of homeschooling in a cramped apartment where everything
seems to go missing, I’ll hold fast to any idea that gives me a semblance of
order.
As usual, each year comes with a whole bunch of new expectations,
attempted improvements, and a dose of anticipation. This time it will come with
an added bit of color.
Thursday, August 2, 2012
3-2-1 Oh Scrap...
Holy moly, am I touchy this week! That, and highly irritable.
To the kids:
No, high pitched screaming, even in jest, does not constitute singing.
For some reason, as delusional as it makes me sound, I thought that the choruses of, "Mom he/she keeps bothering me!" would have died down by now. Instead, it's reached a crescendo. What's up with that? For Pete's sake, you're 16, 13, and 12.
And um, how is it even possible that it's more difficult keeping the apartment tidy now, than when you guys were toddlers?
Something's gotta give.
It's like the stars have aligned to make this week unbearably exasperating. And the summer, as in "summer break" is nearly over, too. And that really stinks.
Maybe we've had way too much unscheduled time this summer, and I think that the exhaustion and dis-ease I've been feeling in the past several weeks has made me less diligent at keeping everyone accountable for things. Actually, I'm sure that these are definitely factors. I'd toss them out for extra obligatory outdoor time (read: Mommy alone time), but wonder if that would be construed as a reward. Yes, yes it would. I'm tempted to channel Mr. Bennet.
"...you are never to stir out of doors till you can prove that you have spent ten minutes of every day in a rational manner."
Sigh.
But that would only work with two of them. My middle child has decided that she "doesn't like the sun." I'd have to come up with something else for her. Dishes. Dishes would be perfect.
So yeah, our summer break is soon coming to an end, and frankly, I'm not really looking forward to it. Despite all of the minor annoyances above, I have really enjoyed the summer...as in the heat, the sun exposure, the Summer Olympics(!), everything. Ever since I haven't had any asthma symptoms to speak of, I have been able to not only tolerate, but greatly enjoy, the hot, even muggy weather. That's a first for me. And frankly, I'm already dreading the fall and winter. I think I'll have to get one of those light therapy lamps to tide me over till next summer.
I promise to come back soon to write about our homeschool plans for this coming year with my rising 11th, 8th, and 7th grade students. Should be a crazy busy year.
To the kids:
No, high pitched screaming, even in jest, does not constitute singing.
For some reason, as delusional as it makes me sound, I thought that the choruses of, "Mom he/she keeps bothering me!" would have died down by now. Instead, it's reached a crescendo. What's up with that? For Pete's sake, you're 16, 13, and 12.
And um, how is it even possible that it's more difficult keeping the apartment tidy now, than when you guys were toddlers?
Something's gotta give.
It's like the stars have aligned to make this week unbearably exasperating. And the summer, as in "summer break" is nearly over, too. And that really stinks.
Maybe we've had way too much unscheduled time this summer, and I think that the exhaustion and dis-ease I've been feeling in the past several weeks has made me less diligent at keeping everyone accountable for things. Actually, I'm sure that these are definitely factors. I'd toss them out for extra obligatory outdoor time (read: Mommy alone time), but wonder if that would be construed as a reward. Yes, yes it would. I'm tempted to channel Mr. Bennet.
"...you are never to stir out of doors till you can prove that you have spent ten minutes of every day in a rational manner."
Sigh.
But that would only work with two of them. My middle child has decided that she "doesn't like the sun." I'd have to come up with something else for her. Dishes. Dishes would be perfect.
So yeah, our summer break is soon coming to an end, and frankly, I'm not really looking forward to it. Despite all of the minor annoyances above, I have really enjoyed the summer...as in the heat, the sun exposure, the Summer Olympics(!), everything. Ever since I haven't had any asthma symptoms to speak of, I have been able to not only tolerate, but greatly enjoy, the hot, even muggy weather. That's a first for me. And frankly, I'm already dreading the fall and winter. I think I'll have to get one of those light therapy lamps to tide me over till next summer.
I promise to come back soon to write about our homeschool plans for this coming year with my rising 11th, 8th, and 7th grade students. Should be a crazy busy year.
Friday, July 6, 2012
Back, Just Briefly
No, I haven't abandoned this blog. I've just had some weird health stuff going on, and I think that stress may have contributed to it in one way or another. I just thought I had the flu. My neck and jaw were tight (still are a bit, in fact). I had Intense fatigue, like I've never experienced before. I felt as if I had deadweights on my shoulders. At first I could sleep for 16 hours straight, but then later I had insomnia, with this oppressive heaviness all of the time. While in bed, I felt as if I was being pressed into the mattress, and then came the migraines, dizziness, and vertigo, not to mention the nausea. Just awful. These phantom pains started to turn up...I felt as if parts of my body were sunburned, but they weren't. I held out for two weeks before I succumbed and made an appointment with a doctor. I hesitated, as I haven't exactly had the best of luck finding doctors that listen. Anyway, one doctor's visit turned into five. (And they're still calling me to make follow-up appointments--FAT CHANCE!). I saw a few different practitioners in the office, and everyone had their own guesses as to what was going on with me. My first blood test showed that I was deficient in vitamin d, and that I had "high" cholesterol. A urine sample showed that I apparently had a very high number of white blood cells, so I was first told it was a UTI, which I thought was weird, because I didn't have any symptoms. I was prescribed Cipro, which I wasn't very enthusiastic about, but I was feeling so crappy, that I just agreed to take it. Before starting the antibiotic, I went through another round of follow-up tests. It took a week to get the results back, and it was determined that my hormones were okay, kidney and liver function was okay, and that there hadn't been a UTI after all, so I had taken 6 days of Cipro (500mg, 2x/day) for no reason. I was barely tolerating the antibiotic and it killed my stomach, and led to a whole host of other problems.
All this time, the doctors in this practice were just guessing at what was wrong with me. One thought Lyme Disease, another Fibromyalgia, Chronic Fatigue, or some Auto-immune disease, and yet another thought depression. But these were all guesses. The last doctor I saw sent in a physician assistant with a clipboard questionnaire for depression. Um, I've had depression (well-controlled, by the way!) and this wasn't it. But I'll tell you, the moment this was suggested as a possible cause, I did begin to feel depressed. I felt as if I was being disregarded. And the questionnaire itself was ridiculous. The options for number one were as follows (I had to pick one): (a) I am never depressed. (b) I am depressed most of the time. (c) I am always depressed. (d) My depression is so severe I have lost interest in things I used to enjoy. Seriously? I argued that the questionnaire was flawed, and that the most accurate answer for me would be "I am depressed once in a LONG while." Who isn't? I asked the doctors whether or not all of this could be related to the vitamin D deficiency, and they seemed unsure that such a thing would cause all of the above. And that's when the office phlebotomist shared with me that he had gone through something similar years earlier, and that taking 50,000 IU of D3 each week for a few months, really helped. Once his levels were within normal range, he felt better. He asked how much I had been taking, so I told him I was taking between 2,000 IU and 5,000 IU/day. He told me, off the record, that I'd have to take almost twice that daily to see a difference, so I started to do just that. A quick Google search convinced me that a vitamin D deficiency could in fact cause a whole host of weird symptoms, so I figured there was no harm in trying, and there was no danger of toxicity at those dosages.
The first night, I slept all the night through. The second night, wasn't so great, so it's not like the supplementation is a magic bullet--I have to make sure to get more direct sun exposure as well. This has meant my wearing shorts and short sleeve shirts for the first time since high school, with no sunblock or screens. It'll take some time, but I'm confident that this deficiency was at the core of what was wrong with me. It's funny, too, as I do a lot of supplementation, a la Dr. Linus Pauling, but vitamin D3 wasn't even on my radar. Wishing to accelerate healing, I started researching other stuff to do alongside the D3 supplementation. I found this one discussion about how the Budwig diet's signature recipe (i.e., blending cottage cheese and flax seed oil, with a hand blender, and then topping it with freshly ground flax seeds) has helped more than just people with serious illnesses, like cancer. At least a few people were using it to combat fatigue, so I thought, what the heck, I'll try it. It can't hurt. All I can say is WOW. I wasn't expecting it to work, but it seems to be working very well for me. And it's tasty, too...I blend 4 Tbsp of organic cottage cheese with live cultures, with 2 Tbsp of cold-pressed organic flax seed oil. I add a tsp of raw organic honey, blueberries, and raspberries, then top it with the ground flax seeds. I'm having this 2x/day, and once I'm 100% with my energy levels, I'll go to just 1x/day. It's really neat...this recipe (part of an entire protocol) was something that Dr. Johanna Budwig figured out during her research. Blending the cheese (a sulfur protein) and the oil together, makes it water soluble, and therefore more easily absorbed by the body. I've used flax oil as an anti-inflammatory for years to treat my allergies, but never had this effect using it alone. Omega 3's are good for combatting fatigue as well. There are loads of testimonials from people with all sorts of ailments using this, and seeing the benefit. Many people have even reported that their tumors have shrunk or disappeared altogether. Crazy.
Anyway, I just wanted to drop by with an update, and to share in case any of you are feeling especially run-down. It's worth it to get your D levels checked. I was told that normal ranges are between 30 - 100. I was 20. It's weird though, because I've heard of people who have even lower levels than that, and they didn't seem to have as great a level of fatigue as I did, but perhaps it's all relative. As mentioned above, I had been stressed as well, so that couldn't have helped.
If you are fatigued and you try the supplementation or the Flax seed oil and cottage cheese, let me know if it makes a difference for you!
All this time, the doctors in this practice were just guessing at what was wrong with me. One thought Lyme Disease, another Fibromyalgia, Chronic Fatigue, or some Auto-immune disease, and yet another thought depression. But these were all guesses. The last doctor I saw sent in a physician assistant with a clipboard questionnaire for depression. Um, I've had depression (well-controlled, by the way!) and this wasn't it. But I'll tell you, the moment this was suggested as a possible cause, I did begin to feel depressed. I felt as if I was being disregarded. And the questionnaire itself was ridiculous. The options for number one were as follows (I had to pick one): (a) I am never depressed. (b) I am depressed most of the time. (c) I am always depressed. (d) My depression is so severe I have lost interest in things I used to enjoy. Seriously? I argued that the questionnaire was flawed, and that the most accurate answer for me would be "I am depressed once in a LONG while." Who isn't? I asked the doctors whether or not all of this could be related to the vitamin D deficiency, and they seemed unsure that such a thing would cause all of the above. And that's when the office phlebotomist shared with me that he had gone through something similar years earlier, and that taking 50,000 IU of D3 each week for a few months, really helped. Once his levels were within normal range, he felt better. He asked how much I had been taking, so I told him I was taking between 2,000 IU and 5,000 IU/day. He told me, off the record, that I'd have to take almost twice that daily to see a difference, so I started to do just that. A quick Google search convinced me that a vitamin D deficiency could in fact cause a whole host of weird symptoms, so I figured there was no harm in trying, and there was no danger of toxicity at those dosages.
The first night, I slept all the night through. The second night, wasn't so great, so it's not like the supplementation is a magic bullet--I have to make sure to get more direct sun exposure as well. This has meant my wearing shorts and short sleeve shirts for the first time since high school, with no sunblock or screens. It'll take some time, but I'm confident that this deficiency was at the core of what was wrong with me. It's funny, too, as I do a lot of supplementation, a la Dr. Linus Pauling, but vitamin D3 wasn't even on my radar. Wishing to accelerate healing, I started researching other stuff to do alongside the D3 supplementation. I found this one discussion about how the Budwig diet's signature recipe (i.e., blending cottage cheese and flax seed oil, with a hand blender, and then topping it with freshly ground flax seeds) has helped more than just people with serious illnesses, like cancer. At least a few people were using it to combat fatigue, so I thought, what the heck, I'll try it. It can't hurt. All I can say is WOW. I wasn't expecting it to work, but it seems to be working very well for me. And it's tasty, too...I blend 4 Tbsp of organic cottage cheese with live cultures, with 2 Tbsp of cold-pressed organic flax seed oil. I add a tsp of raw organic honey, blueberries, and raspberries, then top it with the ground flax seeds. I'm having this 2x/day, and once I'm 100% with my energy levels, I'll go to just 1x/day. It's really neat...this recipe (part of an entire protocol) was something that Dr. Johanna Budwig figured out during her research. Blending the cheese (a sulfur protein) and the oil together, makes it water soluble, and therefore more easily absorbed by the body. I've used flax oil as an anti-inflammatory for years to treat my allergies, but never had this effect using it alone. Omega 3's are good for combatting fatigue as well. There are loads of testimonials from people with all sorts of ailments using this, and seeing the benefit. Many people have even reported that their tumors have shrunk or disappeared altogether. Crazy.
Anyway, I just wanted to drop by with an update, and to share in case any of you are feeling especially run-down. It's worth it to get your D levels checked. I was told that normal ranges are between 30 - 100. I was 20. It's weird though, because I've heard of people who have even lower levels than that, and they didn't seem to have as great a level of fatigue as I did, but perhaps it's all relative. As mentioned above, I had been stressed as well, so that couldn't have helped.
If you are fatigued and you try the supplementation or the Flax seed oil and cottage cheese, let me know if it makes a difference for you!
Monday, May 21, 2012
So We Went to See The Avengers…
…and I didn’t like it.
No, I’m not a film snob. My proof? I enjoyed Nacho Libre and
have watched it at least a dozen times. Really.
I was disappointed with The Avengers despite already being predisposed
to liking it. For starters, I tend to enjoy just about anything Joss Whedon
touches, my favorite being his Firefly series and then his subsequent Serenity
film. And lest it be assumed, I’m also not averse to superhero flicks. I didn’t
watch all of the individual films leading up to it, but I did watch a few. Iron
Man (the first one) and Captain America were awesome. Thor I skipped, because
frankly, Norse mythological figures don’t seem to translate well on film. Okay,
the truth is that I haven’t seen many film depictions of Thor and Loki, and to
be fair, the films depicting them that I have watched have had them visiting
modern day America, and that automatically introduces the cheese factor (The
Son of the Mask is one such atrocity). Frankly, I think these gods fare better
in Asgaard and should stay there. And yes, I know, I know…these characters were
a Marvel interpretation of these figures, but still. I guess this is where I
admit that I have never been a comics fangirl. I did enjoy reading a few of the
Archie comics as a kid, but that’s the extent of it. Oh, and I didn’t see a
single trailer for The Avengers, nor did I read a single review, for fear that
it would sabotage my film-going experience. I wanted to go in as fresh as
possible, and without ridiculously high expectations.
So what didn’t I like about it?
Honestly, I felt it dragged. Most of the film involved just
gathering all of the Avengers together.
I still don’t like Samuel L. Jackson as Nick Fury. Didn’t
like him much as Mace Windu either come to think of it.
