In the Meantime

Whew - a bit of a blog break there!

Last week I was able to take the Young Adult and his friend, Cupcake, to a Highland dance competition in Kansas City, MO. About an 8 hour drive from our place. Not too bad. Most of the driving is through Oklahoma and Kansas, where there are lots of long stretches of road without a lot to see. Well, not totally true. We drove through the lovely Flint Hills of Kansas, where it looked like you might see a shepherd herding sheep at any moment. And of course, we drove through the Turner Falls region of Oklahoma, our family's favorite local vacation place.

Stretching our legs at a "scenic turnout" near Turner Falls, OK

I can almost feel the cold spring waters of Chickasaw National Park!

We were able to stay with friends in Topeka, so that made it like a vacation, and not just a trip. It was so fun to catch up to a family we could totally be related to. We miss them since they moved!

It was nice for the kids to meet new friends and dance in a different competition. For starters, while it had been 100 degrees in Arlington, Tx the weekend before, at the North Texas Highland games, we hit Kansas City at just the right time. It was gorgeous weather, highs in the 70's! We loved every second of it!

Saturday was beautiful! The venue was on the banks of the Missouri river.

The Young Adult has been struggling in his dancing lately. He had "hit a wall", and just could not seem to get past some stuff. He has put a lot of work into it. Even as he was dancing on Saturday, Cupcake told me - "I hope he does well and gets a medal. He has really lost a lot of confidence lately, and that would help." I couldn't say it any better than Cupcake!

Cupcake in the swords dance

Well, he did! The Young Adult managed a 2nd place in the Sean Truibhas (usually one of his more difficult dances), and a 3rd in the Swords! So, he got a stamp for his dance card, and was almost giddy with relief! The next day he even pulled out a 3rd in the Lilt!

Swords - catching some air!

Cupcake did pretty well, too, but she was in a very large group. She is one level ahead of the Young Adult, and the dancing can get very tough in the Novice group!

I was really proud of them, because I almost totally screwed things up! It was over an hour drive from Topeka, where we were staying, to Kansas City, MO. On Saturday morning, we left plenty early. It should have worked. Only we didn't plan on:

1. an evil GPS, which refused to find the address or park until we had been lost a long time, and were in the general area
2. the fact I only realized I forgot my phone when the GPS would not find our destination
3. we got lost on the wrong side of town. The really wrong side of town....

Short story - I finally delivered the kids at the festival 20 minutes late! Not 20 minutes after registration, but 20 minutes after the dancing was supposed to begin! I had them do some light warming up in the car (a Volkswagen Beetle - so, yeah, not much room in the back there!), and directed them to finish getting dressed (shoes, socks, accessories!). You could hear the panic in their voices ("Are we going to miss it?", to which I did not have a positive answer), but they held themselves together, which helped to hold me together!!!

As we (at long last!) pulled up to the gates of the park, I yelled, "run! run!", and they took off! My guardian angel helped me to find a parking place nearby (a miracle), and I got in to the park to find that the little kids were going first, so they had not missed anything yet! I even had time to put Cupcake's hair into a bun (another miracle, since I am kind of out of practice on that kind of stuff!). They were able to settle down and dance.  Kudos to those two young people, for their fortitude and stamina!

After the Saturday competition, with their medals and ribbons

Ribbons and medals get you free cookies from the Welsh cookie guy! Jealous!!

By the end of the trip, I was more than exhausted. But, I really enjoyed it. Cupcake and the Young Adult are easy travelers together. They are fun to take around! And thanks to ArtGuy, who took a few days off so iIcould take this trip!

Homeschooling, Catholic Schools, and a Whole Lot of Grief

Boy, did Our Sunday Visitor stir up a hornet's nest!

The website recently published an article by Michelle Martin titled "Homeschoolers sometimes at odds with diocese". The article tries to examine the sometimes tenuous relationship between Catholic homeschoolers and their local parishes or diocese. The article raised many questions, but provided inadequate answers. There are so many issues that crop up, it is hard to know where to begin addressing them.

Let me start off by saying, that I am a mother of four, a homeschooling mom of 8 years, a religious education instructor, a writer of religious ed lesson plans, a former Coordinator of Religious Education, and a writer on all of the above. In other words,  I have a lot to say. So much, that I think I will divide this into three separate blogs.

Let us proceed with part one, shall we?



When ____ Freezes Over. Love, The Diocese of Austin, Texas.