Wait, were there aliens in this movie? I was all excited
about the aliens, but then there weren’t any aliens, i.e., until the very end. I
realize that there wasn’t time to go into the backstory here on the Chitauri
(this particular race of aliens), but that didn’t really matter to me. In the
film, they kind of reminded me of the army of clone troopers in Attack of the
Clones, providing a legion of paper targets for our superheroes to crush. For
the record, I really disliked the Star Wars prequels.
The problem with getting this many characters together in
one film is that you don’t have much time for character development.
Ultimately, I felt that there wasn’t enough heart, and this bothered me most of
all.
Loki. ‘Nuff said. Too much camp. I enjoy camp. Sometimes.
But I like my baddies to be bad, and menacing. Three-dimensional baddies are
best. Loki was just plain silly.
Thor. Every time he was on the screen, I kept thinking
“Fabio” and his “I can’t believe it’s not butter,” line. Yeah, that was kind of
a bummer.
Dialogue that often felt like a formulaic series of “Insert
sarcastic quips here.” Tony Stark
had the best lines, obviously, but I was expecting them, and they fell short.
Thankfully, the rest of the audience in the showing I attended wasn’t as jaded
as I was and laughed heartily and often. Good for them. Really.
The Tesseract. What? Another cube? Is this Transformers or
something? I kid, I kid! Actually, I’m aware that this is like the Cosmic Cube
and that this is the sort of powerful object that played a part in the comics.
And oddly enough, it didn’t bother me at all in Captain America. Go figure. I
guess the connection I felt with the story in that instance, kept me from
dwelling on it too much. I guess this may be a silly critique, seeing as I knew
it would somehow factor into this film, but again, the story at large didn’t
capture my interest this time around, and I was just plain uninterested in the
darn thing.
The plot. I didn’t care for or understand Loki’s motivation,
and the conflict resolution just wasn’t believable. I mean, it’s fantasy, yes,
but even in the world of the movie, I was left unconvinced.
The superheroes. On their own, they’re great. I couldn’t help but feel that they lost so much of their, um, uniqueness (?), working as a team.
The Hulk in particular. I was really looking forward to him.
And I liked him. I really did. BUT, he didn’t grow larger the angrier he got.
And then all of sudden, later in the movie, it seemed like he could control his
anger perfectly well, when just earlier in the film he lost it big time on
Scarlett Johansson’s Black Widow.
There’s more that I didn’t like, but I’ll spare you. Perhaps
if I was an avid Avengers comics reader I may have applauded along with the
rest of the people at my screening. I am not beyond thinking that perhaps I’m
missing something big here. Perhaps I do have to have more of a familiarity
with the comics to enjoy this film. Really, the amount of hype and love being
strewn about the net with regard to this movie is unreal. But hey, I’m happy
for them. There’s nothing worse than alienating diehard fans. Joss Whedon
appears to have given the mega-fans exactly what they wanted. I’m obviously in
the minority here.
All that said, there were a few bright spots for me.
Granted, very few. And here they are:
Mark Ruffalo. I enjoyed him as Bruce Banner. He was
infinitely better than Bana and Norton. Infinitely. He was subdued, and funny.
Actually, I thought that of all of the superheroes, he was the most likeable.
Jeremy Renner. Okay, I may just like him, period. And I
can’t say that I hated him as Hawkeye. In fact, it was quite the opposite. I
sort of like the lonely brooder skilled type of superhero. It’s funny though,
because after the film, my kids mentioned him as the guy that shot arrows.
There wasn’t much time spent on him as superhero Hawkeye, but rather, evil
minion Hawkeye. Really, he was kind of the forgotten hero here. Not much screen
time, and no story building for him. BUT, I don’t mean to go off on a negative
tangent again. I’m just lamenting the fact that there wasn’t more of him. The
bits that were in there, I enjoyed though.
Oh, and I liked seeing the Black Widow kicking butt. I love
it when women can hold their own.
Tuesday, May 15, 2012
"Shaolin Family" Experiment Update, Take One
Sheesh! I've been MIA, and I'm sorry. Lots of stuff going on in my head and in my life. Nothing major, but definitely time consuming. Even my precious Korean dramas have taken a back seat. And if that doesn't tell you something, nothing will.
This whole "Shaolin family" experiment (in reference to a previous post in which I shared my lofty goals on how we were to address the needs of our bodies, minds, and spirits) has been tough, yet unbelievably rewarding. Finding time for everything is challenging, and we haven't stuck to it as closely as I would have liked. More often than not, it's the physical/body stuff that gets tossed to the wayside. We really need to work on that. That said, our prayer life is AWESOME. We went from a few prayers said at bedtime and before meals, to (recently) starting Morning and Evening prayer (Lauds and Vespers) using the Shorter Christian Prayer book, followed by a Morning Offering, Trinity Prayer, and Guardian Angel prayer. At noon we say the Angelus, at 3:00 p.m. the Divine Mercy Chaplet, and then we recite the rosary in the evening (as well as Vespers as mentioned before). That sounds like a lot, but it's really been such a great change for us. It has introduced a steady rhythm to our days, one that we had been lacking. And in addition to that, it has also given us all a sense of calm. The peaceful reflection, particularly in the morning, just feels right. We feel more capable of managing whatever the day brings with it. It's kind of hard to put it into words, but my soon-to-be 16 year old said, "Mom, this feels great," and I agree with her.
In addition to the above, my plans for personal spiritual enrichment have also included making adoration once per month, and finding time for more spiritual reading. We made it to adoration on the first Friday of the month, and I hope that this remains consistent. The spiritual reading however, hasn't actually happened yet (aside from the Divine Office that is). Again, I think it's more of a time management issue.
As mentioned above, my plans for how to address the physical/body bits of this whole undertaking are sorely lacking. I've determined that perhaps I was being too ambitious. Understatement alert! Rather than fit it ALL in, i.e., conditioning, tai chi, forms, weight training, etc., I'd do best to just choose one or two on which to focus each day. Being up early for Lauds really helps with the morning alertness factor, and makes me more likely to just "do it already." I also figured that I could give us some days "off" on kung fu class days. Okay, so technically, those really aren't off days at all since we'll be in class later anyway.
As for the mind bit of this lofty plan, things are moving along nicely. Another positive that has come out of this is that I'm realizing just how much time it takes us to do things. Some of those realizations have been positive, others haven't been exactly positive, but rather, enlightening. For instance, I've found that my son is lagging considerably behind his sisters when it comes to written work. He composes well, it's just the physical act of writing that is arduous for him. I can't decide if it's a perfectionist trait, or if he just finds it genuinely difficult. I always knew that this was an issue, but I didn't realize just how much of an issue, or how time consuming a problem it was until now. It doesn't appear to be dysgraphia either. He doesn't reverse his letters, and he's generally neat, with all of his letters being of consistent size. He's also a decent speller, with a broad vocabulary. I find that when he's composing something and writing it as he goes along, he is faster than when asked to recopy what he's written, as in the case of writing a final draft. We'll be taking him in to get his vision checked as well, in case it's a tracking problem, or just that he may need vision correction, and in the meantime, I'm checking online for ideas on how to address this issue (i.e., what I can do here, or where I should go for help with this). What's weird is that he doesn't seem to have a fine motor skill problem either. He's a tinkerer, and he puts models together with small pieces, and he's able to make the tiniest paper airplanes known to man. Seriously! He also handles his utensils properly, even chopsticks. Frankly, I'm confused by all of this. This week, we'll probably be focusing on handwriting, and I just may make it into a game or something as a motivator.
There's more to share, but I'll save it for another post and another day. ;-)
This whole "Shaolin family" experiment (in reference to a previous post in which I shared my lofty goals on how we were to address the needs of our bodies, minds, and spirits) has been tough, yet unbelievably rewarding. Finding time for everything is challenging, and we haven't stuck to it as closely as I would have liked. More often than not, it's the physical/body stuff that gets tossed to the wayside. We really need to work on that. That said, our prayer life is AWESOME. We went from a few prayers said at bedtime and before meals, to (recently) starting Morning and Evening prayer (Lauds and Vespers) using the Shorter Christian Prayer book, followed by a Morning Offering, Trinity Prayer, and Guardian Angel prayer. At noon we say the Angelus, at 3:00 p.m. the Divine Mercy Chaplet, and then we recite the rosary in the evening (as well as Vespers as mentioned before). That sounds like a lot, but it's really been such a great change for us. It has introduced a steady rhythm to our days, one that we had been lacking. And in addition to that, it has also given us all a sense of calm. The peaceful reflection, particularly in the morning, just feels right. We feel more capable of managing whatever the day brings with it. It's kind of hard to put it into words, but my soon-to-be 16 year old said, "Mom, this feels great," and I agree with her.
In addition to the above, my plans for personal spiritual enrichment have also included making adoration once per month, and finding time for more spiritual reading. We made it to adoration on the first Friday of the month, and I hope that this remains consistent. The spiritual reading however, hasn't actually happened yet (aside from the Divine Office that is). Again, I think it's more of a time management issue.
As mentioned above, my plans for how to address the physical/body bits of this whole undertaking are sorely lacking. I've determined that perhaps I was being too ambitious. Understatement alert! Rather than fit it ALL in, i.e., conditioning, tai chi, forms, weight training, etc., I'd do best to just choose one or two on which to focus each day. Being up early for Lauds really helps with the morning alertness factor, and makes me more likely to just "do it already." I also figured that I could give us some days "off" on kung fu class days. Okay, so technically, those really aren't off days at all since we'll be in class later anyway.
As for the mind bit of this lofty plan, things are moving along nicely. Another positive that has come out of this is that I'm realizing just how much time it takes us to do things. Some of those realizations have been positive, others haven't been exactly positive, but rather, enlightening. For instance, I've found that my son is lagging considerably behind his sisters when it comes to written work. He composes well, it's just the physical act of writing that is arduous for him. I can't decide if it's a perfectionist trait, or if he just finds it genuinely difficult. I always knew that this was an issue, but I didn't realize just how much of an issue, or how time consuming a problem it was until now. It doesn't appear to be dysgraphia either. He doesn't reverse his letters, and he's generally neat, with all of his letters being of consistent size. He's also a decent speller, with a broad vocabulary. I find that when he's composing something and writing it as he goes along, he is faster than when asked to recopy what he's written, as in the case of writing a final draft. We'll be taking him in to get his vision checked as well, in case it's a tracking problem, or just that he may need vision correction, and in the meantime, I'm checking online for ideas on how to address this issue (i.e., what I can do here, or where I should go for help with this). What's weird is that he doesn't seem to have a fine motor skill problem either. He's a tinkerer, and he puts models together with small pieces, and he's able to make the tiniest paper airplanes known to man. Seriously! He also handles his utensils properly, even chopsticks. Frankly, I'm confused by all of this. This week, we'll probably be focusing on handwriting, and I just may make it into a game or something as a motivator.
There's more to share, but I'll save it for another post and another day. ;-)
Monday, April 23, 2012
High School, Past and Present
It’s homeschool curriculum sorting and planning time again.
Every year, while perusing catalogs, checking in on message boards, referencing
online scope and sequence guidelines, as well as state standards to be met, I’m
struck with a huge realization: In my own experience of public and parochial
school education, all of those guidelines and standards were seldom met.
If I were to list the college preparatory classes I took
while in high school, it would surely sound impressive. In four years of high
school, I took the following mathematics courses: Algebra I, Geometry, Algebra
II, Trigonometry, and Calculus. I took the following science courses: Biology,
Chemistry, Anatomy & Physiology/Marine Biology (two semesters of one, followed
by two semesters of the other), and Physics. That sounds like a lot of math and
science, doesn’t it? And yet, it was a shallow education, and most of my teachers
were either ill-equipped to help us, or just so frustrated that they had given
up years earlier. Well, with one exception—my Biology teacher, who also taught
the combination course of Anatomy & Physiology/Marine Biology, was truly a
gem. She was the teacher who stared us down, dumb-founded, when she learned
that as freshmen, we had never in our lives had a single geography lesson, and
not one of us could name all of the continents. She was the teacher who really
took her job seriously, and set out, as much as was possible, to fill in major
gaps in understanding, regardless of the subject.
My school was apparently not well funded. We didn’t have
textbooks for any of the sciences or for history. We did however, have
textbooks for foreign languages and math. These textbooks were old and worn,
not a problem in and of itself, but I remember receiving a book that had
belonged to one of my sisters nine or ten years earlier, and in the inside
front cover, where kids used to list the condition of the book, she had listed
it as having been in fair condition. Ten years of food spills, being tossed
into lockers, and dropped on the floor, or otherwise abused, had rendered the
condition of my copy as incredibly poor. Again, this was not a huge problem. I
mean, at least I had a book. But as mentioned, I didn’t have textbooks for the
sciences or for history. As a matter of fact, I had never had a history
textbook in my life (i.e., up until college). Even in the seventh grade when I
had a super enthusiastic history buff for a teacher, we didn’t have books. But
that didn’t seem to make a difference. I learned more history in his class than
I ever had.
Speaking of history, our state requires three social studies
classes for high school graduation. Two of these must be U.S. History I and II.
My own experience with high school history was a joke. The football coach taught
our class by reading out of the only copy of the history book on hand. The text
didn’t lend itself well for this and was so dry, that most of us would just
zone out by paragraph four. From time to time, he’d pass out dittos for
reference. And that was it. U.S. History II was an even bigger joke. This was
one of the teachers who had just given up. He sat at his desk, with a newspaper
in hand, and he’d take attendance. That was it, and I’m not even joking. It was
quite literally a free study hall period. If you had attended most of the
classes, you’d be exempt from the final. I was exempt. He went over what was to
be on the final in one day, and that was to 1. List the presidents in order,
and 2. List the presidents that were assassinated.
The sciences weren’t as bad. I do remember doing some
science, although conceptually my understanding was limited, but was shocked
later to learn that there should have been some math involved, particularly
when studying Chemistry and Physics. I asked my husband if he remembered
Algebra or Calculus based sciences, and he said that he didn’t either, so I’m
sure my experience is not unique.
My math experience was horrendous. Algebra I was intuitive
enough for me to figure things out on my own. Geometry wasn’t as easy for me. I
don’t remember anything about my Trigonometry experience. Algebra II was
confusing, and Calculus was impossible. My poor teacher was at a complete loss
as to how to help me. When he’d complete writing out the solution to a problem
on the board, I’d always say, “I don’t get it.” So he’d erase the entire thing
and start all over again. But I still didn’t get it. And there was no Internet
to come to the rescue. Obviously, there was some major foundational stuff I was
missing. I knew I wasn’t uneducable, and yet I was struggling so much. At one
point, after getting back countless calculus tests littered with question
marks, the teacher asked to have a student-teacher conference. No
parent-teacher conference was suggested, as by then, my Dad had already passed
away, and my Mom didn’t understand English anyway. In any case, the teacher
asked me,
“Patty, are you planning to go into any of the math or
science fields?”