First - The article explained how Bishop Vasquez of Austin, TX recently responded to a homeschool group who requested the Bishop attend a mass, blessing the new school year for homeschooling families. The Bishop chose to reply through his Catholic school superintendent, Ned Vanders:

“Bishop Vásquez received your invitation to celebrate a Eucharistic liturgy for the fall home-schooling blessing Mass.Bishop Vásquez believes Catholic education, and in particular Catholic school education, is an essential part of the life of the Diocese of Austin. As you know, Catholic schools are at the heart of the mission of the Church.“Bishop’s presence at the home-schooling Mass would convey a contradictory message equating the importance of Catholic school education with Catholic home schooling; therefore, Bishop Vásquez must respectfully decline the invitation.Sincerely in Christ,Ned F. Vanders, Ed.D.” 

This reply was a tragedy, in many respects.

The Diocese of Austin could not have said it any more clearly. They do not like homeschoolers. A shame, really, because reports are that homeschool life is jumpin' down there!

The problem occurred when the Bishop:
 a) Let someone else make a statement for him. Regardless of the fact it is out of Vanders mouth, we must take it for the Bishop's position. Almost all shepherds in the Church, from the Pope on down to the local pastor, must rely on a group of trusted advisers to help fill in the blanks on issues they may not be well-versed in.
No biggie there.
Perhaps the superintendent of diocesan schools was not the...best... adviser in this matter. It is a shame that the Bishop could not have crafted a reply -simply declining the invitation - himself, or through his secretary.

b) Chose a side. For, through Vanders, Bishop Vasquez pretty much said that the Austin area homeschoolers are a lower Catholic lifeform, and wanted to make that statement in print....on file...for the record! My guess is that Bishop Vasquez really does not know anything about homeschooling, or homeschoolers. (Apparently, he is not even aware that homeschools in Texas are considered private schools. Therefore, Catholic homeschools are mini Catholic schools.)
He missed an opportunity to meet with this group - to get to know this part of his flock, and perhaps to come away with a better idea if homeschooling is a cult (his fear?), an enemy of the modern Church anxious to whisk us back to pre-Vatican II (a bigger fear), or if this is a legitimate form of education that will support and strengthen his diocese, the local parishes, vocations (surely not!) and (gasp!)the Catholic schools.

Bishop Vasquez's reply was very short-sighted and close-minded. And, folks, that is a huge insult for a city who prides itself on hipness and progress. Why make yourself an enemy of homeschoolers? Why draw lines in the sand?

Is the Bishop of Austin the first to chose to short-change Catholic homeschoolers? No. Will he be the last? No. I was told by one Catholic educator (who had the ear of a pastor), "Homeschoolers should stay home, where they belong - that's a part of their name, after all". Homeschoolers face this kind of opposition fairly often.

The best defense? Education (imagine that!)
Bishop Vasquez was ill-advised, and not discerning enough in how the situation was handled. The best way homeschoolers can handle this kind of response - whether from a diocese or a parish - is to remain open and honest, inviting pastors to come and see homeschooling groups, to drop in on coop classes, to say blessings. Perhaps local homeschool associations can form outreach boards, that offer to meet with parishes or the diocese to explain who they are and what they stand for.
And for heaven's sake - stay involved in the parishes! Many think "Catholic homeschoolers", and you load in your head an image of a nice, plain woman in a denim jumper (rosary in pocket), opening the door to her 15-seater van, while children of seemingly every age tumble out like clowns in a circus. The children all speak fluent Latin ("Would you like me to help you translate that, Fr. Smith?"), and they grow (almost) all their own food. The family is polite to a fault, the children have never held a Nintendo DS, and the tv cabinet is only opened for religious programming.

Please let me say that I know families like this! And I love them! All of that is great. But to many people, this is stereotypical homeschooler.  In reality, homeschoolers are all around us, from the chic woman whose children are avid sports jocks, to the gorgeous 40-something whose daughters are ballerinas, to the woman whose children can quote pretty much every episode of Spongebob Squarepants and spot swear words in a cross word puzzle and actively translate Latin into English, (guess which one is me?), these families are schooling at home and remaining active in the parish. The only way you know it is when you ask the kids, "where do you go to school." There is that moment of silence before their eyes twinkle as they reply - "Oh, we homeschool", before they run off to blend in to the crowd.

Homeschoolers, at least in Austin, look like they need to educate the educators!

A Good Saturday

Hello, peeps!

Me, saying hello, while frying in the sun.