By the time he asked this question, I was sufficiently
scared away by this idea, not to mention that I had had my heart set on
studying English since the time I was nine years old. My reply of, “No,” seemed
to ease his mind. He told me that he didn’t want to see my grade point average
suffer, considering I was acing every other class, so he decided to pass me for
this reason. And so I passed, but not really. I still feel awful about that. On
the one hand, I’m glad I managed to look good on paper, but on the other hand,
it just felt rotten to feel like I had just gotten a free pass. Calculus has
been the thorn in my side ever since, but I am determined to figure it out,
especially now that I’ve had the opportunity to relearn math from scratch. I
figure that I should have covered all of the foundational stuff this time
around. I hope?
Now, what I’m not mentioning in all of the above is that in
addition to all of the issues discussed here, there were oh so many other
things we had to deal with as students at this school, including, but not
limited to, a whole host of inappropriate student-teacher relationships. At
times it really felt as if the motivation to establish these “relationships”
trumped the motivation to educate any of us. And I’d be lying if I said that
this sort of stuff didn’t contribute at least in part to our decision to
homeschool our children. It wasn’t THE reason, but it certainly crossed
my mind from time to time.
As for high school today, I can’t tell for sure if or how
things have changed. I do think that parents now wouldn’t tolerate a complete
lack of textbooks, and generally, I think that parents are more prone to jump
in and help their kids when they’re stuck. I keep hearing accounts of parents
stating that their kids’ school projects turn out to be school projects for the
parents. I don’t remember this ever being the case when I was a kid, but I
don’t remember having a very project-heavy education either. My daughter has
mentioned that in speaking to friends, she has noted that a lot of their
education has been “excerpted.” When I asked her to elaborate, she mentioned that
while her friends’ school reading lists sounded fairly impressive, that further
discussion illuminated the fact that what they had read were excerpts of the
literature, rather than complete novels, and that text books are often skimmed.
This wasn’t altogether surprising for me, because I remember that sort of stuff
happening when I was in school as well. But it’s easy to forget sometimes,
particularly when you’re the one in charge of your child’s education. It’s very
easy to set the bar way up high, and then feel like a failure when you haven’t
accomplished every single thing you’ve set out to accomplish. And I don’t want
to be the parent that says, “Well, they’re not doing as much in school anyway…”
because well, I don’t really know what they’re doing, and part of me doesn’t
really care. I didn’t set out to home educate my children just so that I could
reproduce exactly what others were doing. And yet year after year, I find
myself referencing guidelines, just to feel safe and secure that I’ve complied
at least enough for us to have achieved equivalency…at least on paper. I know
that what’s on paper however, is seldom far from the truth, and it’s hard to
quantify my kids’ education in so shallow a manner. And to be fair, I don’t
think other-schooled kids’ educations can be quantified this way either. It
does make it convenient for the paper pushers though.
Friday, April 13, 2012
Easter Week
It’s the Friday of Easter week and all’s well. I had thought of just giving the kids off through Wednesday, until my Mom scolded me for being too unfair. Of course, the truth is that they get loads of time off anyway, even despite our tendency to work throughout the summer. But my Mom won out. I figured it wouldn’t hurt to have an extended break after all, and I’m glad we did because it’s been great.
The kids are actually all passed out again. Yes, it’s the afternoon. It’s what happens when I’m lax about bedtimes, especially when we’re off from school. I did manage to peel them all out of bed by 7:00 a.m. this morning for confession though, and they did manage to stay up until after lunch, so I’m not feeling too guilty about it. They’ll have to go to sleep at a decent time tonight though, especially as we have a long Kung Fu day tomorrow, and an early start on Sunday with CCD followed by mass. By Sunday night, their circadian rhythm should be back to normal. I hope.
In any case, I was disappointed I didn’t get to post anything about our Holy Week and Easter. In short, it was nice. Holy Week is my favorite time of year. Our Italian parish loves its processions, and I love them, too. I had never been involved in any until we became parishioners there. Easter vigil was beautiful as well, and Easter Sunday was nice and low-key, which is just what we wanted. I spent the morning on cooking duty, designated potato-peeling duty to my husband, and delegated some of the tidying up to the kids. It’s so nice when everyone pitches in. Everything gets done in a fraction of the time.
I forgot to take pictures of the kids (seriously, what kind of mother am I?) and most of the meal, but I did somehow remember to shoot the ham. And what a horrible picture it is! I promise you all, it tasted a lot better than it looked. Note to self: Invest in a good camera. That, or better lighting. Both would be best.
Afterwards we transported the meal, a much smaller one than the over-ambitious-on-Patty-terms one I prepared last year to my Mom’s apartment. Less dishes, made transporting easier. I did have to make a mental note that I should really invest in some transport-friendly food containers before the next big holiday. Either that, or I should plan to arrive at my Mom’s place early in the morning and just cook everything there. The problem with doing that is that I’d have to put on a whole Vaudevillian song and dance routine to coax everyone out of the house on time, and of course, then I’d probably have a heckuva time trying to keep my mother from chipping in and helping prepare the meal. She’d definitely try to do too much. She’s been unwell, and the best way to ensure that she takes it easy, is for me to just make everything here.
Hoping all of you are having a wonderful Easter holiday! It ain’t over, ‘till it’s over!
Oh, and I’ll leave you all with the sung Divine Mercy Chaplet just in time for Divine Mercy Sunday. This is my favorite version.
The kids are actually all passed out again. Yes, it’s the afternoon. It’s what happens when I’m lax about bedtimes, especially when we’re off from school. I did manage to peel them all out of bed by 7:00 a.m. this morning for confession though, and they did manage to stay up until after lunch, so I’m not feeling too guilty about it. They’ll have to go to sleep at a decent time tonight though, especially as we have a long Kung Fu day tomorrow, and an early start on Sunday with CCD followed by mass. By Sunday night, their circadian rhythm should be back to normal. I hope.
In any case, I was disappointed I didn’t get to post anything about our Holy Week and Easter. In short, it was nice. Holy Week is my favorite time of year. Our Italian parish loves its processions, and I love them, too. I had never been involved in any until we became parishioners there. Easter vigil was beautiful as well, and Easter Sunday was nice and low-key, which is just what we wanted. I spent the morning on cooking duty, designated potato-peeling duty to my husband, and delegated some of the tidying up to the kids. It’s so nice when everyone pitches in. Everything gets done in a fraction of the time.
I forgot to take pictures of the kids (seriously, what kind of mother am I?) and most of the meal, but I did somehow remember to shoot the ham. And what a horrible picture it is! I promise you all, it tasted a lot better than it looked. Note to self: Invest in a good camera. That, or better lighting. Both would be best.
Afterwards we transported the meal, a much smaller one than the over-ambitious-on-Patty-terms one I prepared last year to my Mom’s apartment. Less dishes, made transporting easier. I did have to make a mental note that I should really invest in some transport-friendly food containers before the next big holiday. Either that, or I should plan to arrive at my Mom’s place early in the morning and just cook everything there. The problem with doing that is that I’d have to put on a whole Vaudevillian song and dance routine to coax everyone out of the house on time, and of course, then I’d probably have a heckuva time trying to keep my mother from chipping in and helping prepare the meal. She’d definitely try to do too much. She’s been unwell, and the best way to ensure that she takes it easy, is for me to just make everything here.
Hoping all of you are having a wonderful Easter holiday! It ain’t over, ‘till it’s over!
Oh, and I’ll leave you all with the sung Divine Mercy Chaplet just in time for Divine Mercy Sunday. This is my favorite version.
Thursday, March 29, 2012
Feeling Gushy
My son was feeling under the weather on Tuesday night, and then woke up with a cold yesterday morning. Now the girls seem to be following suit. No one seemed alert and focused enough to get much done for school, so I gave in and gave them some time off. Within minutes, they were all passed out, and now here I am, the only one up. Sleepy, but up, and sipping some Yerba mate. Sitting at the computer on a quiet afternoon, has inevitably led to some reflection.
I tend to be emotionally reserved in public, and I’m not the sort to go on about how awesome my kids are (at least not regularly), or how much I love them, but there’s just something about these quiet moments that get me all sentimental and gushy. I cannot claim to even fathom why God chose to bless us with such great kids, except that maybe He wanted to teach me a lesson. I never considered myself particularly maternal. I liked kids in general, and of course I loved my niece and nephews, but I was worried that wasn't enough to qualify myself as maternal. When I got pregnant with E, I immediately worried that my “lukewarmness” would make me poorly suited to parent. Could I even love my child enough? Seriously, these were the sorts of things I worried about. Shortly after E’s birth, I soon found that despite what I regarded as “lukewarmness,” I surely did manage to love her, albeit in almost a suffocating way. My love for her was all jumbled up with fear and paranoia should anything ever happen to her. It never occurred to me that that would happen. Never in my wildest dreams did I sit and reflect on how worry would consume my life, as it did just moments after her birth. I had always been a “live and let live” sort of person, feeling that people had a right to their own decisions, and I was comfortable with that. Yet there I was, having to make huge decisions for someone else, and without her consent. At times I felt crippled by doubt. Would she come to hate me for the choices I made on her behalf? After a while, we fell into a routine, and she gradually taught me to parent. And just when we had gotten into a groove, her sister came along. And she was and continues to be a whole new ball of wax. What was right for E, was seldom right for S. And so I continued to learn, taking a few missteps here and there. Then came F, my only son. Another learning curve.
It’s been a few years, and I still worry sometimes whether I’m a good enough Mom. But despite my misgivings, the lesson I have learned is this: I didn’t have to be a perfect parent to produce great kids. What a relief to know that good, no great, can come out of even what’s flawed! And permit me to gush here. I have GREAT kids. They’re kind, polite, thoughtful, curious, talented, empathetic, loving, funny, and always interesting. They greet me every morning with a warm smile and a hug, and nearly every night they gather around me to just “chat some more” before bed. Things could be not so rosy sometimes, but one hug from them makes all of the ugly stuff disappear. Yes, really. And no, of course they’re not immune to having bad days, but thankfully these are fleeting. I’m very grateful, and very blessed.
I may not say it often enough for all to hear, but I love you, E, S, and F! To the moon and back, and then some.
I tend to be emotionally reserved in public, and I’m not the sort to go on about how awesome my kids are (at least not regularly), or how much I love them, but there’s just something about these quiet moments that get me all sentimental and gushy. I cannot claim to even fathom why God chose to bless us with such great kids, except that maybe He wanted to teach me a lesson. I never considered myself particularly maternal. I liked kids in general, and of course I loved my niece and nephews, but I was worried that wasn't enough to qualify myself as maternal. When I got pregnant with E, I immediately worried that my “lukewarmness” would make me poorly suited to parent. Could I even love my child enough? Seriously, these were the sorts of things I worried about. Shortly after E’s birth, I soon found that despite what I regarded as “lukewarmness,” I surely did manage to love her, albeit in almost a suffocating way. My love for her was all jumbled up with fear and paranoia should anything ever happen to her. It never occurred to me that that would happen. Never in my wildest dreams did I sit and reflect on how worry would consume my life, as it did just moments after her birth. I had always been a “live and let live” sort of person, feeling that people had a right to their own decisions, and I was comfortable with that. Yet there I was, having to make huge decisions for someone else, and without her consent. At times I felt crippled by doubt. Would she come to hate me for the choices I made on her behalf? After a while, we fell into a routine, and she gradually taught me to parent. And just when we had gotten into a groove, her sister came along. And she was and continues to be a whole new ball of wax. What was right for E, was seldom right for S. And so I continued to learn, taking a few missteps here and there. Then came F, my only son. Another learning curve.
It’s been a few years, and I still worry sometimes whether I’m a good enough Mom. But despite my misgivings, the lesson I have learned is this: I didn’t have to be a perfect parent to produce great kids. What a relief to know that good, no great, can come out of even what’s flawed! And permit me to gush here. I have GREAT kids. They’re kind, polite, thoughtful, curious, talented, empathetic, loving, funny, and always interesting. They greet me every morning with a warm smile and a hug, and nearly every night they gather around me to just “chat some more” before bed. Things could be not so rosy sometimes, but one hug from them makes all of the ugly stuff disappear. Yes, really. And no, of course they’re not immune to having bad days, but thankfully these are fleeting. I’m very grateful, and very blessed.
I may not say it often enough for all to hear, but I love you, E, S, and F! To the moon and back, and then some.
Friday, March 16, 2012
Allowing Kids to Struggle
Recently, a quote attributed to Robert Heinlein has been making the rounds on Facebook.
“Do not handicap your children by making their lives easy.” ~Robert A. Heinlein
I immediately agreed with the sentiment, and passed it along, sharing it with my friends. Unsurprisingly, several moms seemed to appreciate those words as well.
When I read the quote, I took it as meaning that it is okay to step back—in fact, that we should step back, and allow our children to struggle through things. That such a thing would help them develop feelings of self-worth and would make them better equipped to handle the struggles they would likely encounter in “real life.” I believed that it meant that by doing so, children would become more resilient and capable adults. When I considered “struggles,” I thought more about life skills, like the ability to keep house, make a meal, do laundry, handle interpersonal conflicts, tie their own shoes, and sort out their own problems (within reason).
It hadn’t occurred to me that others would use this quote to justify spanking, or as proof positive that children today have an elevated sense of entitlement. I noticed how some discussions sparked by this quote would degenerate into children bash fests, claiming that kids today don’t know how easy they have it. That kids today feel they are entitled to things like designer clothes and the latest greatest technology. I admit to being shocked by this interpretation because come on, really? Am I to believe that living without a cell phone or a Juicy Couture shirt is a struggle, or a sacrifice? If a child feels that such a thing is a necessity, it’s because, and I’m going out on a limb here, the parents have probably given in to their every whim before, and hence they’ve gotten used to getting all they’ve ever wanted from the get go.
But please, living without material things is hardly a struggle, or a sacrifice. One can argue that living without such things can be inconvenient, but it is not an inconvenience of monumental proportions. What is a struggle is learning right from wrong, making mistakes and learning to deal with the consequences, going without not just what you desire, but at times even what you need. Struggling is not knowing what to do, but having the wherewithal to persist, amidst repeated failures and even the fear of embarrassment.
It always bothers me when children are viewed as entitled brats. If they are, it is seldom their fault. But to judge them across the board bugs me in a huge way. Children are some of the most empathetic, unselfish people I know. They are also among the least jaded and the most humble. They are capable of identifying injustice better than many adults out there, and often have a wonderful positive outlook as to how these injustices can be remedied.
Stepping off my soapbox now.
“Do not handicap your children by making their lives easy.” ~Robert A. Heinlein
I immediately agreed with the sentiment, and passed it along, sharing it with my friends. Unsurprisingly, several moms seemed to appreciate those words as well.
When I read the quote, I took it as meaning that it is okay to step back—in fact, that we should step back, and allow our children to struggle through things. That such a thing would help them develop feelings of self-worth and would make them better equipped to handle the struggles they would likely encounter in “real life.” I believed that it meant that by doing so, children would become more resilient and capable adults. When I considered “struggles,” I thought more about life skills, like the ability to keep house, make a meal, do laundry, handle interpersonal conflicts, tie their own shoes, and sort out their own problems (within reason).
It hadn’t occurred to me that others would use this quote to justify spanking, or as proof positive that children today have an elevated sense of entitlement. I noticed how some discussions sparked by this quote would degenerate into children bash fests, claiming that kids today don’t know how easy they have it. That kids today feel they are entitled to things like designer clothes and the latest greatest technology. I admit to being shocked by this interpretation because come on, really? Am I to believe that living without a cell phone or a Juicy Couture shirt is a struggle, or a sacrifice? If a child feels that such a thing is a necessity, it’s because, and I’m going out on a limb here, the parents have probably given in to their every whim before, and hence they’ve gotten used to getting all they’ve ever wanted from the get go.
But please, living without material things is hardly a struggle, or a sacrifice. One can argue that living without such things can be inconvenient, but it is not an inconvenience of monumental proportions. What is a struggle is learning right from wrong, making mistakes and learning to deal with the consequences, going without not just what you desire, but at times even what you need. Struggling is not knowing what to do, but having the wherewithal to persist, amidst repeated failures and even the fear of embarrassment.
It always bothers me when children are viewed as entitled brats. If they are, it is seldom their fault. But to judge them across the board bugs me in a huge way. Children are some of the most empathetic, unselfish people I know. They are also among the least jaded and the most humble. They are capable of identifying injustice better than many adults out there, and often have a wonderful positive outlook as to how these injustices can be remedied.
Stepping off my soapbox now.
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
The Wannabe Shaolin Family
It’s not unlike me to get all carried away with making big plans. Often the instigating factor is a cool news article, a message board discussion, or a Youtube video. One time I saw something about making your own soap. That’s not a huge deal, right? But within minutes, it wasn’t just a bar of soap I was envisioning. I was envisioning my own line of soaps. Then there was the time I wanted to be a polyglot after watching videos of Tim Ferriss speaking about a half dozen languages. This is me we’re talking about here, so of course I zeroed in on the most difficult language ever. I watched one video lesson for Mandarin, and got so anxious over the enormity of learning such a difficult language, that I abandoned the idea. I’d still love to learn Mandarin, just not right now. We are already learning Greek, Latin, and Korean in our homeschool, but those don’t inspire nearly as much anxiety in me as Mandarin does. At least they’re all phonetic. And then there was that time when I joined Flylady’s housekeeping email list, only to burn out by day two. I haven’t entirely abandoned Flylady though. I just found her book much less anxiety inducing than all of those emails I was receiving.
Now lest it be assumed that I have absolutely no stick-to-it-tiveness, that’s not the case either. I do stick with things that matter…like the homeschooling, which I’ve been committed to for eleven years. For a lot of other things however, I think I’m part magpie, getting perpetually distracted by anything shiny. Whether this new plan we’re envisioning really matters enough to me, and to us as a family, or whether it is just another shiny thing to distract us, is still to be determined. That said, it’s something the kids say they want to do as well (read: it’s not just my idea), and I feel good about it. And that’s not exactly the feeling I had with all of the soapmaking- polyglot-Flylady stuff.
It all started as a discussion with the kids over working on improving ourselves, stemming from an earlier discussion we had had on Lent. We talked about leading a lifestyle that would focus on improving our bodies, our minds, and our spirits. The more we thought about it, the more our ideas started to resemble a simplified, hybrid form of Benedictine monasticism replete with Shaolin conditioning. It’s so funny that my kids are sometimes so much like me; it’s crazy. We all seem to be attracted to the idea of asceticism. We find the idea incredibly romantic. Now of course, I don’t mention asceticism here to suggest that that is our intention. That would be a way bigger plan than the one we had envisioned. In reality, our plan is simply to find our balance—a healthy balance. One that would help keep us focused on things that already matter to us. The key here is simplicity.
We figured that we already had the “mind” aspect covered, what with homeschooling already being such a large part of our days. Granted, there is always room for improvement. Autonomy on all things school related continues to be an issue. While I can trust my teen to work well independently most of the time, the younger two still need a bit of prodding along. My presence has an almost magical effect on their output. If I’m as far away as the next room, they’re less productive. The plan is to schedule well-organized time blocks, and set clear initiatives and goals to meet each day.
The “spiritual” aspect has had a bit of a spike in recent weeks, thanks to it being Lent. There has been more stuff going on at church, and more related discussions about relevant spiritual issues at home. But as with the “mind” stuff above, there is still ample room for improvement here as well. I’m thinking more time spent on meditation and reflection on the rosary, the stations of the cross, the Divine Mercy chaplet, etc. More silence would definitely be welcome as well. I figure that at the very least it would be an exercise in self-control, for all of us! Our plan here is to start the day simply, with a Morning Offering, and then move on from there.
The “body” aspect of this glorious plan of ours is quite possibly the part that needs the greatest overhaul. We’ve already been striving to eat healthy, cut our sugar intake, and avoid overly processed foods while out of the house. Our fitness levels, while better than they were once upon a time, are still lacking. On our Kung Fu nights, we do okay, but our days off are primarily spent on sedentary activities. The plan here is to incorporate more Kung Fu. We would want to include daily conditioning (my son is petitioning hard for iron body training), as well as stretching, stance drills, and forms. Tai chi and Qi Gong would work best in the morning, while the other higher intensity work would fit best in the early afternoon.
The kids and I brainstormed ways on how to fit it all in, and while we have a rudimentary idea as to how our schedule would look, it hasn’t been put into practice yet. It doesn’t look crazy or outlandish, or even all that difficult to follow (I think). I’m sure that many families do a lot of the same, with some subtle differences. I’m envisioning a Catholic family that sends their children to school, where they also partake in sports as an extra-curricular activity. Their children would already be getting a lot of what I describe above, so in that sense, this is not a novel idea at all.
I’m thinking that after a bit of tweaking, next week will be our first full week trying this out. We’ll either feel healthier and stronger in body, mind, and spirit, or we’ll burn out. I’m hoping for the former. If not, it’s back to the drawing board. This is not an idea I’d want to just abandon.
Now lest it be assumed that I have absolutely no stick-to-it-tiveness, that’s not the case either. I do stick with things that matter…like the homeschooling, which I’ve been committed to for eleven years. For a lot of other things however, I think I’m part magpie, getting perpetually distracted by anything shiny. Whether this new plan we’re envisioning really matters enough to me, and to us as a family, or whether it is just another shiny thing to distract us, is still to be determined. That said, it’s something the kids say they want to do as well (read: it’s not just my idea), and I feel good about it. And that’s not exactly the feeling I had with all of the soapmaking- polyglot-Flylady stuff.
It all started as a discussion with the kids over working on improving ourselves, stemming from an earlier discussion we had had on Lent. We talked about leading a lifestyle that would focus on improving our bodies, our minds, and our spirits. The more we thought about it, the more our ideas started to resemble a simplified, hybrid form of Benedictine monasticism replete with Shaolin conditioning. It’s so funny that my kids are sometimes so much like me; it’s crazy. We all seem to be attracted to the idea of asceticism. We find the idea incredibly romantic. Now of course, I don’t mention asceticism here to suggest that that is our intention. That would be a way bigger plan than the one we had envisioned. In reality, our plan is simply to find our balance—a healthy balance. One that would help keep us focused on things that already matter to us. The key here is simplicity.
We figured that we already had the “mind” aspect covered, what with homeschooling already being such a large part of our days. Granted, there is always room for improvement. Autonomy on all things school related continues to be an issue. While I can trust my teen to work well independently most of the time, the younger two still need a bit of prodding along. My presence has an almost magical effect on their output. If I’m as far away as the next room, they’re less productive. The plan is to schedule well-organized time blocks, and set clear initiatives and goals to meet each day.
The “spiritual” aspect has had a bit of a spike in recent weeks, thanks to it being Lent. There has been more stuff going on at church, and more related discussions about relevant spiritual issues at home. But as with the “mind” stuff above, there is still ample room for improvement here as well. I’m thinking more time spent on meditation and reflection on the rosary, the stations of the cross, the Divine Mercy chaplet, etc. More silence would definitely be welcome as well. I figure that at the very least it would be an exercise in self-control, for all of us! Our plan here is to start the day simply, with a Morning Offering, and then move on from there.
The “body” aspect of this glorious plan of ours is quite possibly the part that needs the greatest overhaul. We’ve already been striving to eat healthy, cut our sugar intake, and avoid overly processed foods while out of the house. Our fitness levels, while better than they were once upon a time, are still lacking. On our Kung Fu nights, we do okay, but our days off are primarily spent on sedentary activities. The plan here is to incorporate more Kung Fu. We would want to include daily conditioning (my son is petitioning hard for iron body training), as well as stretching, stance drills, and forms. Tai chi and Qi Gong would work best in the morning, while the other higher intensity work would fit best in the early afternoon.
The kids and I brainstormed ways on how to fit it all in, and while we have a rudimentary idea as to how our schedule would look, it hasn’t been put into practice yet. It doesn’t look crazy or outlandish, or even all that difficult to follow (I think). I’m sure that many families do a lot of the same, with some subtle differences. I’m envisioning a Catholic family that sends their children to school, where they also partake in sports as an extra-curricular activity. Their children would already be getting a lot of what I describe above, so in that sense, this is not a novel idea at all.
I’m thinking that after a bit of tweaking, next week will be our first full week trying this out. We’ll either feel healthier and stronger in body, mind, and spirit, or we’ll burn out. I’m hoping for the former. If not, it’s back to the drawing board. This is not an idea I’d want to just abandon.
Tuesday, March 6, 2012
“Ethical Nudity,” or Good Old Catholic Therapy
So I had a couple of bad days having to deal with a difficult person. Surprise, surprise! Obviously, that’s what led to my last blog post. And yes, that was a facetious list on how NOT to deal with such people. I was attempting to cheer myself up by making light of the situation, and it helped, for a little while at least. Consider that my blog therapy. For anyone curious as to what I really did to deal with the situation, it was fairly simple, albeit somewhat misguided. I went into major avoidance mode, at least until things blew over. It wasn’t incredibly difficult at all. I observe a certain level of avoidance anyway with this particular person, so keeping my distance just comes naturally. The avoidance was and continues to be a good thing. Healthy even. What wasn’t healthy however, was feeling all angry and bristly inside. While I managed to bite my tongue and take the “high road” in this person’s presence, I went the other route in the privacy of my own home, in my head, and in my heart. I complained to my husband, I made snarky remarks (some were made on here for all to see), and I sighed deeply and loudly at the mere mention of said person’s name. I just wasn’t myself, and I was starting to feel rotten. I don’t like holding grudges. It’s completely counter to my nature, and it serves no purpose. And while I believed that I had already forgiven this person in my heart, I didn’t really have that sense of closure yet. And no amount of making light of it was going to end it either, despite the laughs.
It was immediately obvious that I’d benefit from going to confession. I like to refer to it as Catholic therapy. You walk in all broken, bearing the burden of your faults, and come out brand new. I love that. The line to confess was long, so I had plenty of time to go over my examination of conscience, and reflect on my sins. While I was on line, I became distracted by the sound of a woman's voice at the front of the church. I had seen her before at least a dozen times. She’s a fixture at our church. Her life has been hard, plagued by addiction and mental illness. People kept kindly urging her to keep her voice down, and she would try her hardest to remember, and then her voice would just gradually get louder again. Then she decided to walk over to our line (it was a large penance service, so there were four lines to choose from), and she zeroed in on me immediately, asking if she could cut in before me. I was about sixth in the queue, and of all of those present, she chose me to approach. I told her that of course she could cut in, and made room for her. In between showering me with praises, frequent hugs, “I love you’s”, and kisses for allowing her to cut in line, she proceeded to detail random little vignettes about the horrors of her life. Immediately, I felt guilty over, quite frankly, the insignificance of my own problems, and particularly for having allowed them to consume me the way they had. So what if I had a less than ideal encounter (or series of encounters) with someone. It was apparent that this woman’s every waking moment was a torment. Her "difficult person" is more than just one entity. I could see in her eyes that she was getting overwhelmed with sadness over the stories she was relating. And when she was most upset, she proceeded to tell me how she wasn’t worth Christ’s sacrifice or forgiveness. Those words just shot straight into my heart. Who could be more worthy? Here she was humbling herself, acknowledging the faults that had in one way or another contributed to her monumental problems, while others so easily turn and blame God for much less. She was taking the responsibility, even though from her story, it was apparent that there were other contributors. I found myself telling her, over and over again, that of course she was worthy of forgiveness. Me! The very person who had felt so rotten and unworthy just earlier. On a good day, it's easy to know we all matter and that we are worthy of forgiveness, but a bad day clouds everything. It was serendipitous to have had that encounter with her. It softened me. I had still been holding a bit of a grudge; I just hadn’t realized it before. There’s nothing more humbling than coming face to face with someone whose problems dwarf your owm. What a weird, roundabout way to feel grateful for the cards you’ve been dealt.
After her confession, she was beaming. Were all her problems fixed? Of course not, but I believe she was given the grace and the hope to endure a bit longer. I don't know how much longer. A lot of it depends on her. Addiction is huge, and awful, and insidious, so she has a very hard road ahead of her. She will need spiritual maintenance. We all do.
And then it was my turn to bear it all. My turn to say, "Hey, I've been a real jerk, and I'm really sorry for it." As I think about it now, it was probably one of my best confessions ever, thanks in large part to the humbling encounter I had with that woman. The priest was very kind and responsive, and he even chuckled a bit at something I said (a relief to me as I took it as a sign that he's heard much worse). He offered me the best advice, and helped me to put things in perspective. And then I was absolved, and the weight was lifted. I found myself, as I often do after confession, feeling deeply relieved and settled for the first time in weeks. There is no downgrading the effect bitter feelings have on a person, and nothing beats the peace of finally letting them go, and in this case, really knowing you’ve been forgiven for them. And so I was repaired, for a little while at least, until I find myself stumbling again.
This story reminded me of a talk we recently listened to by Archbishop Fulton Sheen on how the repression of sin affects our minds and bodies. And that made me think of the many people out there who don't take part in frequent confession. I'd be a mess, obviously. Allowing my anger to fester was a form of repression, because it meant I was hyper-focused on someone else's guilt whilst downplaying the role I was playing in not just letting it all go. The longer I held onto it, the more bitter I felt, and the snarkier I became. Others repress guilt by over-scheduling, keeping themselves busy to the point that they haven't a moment to spare to think of where they've gone wrong. Things just keep getting swept under the rug, with the hope that they'll disappear. But they don't. They just build up. And still others repress their sins by pointing fingers, placing the blame elsewhere.