Today was the North Texas Scottish Festival and Highland Games, or in other words, The Hottest Scottish Festival on the Earth! We had a scare yesterday, when The Young Adult rolled an ankle during rehearsal. It was sore all night. In the past, he has severely sprained both ankles and broken one ankle, so this injury made him (and me) very nervous. It was hard to strike the right chord between encouraging ("It isn't swollen. I think it is okay.") and freaking out ("Oh my gosh, we are probably going back to the orthopedic doctor! Get out the boot and the crutches! AUGH!"). 

After a competition, I cannot get his songs out of my head!

 This morning The Young Adult could not dance. But he wanted to go watch. So we all piled in the car and headed out to Arlington, TX, about an hour away. We took his outfit. You know......just in case..... and stopped at Walgreen's for two ankle braces....

Checking in. Notice the sturdy brace ("with side supports"!) on the left ankle!

He worked on the ankle after we arrived, and decided he could try the Fling. And lo and behold! He was able to dance! It's a miracle! Well, we were happy, anyway!

The Swords dance make me NERVOUS!

He danced very well. We were super proud of him! He looks so strong up there. But, alas! He did not medal. He came in 4th of 5 in every dance. He was disappointed, but the 4th place was not due to poor dancing on his part. It was an indication of how well his group did, overall.

Cutie and Cupcake totally rocked today! 1st place finishes!

It was really, really hot. Maybe that is a dumb thing to say when we live in Texas, and it is June, but I said it anyway. It was HOT! However, it was about 10 degrees cooler than last year (95 this year; 105 last year). We were all roasted by the time he was done.

Romeo, squinting in the hot sun

Cookie Boy and Monkey, trying to stay cool

It is always fun to see all the people dressed up at these festivals. To hear the bagpipe bands. To see all the cool items for sell (swords, daggers, and haggis, oh my!).

Although the festival was full of delicious food, it was just way too hot to enjoy it. We got The Young Adult his haggis, and headed home. Well, home via Freddy's.

It was like a heavenly sign...

Too tired and hot to like anything, until he scarfed down a grilled cheese and a sundae!

And to crown it all off - the Monkey went poopy in the potty when we got home. Another miracle (not so minor)!

Now all we need to make the weekend complete is for the Mavs to win tomorrow night!

I don't think this is on the South Beach Diet "approved" list. Whoops!

The Lost Generation

My posts on this blog vary, as I write it for my own amusement (and hope like crazy someone other than me perhaps reads it and enjoys it!). Sometimes I write as a mom of 4 boys, sometimes I write as mother-of-the-Monkey, sometimes I write as a homeschooler, and sometimes I write as Christian in general, and sometimes I write more specifically as a Catholic. Or all of the above!

Today is the "Catholic" variety! (Thanks to fr. Jason Cargo for his inspiration for this post!)

I consider myself as part of the "lost generation" of Catholics. We are the ones born and raised in the 1970's, 1980's, and probably the very beginning of the 1990's. We are are the post-Vatican II generation, but born and raised so soon after this major council, that the effects of it were confusing - to say the least, and although most of us were never aware of it (Vatican II being "ancient history" to us), our experience of faith was profoundly influenced by the confusion of the implementing of this Council.

Not that Vatican Council II was bad. So much of it was very, very good. But the changes were not always understood, or were implemented too quickly and without proper preparation. One cannot also discount the "mood of the times", as well. The 1960's and 1970's (and really, the 1980's) were a time of great change, especially in America. The "sexual revolution", the changing workforce, education reforms, economic boom - these all lended to a vast change in the very culture of America. And while one country's particular culture does not change what a Papal Council teaches, it does affect the way in which the teachings are received.

And to a culture where technology and information has been speeding up constantly over decades, the idea that a set of teachings will take decades to understand and plunder is almost... well, almost a medieval thought.

And yet, here we are, around 40 years post-Vatican, still unraveling the meaning of Vatican Council II, still trying to understand how to balance the modern and the dignified past, still trying to grasp how to be in the world and not of the world.

As a consequence of this, my peers and myself who grew up Catholic received a very different religious education than our parents and grandparents. Some of it was good - a lessening of fear and anxiety, and an deeper understanding of God's unfailing love. But sadly, much of it was - in reality - a watered-down version of faith.

I was never educated in Catholic schools until college. I know my major experience of faith formation was "God is love. Draw a picture of God as love". I remember that in almost every single religious ed book from Kindergarten through 7th grade, when I was finally able to quit my parish religious ed class.

I was a spiritually hungry child, who ate up Bible stories and facts (I totally rocked in Bible Baseball). I wanted to know, I ached to experience the fullness of faith. I had some very good religious ed teachers, but the materials given to work with were often....less than fulfilling.