Today it seems that no one really wants to discuss sin, as if it doesn’t even exist. It may seem unpopular, or medieval to many. Often it’s an issue of semantics. It’s okay to say you’ve got “issues” or "problems" but not okay to say you’re a sinner. Archbishop Sheen, in his talk (see below), suggests that sin is at the core of most of our unhappiness…that our unhappiness can be tied to our incapacity to bear responsibility for our thoughts, actions, or inactions, and that the build-up of guilt can manifest itself in a number of ways, physically and emotionally, at any time throughout the course of our lives. I believe he’s right. We allow our guilt and righteous anger to fester, and then unable to contain it, we act out by continuing to make poor choices. Guilt has sort of gotten a bad rap, and that's unfortunate. Guilt has a very humane purpose, particularly when acknowledged, addressed, and ultimately let go. It is the sign that someone has a working conscience. There’s nothing scarier than someone without a conscience. Pinocchio, as cute as he was, would have been the stuff of nightmares for me if Jiminy Cricket weren’t around to help keep him on the straight and narrow. (Okay, maybe I just think marionettes are creepy, but that’s beside the point). And I’m sure all of us, at one time or another, have questioned the perceived lack of conscience in others, particularly when it leads to horrible acts of violence. The recent news story of the young boy being set on fire on his way home from school is one such example. Thankfully for us, conscience can (and often does) kick in after the fact, and I hope that this is the case with the perpetrators of that particular crime. It’s sad enough to think of the victim in this story, without adding the brokenness of the perpetrators into the mix.
Now about that “Catholic guilt…”
There have been times in my life when upon learning that I’m a practicing Catholic, people have commented on the so-called issue of “Catholic guilt,” as if guilt is something unique to Catholicism. Obviously, it’s not. There’s even a Wiki article about it, and apparently it’s an idea still so current, that it even warranted an entry in Urban Dictionary. It’s my guilt that invariably leads me to returning my shopping cart to its designated area, especially on a rainy or blustery day when I’d much rather just shelter myself in the car. Identifying as Catholic has little to do with it. It does have to do with good old common courtesy and a smattering of guilt at the thought of some teenage employee catching a cold because he's spent an hour returning dozens of carts, including the one I had used.
I'm not addressing Catholic guilt in the form of scrupulosity here. That's a whole other ball of wax, deserving of its own post, better left for another time. Besides, if you're scrupulous, you don't need to be sold on the idea of confession. You're already going. Often.
Anyway, I’ve digressed enough for one day. I’ve added Archbishop Sheen’s talk below for those willing to give it a listen. It’s a good one, although I must say, I’ve never heard a bad or even mediocre talk of his. I doubt one even exists. And boy was he funny, too, and I do appreciate a bit of levity.
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
*Edited to change a word or two (or three).
It was immediately obvious that I’d benefit from going to confession. I like to refer to it as Catholic therapy. You walk in all broken, bearing the burden of your faults, and come out brand new. I love that. The line to confess was long, so I had plenty of time to go over my examination of conscience, and reflect on my sins. While I was on line, I became distracted by the sound of a woman's voice at the front of the church. I had seen her before at least a dozen times. She’s a fixture at our church. Her life has been hard, plagued by addiction and mental illness. People kept kindly urging her to keep her voice down, and she would try her hardest to remember, and then her voice would just gradually get louder again. Then she decided to walk over to our line (it was a large penance service, so there were four lines to choose from), and she zeroed in on me immediately, asking if she could cut in before me. I was about sixth in the queue, and of all of those present, she chose me to approach. I told her that of course she could cut in, and made room for her. In between showering me with praises, frequent hugs, “I love you’s”, and kisses for allowing her to cut in line, she proceeded to detail random little vignettes about the horrors of her life. Immediately, I felt guilty over, quite frankly, the insignificance of my own problems, and particularly for having allowed them to consume me the way they had. So what if I had a less than ideal encounter (or series of encounters) with someone. It was apparent that this woman’s every waking moment was a torment. Her "difficult person" is more than just one entity. I could see in her eyes that she was getting overwhelmed with sadness over the stories she was relating. And when she was most upset, she proceeded to tell me how she wasn’t worth Christ’s sacrifice or forgiveness. Those words just shot straight into my heart. Who could be more worthy? Here she was humbling herself, acknowledging the faults that had in one way or another contributed to her monumental problems, while others so easily turn and blame God for much less. She was taking the responsibility, even though from her story, it was apparent that there were other contributors. I found myself telling her, over and over again, that of course she was worthy of forgiveness. Me! The very person who had felt so rotten and unworthy just earlier. On a good day, it's easy to know we all matter and that we are worthy of forgiveness, but a bad day clouds everything. It was serendipitous to have had that encounter with her. It softened me. I had still been holding a bit of a grudge; I just hadn’t realized it before. There’s nothing more humbling than coming face to face with someone whose problems dwarf your owm. What a weird, roundabout way to feel grateful for the cards you’ve been dealt.
After her confession, she was beaming. Were all her problems fixed? Of course not, but I believe she was given the grace and the hope to endure a bit longer. I don't know how much longer. A lot of it depends on her. Addiction is huge, and awful, and insidious, so she has a very hard road ahead of her. She will need spiritual maintenance. We all do.
And then it was my turn to bear it all. My turn to say, "Hey, I've been a real jerk, and I'm really sorry for it." As I think about it now, it was probably one of my best confessions ever, thanks in large part to the humbling encounter I had with that woman. The priest was very kind and responsive, and he even chuckled a bit at something I said (a relief to me as I took it as a sign that he's heard much worse). He offered me the best advice, and helped me to put things in perspective. And then I was absolved, and the weight was lifted. I found myself, as I often do after confession, feeling deeply relieved and settled for the first time in weeks. There is no downgrading the effect bitter feelings have on a person, and nothing beats the peace of finally letting them go, and in this case, really knowing you’ve been forgiven for them. And so I was repaired, for a little while at least, until I find myself stumbling again.
This story reminded me of a talk we recently listened to by Archbishop Fulton Sheen on how the repression of sin affects our minds and bodies. And that made me think of the many people out there who don't take part in frequent confession. I'd be a mess, obviously. Allowing my anger to fester was a form of repression, because it meant I was hyper-focused on someone else's guilt whilst downplaying the role I was playing in not just letting it all go. The longer I held onto it, the more bitter I felt, and the snarkier I became. Others repress guilt by over-scheduling, keeping themselves busy to the point that they haven't a moment to spare to think of where they've gone wrong. Things just keep getting swept under the rug, with the hope that they'll disappear. But they don't. They just build up. And still others repress their sins by pointing fingers, placing the blame elsewhere.
Today it seems that no one really wants to discuss sin, as if it doesn’t even exist. It may seem unpopular, or medieval to many. Often it’s an issue of semantics. It’s okay to say you’ve got “issues” or "problems" but not okay to say you’re a sinner. Archbishop Sheen, in his talk (see below), suggests that sin is at the core of most of our unhappiness…that our unhappiness can be tied to our incapacity to bear responsibility for our thoughts, actions, or inactions, and that the build-up of guilt can manifest itself in a number of ways, physically and emotionally, at any time throughout the course of our lives. I believe he’s right. We allow our guilt and righteous anger to fester, and then unable to contain it, we act out by continuing to make poor choices. Guilt has sort of gotten a bad rap, and that's unfortunate. Guilt has a very humane purpose, particularly when acknowledged, addressed, and ultimately let go. It is the sign that someone has a working conscience. There’s nothing scarier than someone without a conscience. Pinocchio, as cute as he was, would have been the stuff of nightmares for me if Jiminy Cricket weren’t around to help keep him on the straight and narrow. (Okay, maybe I just think marionettes are creepy, but that’s beside the point). And I’m sure all of us, at one time or another, have questioned the perceived lack of conscience in others, particularly when it leads to horrible acts of violence. The recent news story of the young boy being set on fire on his way home from school is one such example. Thankfully for us, conscience can (and often does) kick in after the fact, and I hope that this is the case with the perpetrators of that particular crime. It’s sad enough to think of the victim in this story, without adding the brokenness of the perpetrators into the mix.
Now about that “Catholic guilt…”
There have been times in my life when upon learning that I’m a practicing Catholic, people have commented on the so-called issue of “Catholic guilt,” as if guilt is something unique to Catholicism. Obviously, it’s not. There’s even a Wiki article about it, and apparently it’s an idea still so current, that it even warranted an entry in Urban Dictionary. It’s my guilt that invariably leads me to returning my shopping cart to its designated area, especially on a rainy or blustery day when I’d much rather just shelter myself in the car. Identifying as Catholic has little to do with it. It does have to do with good old common courtesy and a smattering of guilt at the thought of some teenage employee catching a cold because he's spent an hour returning dozens of carts, including the one I had used.
I'm not addressing Catholic guilt in the form of scrupulosity here. That's a whole other ball of wax, deserving of its own post, better left for another time. Besides, if you're scrupulous, you don't need to be sold on the idea of confession. You're already going. Often.
Anyway, I’ve digressed enough for one day. I’ve added Archbishop Sheen’s talk below for those willing to give it a listen. It’s a good one, although I must say, I’ve never heard a bad or even mediocre talk of his. I doubt one even exists. And boy was he funny, too, and I do appreciate a bit of levity.
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
*Edited to change a word or two (or three).
Wednesday, February 29, 2012
How NOT to Deal with Difficult People
1. Let them get to you, allowing them to wield psychological power over you to the point that they are all you can think about or talk about (um, or write about).
2. Allow your experiences with said difficult person to lead you into making broad generalizations regarding their culture or creed (or gene pool).
3. Refer to difficult people as Satan spawn or Nazis.
4. Rehash every negative experience had with said difficult person and conclude that they are in fact the antichrist.
5. Psychoanalyze their motives until you succeed at making your head explode, as you come to the realization that they are actually not even fully human, but 90% cybernetic, and therefore incapable of human emotion.
6. Spend inordinate amounts of time plotting revenge, involving the staging of an alien encounter just to freak said difficult person out (unless they are cyborgs—see number 5 above, in which case you're plum outta luck 'cause they are probably fearless).
7. Continue to put time and attention into the gifts you give said person (applicable only for difficult people to which you're related, through marriage or otherwise, because really, what other reason would induce you to give such an ornery person a gift in the first place)...gifts and thoughts that are seldom appreciated, and quite often vociferously criticized.
8. Continue to fruitlessly look for common ground in an effort to win said difficult person over, thinking naively that you're Pollyanna-esque and quite possibly the only person on earth able to tame them with your goodness and sincerity, only to find out later that your every effort is summarily shot down.
9. Engage said difficult person in conversation, in an effort to take the higher road, whilst feigning interest in all of said difficult person's favorite activities (e.g. being evil). This seldom has the intended effect.
10. Subject your children to said difficult person and call it diversity training.
11. Snort loudly, or stand in bewildered silence when a mutual acquaintance inquires about said person, especially when the acquaintance only knows the difficult person's good side and their inquiry and subsequent comments come off even a slight bit adulatory.
12. And related to number 11... Give in to temptation and tell sincere inquirer person all that you know about how said difficult person hates puppies and all else that is good in the world. That'll show 'em.
2. Allow your experiences with said difficult person to lead you into making broad generalizations regarding their culture or creed (or gene pool).
3. Refer to difficult people as Satan spawn or Nazis.
4. Rehash every negative experience had with said difficult person and conclude that they are in fact the antichrist.
5. Psychoanalyze their motives until you succeed at making your head explode, as you come to the realization that they are actually not even fully human, but 90% cybernetic, and therefore incapable of human emotion.
6. Spend inordinate amounts of time plotting revenge, involving the staging of an alien encounter just to freak said difficult person out (unless they are cyborgs—see number 5 above, in which case you're plum outta luck 'cause they are probably fearless).
7. Continue to put time and attention into the gifts you give said person (applicable only for difficult people to which you're related, through marriage or otherwise, because really, what other reason would induce you to give such an ornery person a gift in the first place)...gifts and thoughts that are seldom appreciated, and quite often vociferously criticized.
8. Continue to fruitlessly look for common ground in an effort to win said difficult person over, thinking naively that you're Pollyanna-esque and quite possibly the only person on earth able to tame them with your goodness and sincerity, only to find out later that your every effort is summarily shot down.
9. Engage said difficult person in conversation, in an effort to take the higher road, whilst feigning interest in all of said difficult person's favorite activities (e.g. being evil). This seldom has the intended effect.
10. Subject your children to said difficult person and call it diversity training.
11. Snort loudly, or stand in bewildered silence when a mutual acquaintance inquires about said person, especially when the acquaintance only knows the difficult person's good side and their inquiry and subsequent comments come off even a slight bit adulatory.
12. And related to number 11... Give in to temptation and tell sincere inquirer person all that you know about how said difficult person hates puppies and all else that is good in the world. That'll show 'em.
Thursday, February 23, 2012
Day Two of Lent and Not Up to Scratch? Add Something In!
Every year I have all of these great ideas on all of the changes I need to make in order to have a spiritually edifying Lenten experience. This in and of itself is not a problem. The problem is that I want to go whole hog, and end up overwhelming myself with self-prescribed regulations, much like I do on most years when coming up with a laundry list of New Year’s resolutions. It’s like setting myself up for failure, demanding not just one thing of myself, but several, as if I can go from being undisciplined to being an ascetic in forty days' time. And please note here that I’m not really talking about “giving stuff up for Lent.” In reality, that sort of stuff doesn’t work as well for me. Giving stuff up, like actual "stuff," is easy. I have incredible will power when it comes to this sort of thing, and after a while, avoiding specific things becomes less and less difficult and just becomes the new normal (like the time I gave up sugar in my tea, and then midway through Lent didn’t even mind as I couldn’t stand the thought of sweetened tea ever again). It’s the “adding stuff in” that I find most difficult, and therefore more worthy of my time, from a spiritual standpoint. And as to my criteria, the kind of stuff I’d be adding in, in my opinion, shouldn’t be dually purposed, because the ulterior purpose can eventually take precedent over the other spiritual one, until it becomes the greater of the two. For example, I can determine that I want to add in more exercise in acknowledgement that my body is a temple of God, and feel that I’ve addressed my spiritual criteria in settling with that change in behavior. Yet somewhere in my psyche, there will be the niggling feeling that an ulterior purpose (i.e. losing weight, feeling more attractive/giving in to vanity, etc.) would eventually become par with or even surpass the spiritual reasons I previously had in settling with the change in the first place. Honestly, the truth is that I should be exercising more anyway, and not use Lent as an excuse to do so. Of course, one can argue that there are many other benefits to exercising that are not those parenthetically noted, and as Catholics, we should strive to keep our bodies fit, healthy, and strong, but I struggle with those being my real reasons. Often I just want to look good in my jeans. Yeah, vanity. I guess it comes down to knowing yourself, and I have myself pretty much pegged.
And so I tend to struggle with determining what to do differently every year during Lent. I’m sure I can be rightly accused of over-thinking this, but what else is new? It would be out of character for me to not over-think. But what if you’re married to the idea of giving something up, rather than adding something in? If so, here are some pretty neat suggestions. The list is geared toward teens, but seeing as I still feel like a fourteen year old on most days, I still think several of them apply to even a thirty-something like me. Besides, I found several of the ideas unique. Never thought of giving up my pillow!
Ultimately, I’m still firmly in the “add stuff in” camp, because if there’s something that I really value, it’s my time. The more I add in, particularly the addition of time spent serving others (in this case, even my own family qualifies), the less time I have to enjoy other more selfish pursuits. In consideration of this, I’ll be adding stuff in as I go along, whatever those things may be and as situations arise, making sure that I remain consistent. And what better way of keeping track of every time I give up my time (you see, "adding in" can mean "giving up" as well, but it sounds more positive...to me anyway!) than to use St. Therese's sacrifice beads? Just move a bead over every time you sacrifice a bit of your time.
With that said, I have to add in some more school time with the kids, even if I’m technically still on my lunch break.
Wishing you all a very blessed Lenten season!
And so I tend to struggle with determining what to do differently every year during Lent. I’m sure I can be rightly accused of over-thinking this, but what else is new? It would be out of character for me to not over-think. But what if you’re married to the idea of giving something up, rather than adding something in? If so, here are some pretty neat suggestions. The list is geared toward teens, but seeing as I still feel like a fourteen year old on most days, I still think several of them apply to even a thirty-something like me. Besides, I found several of the ideas unique. Never thought of giving up my pillow!
Ultimately, I’m still firmly in the “add stuff in” camp, because if there’s something that I really value, it’s my time. The more I add in, particularly the addition of time spent serving others (in this case, even my own family qualifies), the less time I have to enjoy other more selfish pursuits. In consideration of this, I’ll be adding stuff in as I go along, whatever those things may be and as situations arise, making sure that I remain consistent. And what better way of keeping track of every time I give up my time (you see, "adding in" can mean "giving up" as well, but it sounds more positive...to me anyway!) than to use St. Therese's sacrifice beads? Just move a bead over every time you sacrifice a bit of your time.
With that said, I have to add in some more school time with the kids, even if I’m technically still on my lunch break.
Wishing you all a very blessed Lenten season!
Tuesday, February 21, 2012
A Series of Awkward Events
Hello. My name is Patty, and I am no stranger to awkward situations. I’m sure that I contribute to the awkwardness at least half of the time, but the incidents over the past few weeks however, were totally not my fault. I think.
Scenario number 1: Running into someone you know outside of the environment in which you’re accustomed to seeing them
If you’re like me, and you associate people with specific places, then it’s always weird to run into them elsewhere. This is kind of like seeing your high school French teacher shopping at Victoria’s Secret. But even running into someone you know from church at the grocery store can be awkward, particularly if you know them well enough to greet them, but know little else about them. Worse still is when you exchange pleasantries and say your good-byes in aisle 11, only to run into them a few minutes later in aisle 13. Awkward.
In any case, we had a similarly awkward experience while on line in the grocery store a few weeks ago. One of my kids spotted an acquaintance of ours standing in the next line. Once spotted, and eye contact was made, my family politely greeted them. Their reaction was priceless.
Here’s the play-by-play:
My family: Oh, hi guys! {Big smiles}
The others: Oh, hi. {Then they proceeded to turn away, facing forward, and completely ignored us the whole time they were on line).
And it was a longish line, and there we were, standing fairly close to each other in silence as we each waited for our turns at our respective registers. Awkward.
The thing about these awkward encounters is that you always end up wondering if you ever did or said something off-putting in your whole history of knowing the person or people involved. I don’t think we did, but I don’t have a crystal ball either.
Frank, my husband, is the best at coming up with possible scenarios, all in an effort to place the blame squarely on the other party, thereby making me feel better and assuring me that I’m not repugnant after all. Here were some of his explanations:
1 – They were caught red-handed, buying equipment for a homemade bomb.
2 – One or more of them suffer from halitosis.
3 – A combination of numbers one and two.
And yes, these explanations actually did make me feel better.
Scenario number 2: Seeing someone you know since childhood and having an awkward exchange, as if you don’t even know each other at all
So the other day, upon leaving Target, I thought I spotted an old school acquaintance. My eyesight has been so poor lately (am overdue for an upgrade on my glasses), that I refrained from shouting my hello from several feet away. When close enough to be certain that it was who I thought it was, I enthusiastically shouted out my greeting. Yes, shouted.
Play-by-play:
Me: Hey, how ya doin’?!?!?
Childhood friend: {With odd sort of smile/smirk on face} Hey…
And he proceeded to walk briskly past me.
Seeing as my voice volume was already at eleven, my response of “That was weird,” rang out for all to hear. Awkward.
My husband’s explanations:
1 – The guy very obviously had just sharted (classy, I know), and was making his way to the Target bathroom asap. (Have I mentioned that my husband and I have an eight-year-old's sense of humor)?
2 – He had just had an argument with his wife over his frequent salutation of uber hot women in Target parking lots, and then I come along and add extra fuel to the fire. (Um, I really loved this one, as I get to pretend I’m hot).
3 – A combination of numbers one and two. Obviously.
Scenario number 3: Talking to, or touching a complete stranger, thinking that he or she is your spouse, sibling, or child. Okay, this one is totally my fault, and as flighty as I am, it’s happened to me several times.
So we were at a close-out sale, and this guy, who I thought was my husband, was flipping through the posters on that flipper poster thingie that’s usually attached to a wall. I proceeded to comment on the posters he was going through.
Play-by-play, although I can’t vouch for the exact wording:
{Approaching poster area…}
Me: Oh brother, what is it about men and squat posters? {This was actually just a joke meant towards my husband, as there were no such posters there. Then I proceeded to step in front of the guy and flip posters, without any regard to him and his poster needs.}
Perplexed stranger guy: What?
Me: {Feeling of dread overcomes me as the unfamiliar voice registers and I turn to face a total stranger…} Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry. {Quickly depart. And I do mean quickly.}
Now that was awkward. And embarrassing.
So for all of you lamenting your or others' awkwardness, you are not alone. Feel free to share your stories, and make me feel better. Think of it as therapy.
Scenario number 1: Running into someone you know outside of the environment in which you’re accustomed to seeing them
If you’re like me, and you associate people with specific places, then it’s always weird to run into them elsewhere. This is kind of like seeing your high school French teacher shopping at Victoria’s Secret. But even running into someone you know from church at the grocery store can be awkward, particularly if you know them well enough to greet them, but know little else about them. Worse still is when you exchange pleasantries and say your good-byes in aisle 11, only to run into them a few minutes later in aisle 13. Awkward.
In any case, we had a similarly awkward experience while on line in the grocery store a few weeks ago. One of my kids spotted an acquaintance of ours standing in the next line. Once spotted, and eye contact was made, my family politely greeted them. Their reaction was priceless.
Here’s the play-by-play:
My family: Oh, hi guys! {Big smiles}
The others: Oh, hi. {Then they proceeded to turn away, facing forward, and completely ignored us the whole time they were on line).
And it was a longish line, and there we were, standing fairly close to each other in silence as we each waited for our turns at our respective registers. Awkward.
The thing about these awkward encounters is that you always end up wondering if you ever did or said something off-putting in your whole history of knowing the person or people involved. I don’t think we did, but I don’t have a crystal ball either.
Frank, my husband, is the best at coming up with possible scenarios, all in an effort to place the blame squarely on the other party, thereby making me feel better and assuring me that I’m not repugnant after all. Here were some of his explanations:
1 – They were caught red-handed, buying equipment for a homemade bomb.
2 – One or more of them suffer from halitosis.
3 – A combination of numbers one and two.
And yes, these explanations actually did make me feel better.
Scenario number 2: Seeing someone you know since childhood and having an awkward exchange, as if you don’t even know each other at all
So the other day, upon leaving Target, I thought I spotted an old school acquaintance. My eyesight has been so poor lately (am overdue for an upgrade on my glasses), that I refrained from shouting my hello from several feet away. When close enough to be certain that it was who I thought it was, I enthusiastically shouted out my greeting. Yes, shouted.
Play-by-play:
Me: Hey, how ya doin’?!?!?
Childhood friend: {With odd sort of smile/smirk on face} Hey…
And he proceeded to walk briskly past me.
Seeing as my voice volume was already at eleven, my response of “That was weird,” rang out for all to hear. Awkward.
My husband’s explanations:
1 – The guy very obviously had just sharted (classy, I know), and was making his way to the Target bathroom asap. (Have I mentioned that my husband and I have an eight-year-old's sense of humor)?
2 – He had just had an argument with his wife over his frequent salutation of uber hot women in Target parking lots, and then I come along and add extra fuel to the fire. (Um, I really loved this one, as I get to pretend I’m hot).
3 – A combination of numbers one and two. Obviously.
Scenario number 3: Talking to, or touching a complete stranger, thinking that he or she is your spouse, sibling, or child. Okay, this one is totally my fault, and as flighty as I am, it’s happened to me several times.
So we were at a close-out sale, and this guy, who I thought was my husband, was flipping through the posters on that flipper poster thingie that’s usually attached to a wall. I proceeded to comment on the posters he was going through.
Play-by-play, although I can’t vouch for the exact wording:
{Approaching poster area…}
Me: Oh brother, what is it about men and squat posters? {This was actually just a joke meant towards my husband, as there were no such posters there. Then I proceeded to step in front of the guy and flip posters, without any regard to him and his poster needs.}
Perplexed stranger guy: What?
Me: {Feeling of dread overcomes me as the unfamiliar voice registers and I turn to face a total stranger…} Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry. {Quickly depart. And I do mean quickly.}
Now that was awkward. And embarrassing.
So for all of you lamenting your or others' awkwardness, you are not alone. Feel free to share your stories, and make me feel better. Think of it as therapy.
Monday, February 20, 2012
The Dream Revisited
My husband and I celebrated our 16th wedding anniversary in October, and throughout our marriage, there have only been a few things that have remained consistent, at least with regard to our dreams and pursuits, and how we’ve chosen to raise our family. Everything else has been left open-ended and negotiable. But as for our dreams—yes, they’ve been consistent, and suffice it to say that we dream big. Really big. Sometimes I feel like in idiot, clutching onto what others may think of as pipedreams, but what’s the harm in keeping the faith?
And so, over the long weekend, my husband and I found ourselves discussing big dream numero uno—building our own affordable ecologically sound straw bale home. Buying just any home wouldn’t be the same. This would be a home we’d have a hand in building ourselves, and would give us the opportunity of creating a living space that fits us, rather than the other way around. Oh, how romantic, right? But it’s kind of scary, too. So I go through periods of intense fear over the thought of even embarking on such a journey, particularly as I have absolutely no building experience, and because I haven’t a clue how to even wire or plumb a house. And I cannot say with any certainty that my husband knows much about these sorts of things either. But he’s a glass half full kind of person, so he says he’d be up for the challenge. The reality, however, is that we still, as a couple, have a half dozen or so incomplete home projects, and this realization kind of puts a damper on my big dreaming. Not to mention he works full time, and I am otherwise engaged myself, obsessing over any number of things. What a pair we make!
Keeping in mind all of the above, and that this is all just a dream (so far anyway), please allow me to gush about my absolutely awesome all-in-my-head dream home.
1 - As mentioned, it would be a straw bale construction, coated in cob, and finished with a rendering of lime.
2 - It would make use of materials that could be locally gathered, and built to complement its surroundings and make the best use of its location.
3 - Two words: Solar Panels
4 - It would have earthen floors with radiant heating.
5 - It would preferably be two floors (husband insists, but I’m open to just one).
6 - It would have built-in bookshelves, of course!
7 - It would have an open floor plan. Too many walls seem too constricting to me. I love descriptions of homes that include the verb "spills." For example, "the living room spills out into the spacious family room." Gratuitous space. I love it.
8 - It would have an enclosed courtyard as I’ve been dreaming of such a thing since I was a child. (And now that we’re all involved in martial arts, how absolutely awesome would it be to have an enclosed outdoor area for practice? And no, yards are just not the same. Courtyard = Win!)
I’m sure I can think of more to say, but I’m antsy to get back to Googling for more information. To be honest, I’m more of a hire-it-out sort of girl, but in my dream scenario, I’d still like to have a part in some of the work. I’m sure I can stack bales, and applying cob, while surely time consuming, doesn’t seem that difficult or impossible. All the other stuff however, like making plans, building a frame, and handling the wiring and plumbing however, that’s the part I’d gladly farm out. Hmmm…when I think of it that way, it doesn’t seem that wholly pipe-dreamish. Oh, the possibilities!
I’ll leave you all with this really neat video on straw bale construction.
Tons of work to be sure, but I’d imagine building one’s own home would really transform a person, and that the benefits and sense of accomplishment would be long-lasting and great indeed.
And so, over the long weekend, my husband and I found ourselves discussing big dream numero uno—building our own affordable ecologically sound straw bale home. Buying just any home wouldn’t be the same. This would be a home we’d have a hand in building ourselves, and would give us the opportunity of creating a living space that fits us, rather than the other way around. Oh, how romantic, right? But it’s kind of scary, too. So I go through periods of intense fear over the thought of even embarking on such a journey, particularly as I have absolutely no building experience, and because I haven’t a clue how to even wire or plumb a house. And I cannot say with any certainty that my husband knows much about these sorts of things either. But he’s a glass half full kind of person, so he says he’d be up for the challenge. The reality, however, is that we still, as a couple, have a half dozen or so incomplete home projects, and this realization kind of puts a damper on my big dreaming. Not to mention he works full time, and I am otherwise engaged myself, obsessing over any number of things. What a pair we make!
Keeping in mind all of the above, and that this is all just a dream (so far anyway), please allow me to gush about my absolutely awesome all-in-my-head dream home.
1 - As mentioned, it would be a straw bale construction, coated in cob, and finished with a rendering of lime.
2 - It would make use of materials that could be locally gathered, and built to complement its surroundings and make the best use of its location.
3 - Two words: Solar Panels
4 - It would have earthen floors with radiant heating.
5 - It would preferably be two floors (husband insists, but I’m open to just one).
6 - It would have built-in bookshelves, of course!
7 - It would have an open floor plan. Too many walls seem too constricting to me. I love descriptions of homes that include the verb "spills." For example, "the living room spills out into the spacious family room." Gratuitous space. I love it.
8 - It would have an enclosed courtyard as I’ve been dreaming of such a thing since I was a child. (And now that we’re all involved in martial arts, how absolutely awesome would it be to have an enclosed outdoor area for practice? And no, yards are just not the same. Courtyard = Win!)