As a result of similar experiences, my generation became lost, spiritually speaking. The Church, not in herself but in the way Vatican II was interpreted, seemed, in many ways, unknowable. A mystery, but not an alluring one. We were not taught enough to be introduced to the wealth of faith and meaning behind what we gathered to do every week. It was a faith experience softened to be compatible with the world.

College blew my mind. I went to Franciscan University of Steubenville. I had no intention of studying theology, but as the teachings of the Church were clearly explained and unfolded before my mind, I began to wake up. This Church that I had committed to, but never really knew, became more and more lovely to my eyes. The history, the rationality, the extreme mysteries of rite and ritual grounded in an earth-shattering logic, the profound love of the dignity of each and every person - these were the things I had hungered for and never knew existed (or perhaps I did know, but only received hints of, and thus I hungered).

Now, as an adult, one of my jobs is to educate parents in a Baptism preparation class. I also am involved in religious education, and am now trying to write for children in a faith setting. I have come to understand my calling as a mission to #1) educate children, but more importantly #2) educate parents.

By educating parents, I mean filling in those gaps of what we missed in our growing up. To give some kind of understanding that faith is all-encompassing. That even rites and rituals have a logical, beautiful flow. To know that there is substance to this faith of ours. Educating children is great, but educating the lost generation is really the goal.

Thanks to Blessed John Paul II, who knew we were lost and who called us by name back into the light. Thanks to the many teachers, educators, priests, and theologians who work tirelessly to find and seek the lost.

Because now the lost generation are parents, raising children in the church. Some of those children are quite young, some are teens and young adults. And they have been taught all their life by the lost generation (and those converts, who burst like fiery comets across the course of our sky). So, even though today's youth have the advantage of the new Catechism and the trickle-down religious ed from its publishing, they have been in the hands of the lost their whole lives.

What is the answer? That is the trillion dollar question. Whole-family catechesis, parish catechesis, cluster groups, faith formation, LifeTeen, and so on - these are but an example of how this question has tried to be addressed. Some work better than others. Some mean well, but fail in form. The Church continues to seek ways to reveal its beauty in a modern way, in a modern voice, but still connected to the past. And above all, not falling into the path of the world.

When Blessed John Paul II called us, we were young. We are no longer young people. I miss his voice. I still hear it -"My good young people, rejoice!". But I now know he was like John the Baptist, meant to show the way, not BE the way. As I am no longer young, it is time to rise up and claim my heritage. A weak spiritual diet may have led to standing on weak legs, but I can feed myself now. Or, I know where to go in order to be fed.

It is time for the lost generation to come forth. "Arise, shine, for your light has come, and the glory of the LORD rises upon you." (Isaiah 60:1). Come and taste the feast prepared for you.

Hello, Summer!

Ahhhh, summer is here. Not officially, of course, but by my school calendar - yes, it is summer!

One of the joys of homeschooling is determining our own schedule. Especially when we rock it out all Memorial Day Weekend, and know we can sleep in on Tuesday!
This year, we are breaking for about a month, then having a little summer school to finish up whatever did not get done.

My plans for the summer:

• clean the house ("clean" is a relative term, but the end of the school year usually means a slide into messiness. So, time to regroup and return the house into some semblance of order).
• swim - lots and lots!
• write...something....
• potty train the Monkey
• get the Monkey to sleep in his own room
• just have fun!

Yup, that about does it for me!

Happy summer!

It Looks So Good

This past weekend, I was able to travel to Minnesota, to be a sponsor to my oldest niece as she became Confirmed. It was a beautiful ceremony at the Basilica in Minneapolis. The whole visit was enjoyable. I have never seen my older brother's home (although they have been there about 15 years - shame on me!), which is in a gorgeous neighborhood around a lake. Of course the best part was just being with my brother, sister-in-law, nephew, and nieces. I even got to see my 12-year-old niece, Grace, perform in a choir concert and a piano recital!


The not-so-fun part? The flights there and back! Both involved a good amount of turbulence (which makes me ill), and both were affected by storms. We arrived in Minnesota in between thunderstorms (that eventually brought tornadoes) and we came back home hours before big storms (that dropped 8 tornadoes!).

As we were bouncing along the jetstream, I was thinking about what we would look like from the ground. I live close to a regional airport, and only about 30 or 40 minutes from the big airport, so we see plenty of planes around our house. They glide gracefully through the sky.