I’m sure I can think of more to say, but I’m antsy to get back to Googling for more information. To be honest, I’m more of a hire-it-out sort of girl, but in my dream scenario, I’d still like to have a part in some of the work. I’m sure I can stack bales, and applying cob, while surely time consuming, doesn’t seem that difficult or impossible. All the other stuff however, like making plans, building a frame, and handling the wiring and plumbing however, that’s the part I’d gladly farm out. Hmmm…when I think of it that way, it doesn’t seem that wholly pipe-dreamish. Oh, the possibilities!
I’ll leave you all with this really neat video on straw bale construction.
Tons of work to be sure, but I’d imagine building one’s own home would really transform a person, and that the benefits and sense of accomplishment would be long-lasting and great indeed.
Friday, January 20, 2012
Too Great Not to Share
Aside from the joy and reaffirmation of belief that I receive with just about any conversion story, I also love me some nice reversion stories...particularly accounts that touch upon freeing oneself of life plaguing experiences like drug addiction and incarceration. Mark Wahlberg clearly has his priorities in order. I love to see people in the spotlight this committed to faith, family, and community. Well done, Mark!
Thursday, January 19, 2012
SAT Prep for the Math Strategy-Challenged
I know I can't possibly be the only person to have just one go-to math strategy to employ when solving math problems, right?
[crickets]
Okay, maybe I'm in the minority, but somehow I doubt it. In short, I tend to take the long route to problem solving, going through all of the standard arithmetic, although I didn't realize how long a route it was until beginning Gruber's Complete SAT Guide with my daughter.
Granted, we haven't been using this book very long, but already, I feel like I've had my eyes opened to so much. There's no wonder I struggled with the math portions on my SAT, because even if I could do the math, the time allotment was too short for me. First I had to decipher the problem, determine what was being asked, block out everything else that was going on in the room (distraction is a BIG problem of mine), and then go through all of the steps, employing lots of arithmetic, before arriving at an answer. And then paranoid teenage me (some things never change), would still second-guess my answers, and would attempt to check and double-check. In short, it was a HUGE waste of time.
What's neat about Gruber's book is that it teaches multi-level approaches to solving problems. There's one example in the book using a very simple problem, and the author goes on to illustrate seven different ways to solve it. I found that in that problem, and in subsequent problems in the book, I kept resorting to the "Rote Memory Approach" to solving them. Not only is this the least creative way to solve problems, but it's often the most time-consuming. I just want to add here that this realization kind of ticked me off. In truth, it did. And not just because I was frustrated with myself, but with the fact that this sort of stuff just wasn't ever discussed when I was in high school. Half the time, I just tried to figure things out myself. And there was no Internet to help either! I do believe that there are just some mathematically gifted kids whose brains are wired in a way that makes creative problem solving more organic to them, but if you're not one of the lucky few (my son just happens to be one of them, lucky stiff), then it really helps to have someone, in this case a book, point these strategies out to you.
In any case, I just wanted to put this out there for anyone trying to decide on materials to use for SAT prep. I do want to add that I also purchased a few other resources, namely the College Board's Official SAT Guide, thinking that my daughter could work her way through that one with the help of the oh-so-awesome Khan Academy video series.
[crickets]
Okay, maybe I'm in the minority, but somehow I doubt it. In short, I tend to take the long route to problem solving, going through all of the standard arithmetic, although I didn't realize how long a route it was until beginning Gruber's Complete SAT Guide with my daughter.
Granted, we haven't been using this book very long, but already, I feel like I've had my eyes opened to so much. There's no wonder I struggled with the math portions on my SAT, because even if I could do the math, the time allotment was too short for me. First I had to decipher the problem, determine what was being asked, block out everything else that was going on in the room (distraction is a BIG problem of mine), and then go through all of the steps, employing lots of arithmetic, before arriving at an answer. And then paranoid teenage me (some things never change), would still second-guess my answers, and would attempt to check and double-check. In short, it was a HUGE waste of time.
What's neat about Gruber's book is that it teaches multi-level approaches to solving problems. There's one example in the book using a very simple problem, and the author goes on to illustrate seven different ways to solve it. I found that in that problem, and in subsequent problems in the book, I kept resorting to the "Rote Memory Approach" to solving them. Not only is this the least creative way to solve problems, but it's often the most time-consuming. I just want to add here that this realization kind of ticked me off. In truth, it did. And not just because I was frustrated with myself, but with the fact that this sort of stuff just wasn't ever discussed when I was in high school. Half the time, I just tried to figure things out myself. And there was no Internet to help either! I do believe that there are just some mathematically gifted kids whose brains are wired in a way that makes creative problem solving more organic to them, but if you're not one of the lucky few (my son just happens to be one of them, lucky stiff), then it really helps to have someone, in this case a book, point these strategies out to you.
In any case, I just wanted to put this out there for anyone trying to decide on materials to use for SAT prep. I do want to add that I also purchased a few other resources, namely the College Board's Official SAT Guide, thinking that my daughter could work her way through that one with the help of the oh-so-awesome Khan Academy video series.
Saturday, January 14, 2012
My Korean Drama Addiction
This is crazy. Before a few months ago, I didn't even know anything about these Korean dramas. All I knew is that it was getting more and more difficult to pull my daughters, ages 15 and 13, away from the computer screen. To be honest, I had already gotten used to having to peel them away, as they spent most of their free time on the computer anyway, watching K-pop videos. But this was different. Rather than watching 5 minute music videos, these were hour long plus episodes, and whenever I'd rant for them to get off of the desktop, they'd beg me to allow them just one more episode. Seeing as an hour is considerably longer than five minutes, I felt justified in dragging them away.
And then began the chorus of, "Mom, if only you'd just sit down and watch an episode with us, you'd understand!"
I kept putting it off, but acquiesced eventually. And you know what? They were right. I did understand. I knew I was hooked immediately when my husband asked me to finish up on the desktop, and this time it was me saying, "Just one more episode, okay?"
These dramas are super addictive. They're ingenious, really, in that they're just so sweetly satisfying. I can't imagine anyone not enjoying them. Even my husband was sucked into watching three episodes in a row. By choice! I've only watched four so far, and all four have been romantic comedies, so my experience with the dramas as a whole is decidedly shallow. In the ones I've watched though, there are some consistent themes. There was always an antagonistic relationship between the two leads, with the male character being downright crabby at first. Over time, as can be expected, the leads overcome their obstacles and get together. The comedy is lighthearted, and the relationships are sweet. There is no smut here. Quite often in fact, the leads will only kiss a handful of times, if even that much, and we're talking a peck here and there...nothing like the over-the-top stuff you'll see in many of the American, or even Mexican (or other Spanish language) soaps/novelas. I've seen my fair share of those, so I know what I'm talking about! So when these leads finally do get together, you really feel their longing for each other, and really, what's romance, if not longing for each other? I find that this is lost so much in American shows and movies, but it's the kind of stuff I loved so much in novels like Pride and Prejudice.
So here's a run-down of what I've watched so far, and a brief description of each. I'm listing them in the order that I watched them, not in order of preference, as I can't commit to that kind of listing (although I'm fairly certain my favorite so far is the last I watched, so number four on this list).
1. Boys Over Flowers (25 episodes)
Based on manga, this one stars Lee Min Ho as the bratty uber-rich Goo Joon Pyo and Koo Hye Sun as the sweet, working class, feisty Geum Jan Di. Basically, the story centers around Jan Di, the daughter of dry cleaner. In the first episode, she is offered a full-paid scholarship to the prestigious Shin Hwa school after performing a heroic deed. This is a huge deal for the family, as the school only admits students coming from wealthy families. Upon arriving at the school, Jan Di is quickly aware that there is a clear pecking order, and those at the top, are called the F4 (Flower Four). These are four very fashion-forward boys who are the children of the wealthiest, most powerful families in all of Korea. Goo Joon Pyo is their leader. Jan Di soon realizes that it is best not to get on their bad side, as the F4, Goo Joon Pyo especially, are relentless in their bullying and hazing of students they don't like. Through a series of encounters, Jan Di manages to hold her own, and earns the love and respect of the F4.
2. You're Beautiful (16 episodes)
This one stars the beautiful Park Shin Hye playing Go Mi Nyeo, who has lived in a convent for most of her life, and is preparing to become a nun. She has a twin brother named Go Mi Nam (also played by Park Shin Hye) whose dream it is to become a pop star, in the hopes of being able to reconnect with their mother. I guess that he figures that being famous would help him locate her. He is offered to officially join a very successful pop group called A.N.Jell, so his dream is within reach. Unfortunately, Go Mi Nam, the brother, has had cosmetic surgery gone wrong (hahaha), and he is forced to leave the country for additional surgery and recuperation, so his dreams appear to be cut short after all. That is until his agent tracks down his twin sister, Go Mi Nyeo and convinces her to disguise herself as her brother, at least for as long as Go Mi Nam is unavailable. She reluctantly agrees, thinking of her brother's wish to reunite with their mother, and signs with the band. The other members of the band are crabby Hwang Tae Kyung played by the adorable Jang Geun Suk, the sweet and astute Kang Shin Woo played by Jung Yong Hwa (member of the Korean band CNBlue), and the cute and childlike Kang On Yu/Jeremy played by Lee Hong Ki (member of the Korean band FTIsland). Lots of fun is had as the male band members come to realize, one by one, that their new member is a girl, and all eventually develop feelings for her.
3. Heartstrings (aka You've Fallen for Me; 15 episodes)
Park Shin Hye and Jung Yong Hwa are back in this one playing Lee Kyu Won and Lee Shin respectively. They are both university students. Kyu Won is majoring in traditional Korean music/instruments, specifically the gayageum. Her grandfather who is her guardian is very cynical of any music that is not traditional, having been one of the top traditional musicians of his time. Lee Shin is majoring in modern music and is the lead vocalist and guitarist of a college band called "The Stupid." So yeah, the complete antithesis of traditional. And I guess that therein lies the conflict, yet of the four dramas I watched, the conflict was far less defined in this one. It didn't matter all that much to me, as I liked the characters. Lee Shin of course, is cold and crabby toward Kyu Won at first, as he is harboring a crush on a college dance teacher and doesn't have the time to give to any of this adoring college fangirls, not that Kyu Won is a fangirl...at least not at first. Eventually he comes around though, and everything ends just the way we'd like it to. What I did especially like and appreciate about this one is that little snags that are thrown at the characters from time to time, don't derail their feelings for each other. Very often, in most soap operas, regardless of where they're made, the conflicts come fast and furious, and every time, it alienates the main couple. Not so here. Once they're in love, they're in love, and trust one another completely.
4. Full House (16 episodes)
As mentioned above, this is my favorite of the four. It's also the "oldest," having been broadcast in 2004. This one stars the super famous Korean pop singer Bi/Rain playing Lee Young Jae, and the lovely and hilarious Song Hye Kyo playing Han Ji Eun. Ji Eun, an Internet novelist with little skill, was orphaned years earlier, and lives alone in the huge home her father built and named "Full House," as it was his belief that the home would always be full of love. She has two close friends, a couple named Dong Wook and Hee Jin who she has known for many many years, and they are really horribly wretched, albeit clueless human beings. Upon finding out that Hee Jin is pregnant, Dong Wook, already in debt up to his eyeballs, concocts a plan to sell Ji Eun's house and empty out her bank account to make up for his poor financial decisions. Dong Wook and Hee Jin convince Ji Eun that she has won an all-expense paid trip to Shanghai, and somehow come up with a one-way ticket to give to her. Ji Eun is suspicious at first, stating, "Nothing in this world is free," but she eventually gives in and agrees to go. Seated next to her on the plane is the insanely famous actor Lee Young Jae, who is as renown for his scandals as he is for his skill as an actor. Ji Eun quickly gets on his nerves and makes her way into the viewer's hearts as she's just so darn lovable. Upon arriving in Shanghai, Ji Eun realizes that there is something terribly wrong with this trip. No one is there to meet her, and she hasn't enough money to even pay the taxi fare complete. Thanks to a kind man named Yoo Min Hyuk, played by the handsome Kim Sung Soo, who is visiting the hotel to see his friend Lee Young Jae (surprise, surprise), she is able to register at the hotel. But only after she embarrasses herself, mistaking Min Hyuk for a Japanese businessman. After a few days of being unable to connect with her "friends" for an explanation for why things have gone so wrong, she decides to visit Lee Young Jae's hotel room to ask for a loan of money to pay for the hotel and a return flight home. He agrees to help, but only after she concocts a whole story about how she and his good friend Min Hyuk had at one time been in love. He agrees as a favor to his old friend, as he buys her story hook, line, and sinker. In the meantime, back in Korea, her "friends" have already sold her house...to someone representing Lee Young Jae. Upon arriving back home, she finds that it is no longer her home, and through a whole series of events (I'm skipping a lot here, I know), agrees to enter into a contract marriage with the actor in hopes of getting her home back. So this is one of those forced co-habitation stories, and I really think it's well done. Lee Young Jae is as crabby as ever, and Ji Eun is just delightful, and they sure do manage to push each other's buttons. I really, really loved this one. Swoon!
So, for anyone out there willing to give Korean dramas a shot, I promise you won't be sorry. You can watch them all for free here. Honestly, I'm really glad that with all of the junk on television, that my kids seem to prefer these shows. I don't really censor things for my kids. In fact, they do a great job of knowing what is or isn't appropriate for them to watch, all on their own. But it does my heart good to know that this is the sort of entertainment that they prefer. Not only that, but they're fun for me, too. And that's always a plus.
Now what to watch next?
And then began the chorus of, "Mom, if only you'd just sit down and watch an episode with us, you'd understand!"
I kept putting it off, but acquiesced eventually. And you know what? They were right. I did understand. I knew I was hooked immediately when my husband asked me to finish up on the desktop, and this time it was me saying, "Just one more episode, okay?"
These dramas are super addictive. They're ingenious, really, in that they're just so sweetly satisfying. I can't imagine anyone not enjoying them. Even my husband was sucked into watching three episodes in a row. By choice! I've only watched four so far, and all four have been romantic comedies, so my experience with the dramas as a whole is decidedly shallow. In the ones I've watched though, there are some consistent themes. There was always an antagonistic relationship between the two leads, with the male character being downright crabby at first. Over time, as can be expected, the leads overcome their obstacles and get together. The comedy is lighthearted, and the relationships are sweet. There is no smut here. Quite often in fact, the leads will only kiss a handful of times, if even that much, and we're talking a peck here and there...nothing like the over-the-top stuff you'll see in many of the American, or even Mexican (or other Spanish language) soaps/novelas. I've seen my fair share of those, so I know what I'm talking about! So when these leads finally do get together, you really feel their longing for each other, and really, what's romance, if not longing for each other? I find that this is lost so much in American shows and movies, but it's the kind of stuff I loved so much in novels like Pride and Prejudice.
So here's a run-down of what I've watched so far, and a brief description of each. I'm listing them in the order that I watched them, not in order of preference, as I can't commit to that kind of listing (although I'm fairly certain my favorite so far is the last I watched, so number four on this list).