Or at least they look graceful from the ground, and they look like they are gliding from thousands of feet away. But sitting in my bouncing airplane this weekend, I pondered on the fact that things are not always what they seem. What looks like a smooth ride from a distance, can in reality be bumpy turbulence. 

Sometimes we look at our lives, and we know the turbulence we experience on a daily basis - what crosses we carry, what vices we fight, what heartaches we bear. In between smooth stretches of peace, we are jostled by the disturbances we experience, wondering if it will smooth back out or if this time will be the time we go into a tailspin.

Looking at the lives of others can become a distraction.  We wish we could have a life like that (that easy, that successful, that well-off, that fulfilling, that you-name-it). Some people seem to have it so easy, don't they.

Don't they?

Every life has a story. Every heart has its burdens. Every person is touched by tragedy and difficulty of some kind. No one ever gets a smooth ride in life, from beginning to end. There will always be turbulence. Even if it is not noticeable to others.

Just remember, next time you start to wish for someone else's life - go out and watch a few planes!

"No"

"No" is a very powerful word.

"Is it life-threatening?" - "No".

"Did I pay that bill late?" - "No."

"Do you want fries with that?" - "No."

The Monkey (formerly known as the Mad Toddler) wields the word "no" like a shield - for defensive purposes, to allow the verbal assaults of his family members to bounce off his small consciousness into the inoffensive atmosphere around his tousled head.

Earlier this week, we (the Monkey and I) were cuddling up at bedtime, reading his new book about big trucks. It should have been a golden moment. Only, I had to go and ruin it all! The Monkey has this thing about my hair - my hair is his security blanket (which explains a lot about the reasons why he is rooming with ArtGuy and me). When tired, sick, or just needing a little comfort, he wraps his hands in my hair (even if it is in a ponytail - ouch!). This is also a part of our bedtime routine. So, this particular night, we were reading all about big rigs, the Monkey's hands woven in and around my hair, when he had the misfortune to sneeze.

Little kids, when they sneeze, automatically pull their arms in towards their bodies. I learned this when my oldest nephew, Petey (now 20) was an infant. I laid him on the floor and hung over him, playing peek-a-boo. He grabbed my long hair in both his hands, and sneezed....hard..... I have never forgotten the pain involved, but I obviously relaxed my guard the other night.

The Monkey sneezed - "Ac-hoo!" - and just about ripped my hair resting in his left hand out of my scalp. I yelped. It was an automatic reaction. It just....dang....hurt!

I quickly laughed, to prove to the Monkey that I was not angry or mad, and said something like, "Silly Mommy yelled when you pulled her hair, but everything is fine now!"

Only everything was not fine now.

The Monkey stared defiantly at me, refusing to "curl" my hair again. I though the best way to handle it all was just to keep reading and let it blow over. The Monkey had no intention of letting it go. He shows his displeasure with one small word....

Me: This is a tractor.

Monkey: No it's not

Me: It has big wheels

Monkey: No, it doesn't

Me: It is as tall as three children


Monkey: No, it's not.

Me: Farmers use tractor to dig up fields.

Monkey: No, they don't.

Me: (turning page) This is a cement truck.

Monkey: No, it's not

Me: It has many parts - the hopper...

Monkey: No

Me: ...the chute...

Monkey: No

Me: ...the exhaust pipe...

Monkey: No

Me: ...the drum

Monkey: No

Ad infinatum - for about 10 more pages! I just kept reading to see how long he would keep it up. He is relentless.

The Monkey also uses the word no as an indication of a state of denial when he encounters something unpleasant. For example, any mention of potty-training. Case-in-point - our conversation this afternoon:

Me: Why are you hiding?

Monkey: The bike needs to go poopy.

Me: I think you need to go poopy - not the bike. Why don't you go poopy in the potty?

Monkey: No.

Me: I will buy you a toy.

Monkey: No.

Me: A car?

Monkey: No.

Me: A pony?

Monkey: No.

Me: Real estate?

Monkey: No.

Me: You are a big boy now. Big boys use the potty.

Monkey: No, they don't.

Me: Sure they do! Romeo uses the potty.

Monkey: No, he doesn't.

Romeo: Yes, I do!

Monkey: No.

Me: Romeo goes poopy in the potty.

Monkey: No, he doesn't. 

Me: Yes, he does. He doesn't wear diapers. Isn't that right, Romeo.

Romeo: That's right! I wear underpants.

Monkey: No, you don't.


The Monkey does not surrender. He continues his barrage of the negative until the unpleasant subject has been dropped.

It is quite impressive, what he can convey with one, small, two-letter word.

I would tell him that only he would just say,

"No."