1. Boys Over Flowers (25 episodes)
Based on manga, this one stars Lee Min Ho as the bratty uber-rich Goo Joon Pyo and Koo Hye Sun as the sweet, working class, feisty Geum Jan Di. Basically, the story centers around Jan Di, the daughter of dry cleaner. In the first episode, she is offered a full-paid scholarship to the prestigious Shin Hwa school after performing a heroic deed. This is a huge deal for the family, as the school only admits students coming from wealthy families. Upon arriving at the school, Jan Di is quickly aware that there is a clear pecking order, and those at the top, are called the F4 (Flower Four). These are four very fashion-forward boys who are the children of the wealthiest, most powerful families in all of Korea. Goo Joon Pyo is their leader. Jan Di soon realizes that it is best not to get on their bad side, as the F4, Goo Joon Pyo especially, are relentless in their bullying and hazing of students they don't like. Through a series of encounters, Jan Di manages to hold her own, and earns the love and respect of the F4.
2. You're Beautiful (16 episodes)
This one stars the beautiful Park Shin Hye playing Go Mi Nyeo, who has lived in a convent for most of her life, and is preparing to become a nun. She has a twin brother named Go Mi Nam (also played by Park Shin Hye) whose dream it is to become a pop star, in the hopes of being able to reconnect with their mother. I guess that he figures that being famous would help him locate her. He is offered to officially join a very successful pop group called A.N.Jell, so his dream is within reach. Unfortunately, Go Mi Nam, the brother, has had cosmetic surgery gone wrong (hahaha), and he is forced to leave the country for additional surgery and recuperation, so his dreams appear to be cut short after all. That is until his agent tracks down his twin sister, Go Mi Nyeo and convinces her to disguise herself as her brother, at least for as long as Go Mi Nam is unavailable. She reluctantly agrees, thinking of her brother's wish to reunite with their mother, and signs with the band. The other members of the band are crabby Hwang Tae Kyung played by the adorable Jang Geun Suk, the sweet and astute Kang Shin Woo played by Jung Yong Hwa (member of the Korean band CNBlue), and the cute and childlike Kang On Yu/Jeremy played by Lee Hong Ki (member of the Korean band FTIsland). Lots of fun is had as the male band members come to realize, one by one, that their new member is a girl, and all eventually develop feelings for her.
3. Heartstrings (aka You've Fallen for Me; 15 episodes)
Park Shin Hye and Jung Yong Hwa are back in this one playing Lee Kyu Won and Lee Shin respectively. They are both university students. Kyu Won is majoring in traditional Korean music/instruments, specifically the gayageum. Her grandfather who is her guardian is very cynical of any music that is not traditional, having been one of the top traditional musicians of his time. Lee Shin is majoring in modern music and is the lead vocalist and guitarist of a college band called "The Stupid." So yeah, the complete antithesis of traditional. And I guess that therein lies the conflict, yet of the four dramas I watched, the conflict was far less defined in this one. It didn't matter all that much to me, as I liked the characters. Lee Shin of course, is cold and crabby toward Kyu Won at first, as he is harboring a crush on a college dance teacher and doesn't have the time to give to any of this adoring college fangirls, not that Kyu Won is a fangirl...at least not at first. Eventually he comes around though, and everything ends just the way we'd like it to. What I did especially like and appreciate about this one is that little snags that are thrown at the characters from time to time, don't derail their feelings for each other. Very often, in most soap operas, regardless of where they're made, the conflicts come fast and furious, and every time, it alienates the main couple. Not so here. Once they're in love, they're in love, and trust one another completely.
4. Full House (16 episodes)
As mentioned above, this is my favorite of the four. It's also the "oldest," having been broadcast in 2004. This one stars the super famous Korean pop singer Bi/Rain playing Lee Young Jae, and the lovely and hilarious Song Hye Kyo playing Han Ji Eun. Ji Eun, an Internet novelist with little skill, was orphaned years earlier, and lives alone in the huge home her father built and named "Full House," as it was his belief that the home would always be full of love. She has two close friends, a couple named Dong Wook and Hee Jin who she has known for many many years, and they are really horribly wretched, albeit clueless human beings. Upon finding out that Hee Jin is pregnant, Dong Wook, already in debt up to his eyeballs, concocts a plan to sell Ji Eun's house and empty out her bank account to make up for his poor financial decisions. Dong Wook and Hee Jin convince Ji Eun that she has won an all-expense paid trip to Shanghai, and somehow come up with a one-way ticket to give to her. Ji Eun is suspicious at first, stating, "Nothing in this world is free," but she eventually gives in and agrees to go. Seated next to her on the plane is the insanely famous actor Lee Young Jae, who is as renown for his scandals as he is for his skill as an actor. Ji Eun quickly gets on his nerves and makes her way into the viewer's hearts as she's just so darn lovable. Upon arriving in Shanghai, Ji Eun realizes that there is something terribly wrong with this trip. No one is there to meet her, and she hasn't enough money to even pay the taxi fare complete. Thanks to a kind man named Yoo Min Hyuk, played by the handsome Kim Sung Soo, who is visiting the hotel to see his friend Lee Young Jae (surprise, surprise), she is able to register at the hotel. But only after she embarrasses herself, mistaking Min Hyuk for a Japanese businessman. After a few days of being unable to connect with her "friends" for an explanation for why things have gone so wrong, she decides to visit Lee Young Jae's hotel room to ask for a loan of money to pay for the hotel and a return flight home. He agrees to help, but only after she concocts a whole story about how she and his good friend Min Hyuk had at one time been in love. He agrees as a favor to his old friend, as he buys her story hook, line, and sinker. In the meantime, back in Korea, her "friends" have already sold her house...to someone representing Lee Young Jae. Upon arriving back home, she finds that it is no longer her home, and through a whole series of events (I'm skipping a lot here, I know), agrees to enter into a contract marriage with the actor in hopes of getting her home back. So this is one of those forced co-habitation stories, and I really think it's well done. Lee Young Jae is as crabby as ever, and Ji Eun is just delightful, and they sure do manage to push each other's buttons. I really, really loved this one. Swoon!
So, for anyone out there willing to give Korean dramas a shot, I promise you won't be sorry. You can watch them all for free here. Honestly, I'm really glad that with all of the junk on television, that my kids seem to prefer these shows. I don't really censor things for my kids. In fact, they do a great job of knowing what is or isn't appropriate for them to watch, all on their own. But it does my heart good to know that this is the sort of entertainment that they prefer. Not only that, but they're fun for me, too. And that's always a plus.
Now what to watch next?
Friday, January 13, 2012
Good Days and Bad Days
Starting this blog a while back was a huge decision for me as I am generally a very private and guarded person. Being open online is difficult, and while I think I've developed a thick enough skin to handle any potential criticism, particularly after years of online activity, I always knew that I would struggle with the whole being guarded thing. There's nothing necessarily wrong with being careful with what and how much you share except that it can feel almost duplicitous, seeking to always share the good days over the bad ones. Oh, and not to mention that it can get boring really fast. And this sort of ties in to what I wrote in my last post, about reassessing the content of this blog. It was quickly apparent to me that I was being fairly one-sided about my life, not wishing to show any vulnerability, or anything "unpretty" whatsoever. But how is that helpful to anyone? Including myself? Really, I'm most in need of writing when I do feel vulnerable. So what's the point in keeping a blog (not that I've been doing a very good job of it lately) if I can't just let my hair down and tell it like it is. Sure, I've shared a tiny bit of my struggles with health related stuff, but all of that is fairly innocuous. But even with regard to that topic, I've refrained from saying much, not wishing to come off as too fixated on it. My family is of Cuban descent, and there is nary a conversation to be had among us that doesn't expound on a laundry list of ailments. I know that I could do similarly, as the propensity to fly off the handle on all issues related to health is embedded in my DNA. Oh, if only you all knew how much I self censor! I could win an award or something.
Hmmm...this is starting to come off like a "coming out" post, and perhaps it is.
Wait. Does this mean she's going to just blab on and on about aching backs and (insert ailment here)?
No.
It means that I will try to share more of myself. More of my opinions, and thoughts on a number of things, not just homeschool-related, but more general stuff, too. It means that I'll try harder not to skirt around topics that are really very important, and personal to me. I'm thinking that these will primarily be issues of faith, family, education, and societal mores, to name a few. I probably won't get into politics, because I don't feel knowledgeable enough in that area, regardless of my often having fundamental, yet unsophisticated opinions on a number of political issues. But trust me, there will be fluff. Hopefully a lot of it.
I don't do small talk very well, and I feel as if until now, that's exactly what I've been doing here. I have difficulty relating to people if I can't have meaningful conversations with them, and if I can't at least share meaningful posts here, then I have no business blogging at all, you know? It's all about what I share. And it's not always going to be pretty. But sometimes it will be.
This all reminds me of something that happened a few years ago, and I swear it's relevant. Let me 'splain. I was having a particularly bad day. The apartment was a mess, I had at least a half dozen incomplete projects strewn all over the place, we all woke up late and didn't get an early start on school, which made everything else lag behind schedule, including our meals. The sink was packed solid with dishes from the night before because no one stepped up to do them, and I was just exhausted physically and emotionally, even upon just waking up. Then for whatever reason, I chose to just escape and sneak a few minutes on Facebook. Big mistake. A friend had just posted a series of photos of her home. They were gorgeous shots. It looked to me as if you could eat off of her floor, it was so clean. Oh, now I remember, it was one of those "Day in the life" photo streams people would post from time to time, where they would take pictures of what they do on their "typical" day. Well, this typical day was extraordinary, or at least it felt that way to me. It really was. Sure, it also included some mundane stuff, like laundry and errands, but oh, everything was just so beautiful. Even the laundry pile was lovely. (Ours is often spilling out of the hamper, and onto the floor, in a non-lovely way). There was one photo of a huge living room, with a few toys and other children's belongings on the floor, and a caption that read something along the lines of, "Now to clean up this mess!" That's when I turned my attention away from the beauty onscreen and took a gander around my apartment which looked more like a post-apocalyptic scene from some poorly made film. And then it happened. I got depressed. I feel like I have to explain myself here. It's not that I'm not super duper happy for my friend who is decidedly not as clueless as I am when it comes to housework and the like. It's just that noting the contrast at that very moment, when I felt most vulnerable, was just crushing. So, I commented on the picture. "Wow, I'd give anything to have your mess. Want mine?" Then she replied something like, "Well, you should have seen it before!"
Wait. Does this mean that she tidied up before she took the picture, or by "before" did she mean the week before? I didn't pursue it any further, but it left me pondering the possibilities. Suffice it to say that I try to take what I see online with a grain of salt. Perhaps this woman was more like me than I may have realized. We take pictures of pretty things, and quite often choose to remember or relate what is best. Evidence of this is everywhere, what with magazines routinely photoshopping and editing photos to death, thereby creating an unattainable image of what is "generally" considered beautiful. And yes, many of us do the same, albeit on a much smaller scale.
Heck, had I done the whole "day in the life" photo essay, I know for certain I would not have chosen a "bad day." You see, I'm no better! And why is this anyway? I mean, while there would surely be those who'd view the pictures critically, I'm certain there would be just as many others out there like me who would view them and relate.
I consider myself to be an imperfect perfectionist, probably the worst kind of perfectionist there can be, but I hope to be courageous enough to share the good, the bad, and even the ugly with all of you, even when it's hard to do so. And believe me, it is a lot of the time.
Hmmm...this is starting to come off like a "coming out" post, and perhaps it is.
Wait. Does this mean she's going to just blab on and on about aching backs and (insert ailment here)?
No.
It means that I will try to share more of myself. More of my opinions, and thoughts on a number of things, not just homeschool-related, but more general stuff, too. It means that I'll try harder not to skirt around topics that are really very important, and personal to me. I'm thinking that these will primarily be issues of faith, family, education, and societal mores, to name a few. I probably won't get into politics, because I don't feel knowledgeable enough in that area, regardless of my often having fundamental, yet unsophisticated opinions on a number of political issues. But trust me, there will be fluff. Hopefully a lot of it.
I don't do small talk very well, and I feel as if until now, that's exactly what I've been doing here. I have difficulty relating to people if I can't have meaningful conversations with them, and if I can't at least share meaningful posts here, then I have no business blogging at all, you know? It's all about what I share. And it's not always going to be pretty. But sometimes it will be.
This all reminds me of something that happened a few years ago, and I swear it's relevant. Let me 'splain. I was having a particularly bad day. The apartment was a mess, I had at least a half dozen incomplete projects strewn all over the place, we all woke up late and didn't get an early start on school, which made everything else lag behind schedule, including our meals. The sink was packed solid with dishes from the night before because no one stepped up to do them, and I was just exhausted physically and emotionally, even upon just waking up. Then for whatever reason, I chose to just escape and sneak a few minutes on Facebook. Big mistake. A friend had just posted a series of photos of her home. They were gorgeous shots. It looked to me as if you could eat off of her floor, it was so clean. Oh, now I remember, it was one of those "Day in the life" photo streams people would post from time to time, where they would take pictures of what they do on their "typical" day. Well, this typical day was extraordinary, or at least it felt that way to me. It really was. Sure, it also included some mundane stuff, like laundry and errands, but oh, everything was just so beautiful. Even the laundry pile was lovely. (Ours is often spilling out of the hamper, and onto the floor, in a non-lovely way). There was one photo of a huge living room, with a few toys and other children's belongings on the floor, and a caption that read something along the lines of, "Now to clean up this mess!" That's when I turned my attention away from the beauty onscreen and took a gander around my apartment which looked more like a post-apocalyptic scene from some poorly made film. And then it happened. I got depressed. I feel like I have to explain myself here. It's not that I'm not super duper happy for my friend who is decidedly not as clueless as I am when it comes to housework and the like. It's just that noting the contrast at that very moment, when I felt most vulnerable, was just crushing. So, I commented on the picture. "Wow, I'd give anything to have your mess. Want mine?" Then she replied something like, "Well, you should have seen it before!"
Wait. Does this mean that she tidied up before she took the picture, or by "before" did she mean the week before? I didn't pursue it any further, but it left me pondering the possibilities. Suffice it to say that I try to take what I see online with a grain of salt. Perhaps this woman was more like me than I may have realized. We take pictures of pretty things, and quite often choose to remember or relate what is best. Evidence of this is everywhere, what with magazines routinely photoshopping and editing photos to death, thereby creating an unattainable image of what is "generally" considered beautiful. And yes, many of us do the same, albeit on a much smaller scale.
Heck, had I done the whole "day in the life" photo essay, I know for certain I would not have chosen a "bad day." You see, I'm no better! And why is this anyway? I mean, while there would surely be those who'd view the pictures critically, I'm certain there would be just as many others out there like me who would view them and relate.
I consider myself to be an imperfect perfectionist, probably the worst kind of perfectionist there can be, but I hope to be courageous enough to share the good, the bad, and even the ugly with all of you, even when it's hard to do so. And believe me, it is a lot of the time.
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