Parents, Teacher, Students, Values, and Censorship

I'm pretty sure I need to bid farewell to children's literature. Teaching it to undergrads becomes a problem for me when what the text is doing is second to how the text is used in the classroom, and when the text's purpose--that is, how it wants the reader to respond to it--conflicts with my values as a parent. Especially since all they ever want to talk about is the text's usefulness for talking about something other than the text.

Over and over again, I see and hear discussions of who has a right--and it is always discussed in terms of rights--to decide what is taught in the classroom. On the one hand, I teach books, so I uphold my own right to decide this. But I have a degree in my subject field--not an education degree--and I teach literature, not "opening children's minds to the reality of life" and "encouraging children to actively question the values of their parents," which is apparently the goal of reading and literature classes on the elementary, middle, and high school levels. I wonder to myself when "intellectually challenging" became conflated with "controversial" or "socially and politically relevant"--there does not seem to be much distinction. This must mean that Shakespeare, Dante, and Homer are no longer intellectually challenging, and no teenager is going to get as much of a thrill from Grendel's mother, Ophelia's death, or the Cyclops's eye as from some hot, steamy sex scene in a third-rate historical novel. That's not dumbing down the curriculum, apparently, that's making it "relevant." Did you know that a rape scene automatically makes a text "relevant"? It's true. So romance-novel readers rejoice.

Yes, this is a rant, in part. Because "censorship" is a term that is bantered about irresponsibly. Am I in favor of censorship? No. Am I afraid to expose my child to challenging topics? No. Do I think I know better than the average teacher of elementary, middle, or high school what is appropriate and challenging for my child's grade level? Um. . . Yes. But that's beside the point, really.

I have a few major concerns about the selection of books for gradeschool curricula:

1. First, the idea that to get students "interested" you have to have something that's forbidden in some way, or something that ties DIRECTLY into some contemporary "issue" that we're all supposed to care about.
2. Second, the idea that because kids "will be exposed to this anyway," teachers are obligated or justified in making it the subject of class discussion, analysis, and inquiry.
3. The idea that kids "can handle it." Kids can handle a lot. They are resilient. Does that mean we need to thrust it upon them?
4. The notion that parents want to limit children to their own (parents' own) values and thereby prevent children from figuring things out for themselves.

The last is by far the most significant. I actually saw it stated in exactly that way in a children's lit textbook geared for education majors as an answer to why books are challenged or censored. It represents the extreme arrogance of teachers and education majors in dealing with parents and children. It shows a disregard for the parent as well as the child. The child, this suggests, should intentionally be sent mixed messages so that s/he can, from a relative "blank slate" position, build up his/her own worldview from the pieces. How can that be a good thing? As parents, if we do not monitor our children, know what they are reading, how they are getting along in school, then we are bad and uninvolved, and have no room to complain. But if we foster in them a certain way of viewing the world around them, and wish for them to understand the world from the position of our own values first, while they are young and open to our instruction, before they evaluate these values from the vantage point of greater personal experience, we are also bad.

I don't want to keep them sheltered from the world, but I do want to give them a solid foundation without someone presenting a worldview that is contrary and asserting it over the one I struggle to instill. Exposure to ideas is one thing; asserting certain ideas over others is something else. So much has to do with the context in which something is introduced. And since I can't control the context in which a teacher presents something, and since at-home "damage control" pits me against the teacher and invites my child to take sides, I would like to have some consideration shown to me and my RIGHT to instill my values in my child when the teacher is selecting the books to be taught in a class. There is plenty of room for challenging, stimulating material without pissing off the parents. I see nothing wrong with parents suggesting that a book be substituted for another, depending on the book and the context. If I were teaching a book that fictionalized and dramatized aspects of Pope John Paul II's Theology of the Body at a public high school, would I be subject to censorship? How about if I taught a novel about a boy who struggled with his impulses toward homosexuality, only to decide on chastity, convert to Catholicism, and become a priest? Surely, this would not be tolerated in a public school. I would venture to say that such a book would be called dangerous and hate-filled. Such things will never *be* presented as alternate views. But why should the assumption of casual sex be touted as exposure to multiple viewpoints? I see no multiple voices. Only the reinforcement of the messages from society, media, advertising. Somehow, these are not questioned. Secular does not equal sexual. The sex lives of young people are fetishized by the media, the publishing industry, and teachers.

But I'm not sure this is really about sex for me. It's just the easiest way to talk about it. It's about teachers' disrespect for parents. Why should a parent's theoretical/anticipated position on curricula be demeaned in a textbook? And why should a teacher's worldview or talentless, lame attempt to stimulate discussion through shock be labeled as progressive and enlightened? And what is it about children that makes teachers want to "expose them to life"? Experience is lived for a reason. Context often dictates what we must do in response to a situation, and how we must cope. Books can help with this. Until the books are used to dictate a correct, "valid" response for everyone. Or to directly contradict certain ways of living life. Or to promote certain lifestyle choices as preferable to others. Then, we might have issues. And I might ask that you reconsider your syllabus. Because then it's about your agenda, not my child's mental development. When they turn 18 or enter college (whichever comes first), then challenge them to think about what they believe. I should have done my job by then. But make sure you respect them even then, if the answers they give are intelligent and well-reasoned.

And in the meantime, tell me. . . Why are rape and (pre-)teen sex more "relevant" than cultural concepts of hospitality? Death and dying? The individual in society? Human pursuit of the divine?

Christian Parents and Pre-Teen Guides to Sex

I've been in hibernation lately, I know. I do spend more time than I should online, but as I've mentioned before, I'm trying to limit myself to the sort of fleeting thoughts that lend themselves to Facebook status updates, and channel the complex meditative asides into something that might pass as academically productive. We'll see how that works out.

[For fear of Google, I have comment moderation on]

Recently, however, we encountered some issues with my son (now 12) that necessitated the opening of a pretty weighty subject--how to address topics related to sexuality in an informative, sex-positive, yet Catholic Christian context. And, well, I want him to have a book or books to turn to when curiosity arises and he doesn't necessarily feel like getting a parental lecture--because too often, I think, we give too much information and bore the heck out of him, truthfully. . . So while we are open to questions, and correct misperceptions or misbehavior, explain when necessary, I think a good book is a good thing to have. But where to go? He's younger than the target age for the Theology of the Body for Teens resources, and most of the Catholic resources that I've seen for younger ages address the spiritual aspects of where babies come from, and feelings of love, etc. Basically, I wasn't finding much actual information about anatomy, biological functions, adolescence--you know, the basics! Perhaps I wasn't looking in the right places, but I'm pretty good at looking, and I wasn't finding. So I looked at the mainstream/secular resources, which of course, went in the opposite direction.

I believe that even if I *wanted* to affirm, promote, and emphasize use of birth control, as I would have at one point but do not now, I would still think that 12 is too young. He knows that birth control exists. Last year, he asked me whether there was a kind of medicine that a woman could take to prevent her from having a baby. I said yes, there was, and explained the Church's position on contraception in basic terms. At this stage, I don't want a book that details the various methods of contraception, though I am not--by any means--opposed to his learning about them. I will, of course, let him know our beliefs and the reason for those beliefs when the subject arises. He will make his decisions based on the information and moral guidance that we give to him, without the information being omitted.

The non-religious reference books on sexuality for youth that I found biologically informative and generally well-written also introduced and affirmed every type of sexual practice and lifestyle choice without any reference to the fact that not all lifestyle choices are condoned by all religions or *gasp!* parents. The books made it clear that these are exclusively personal matters and constructed implied child reader as independent from the beliefs and wishes of his/her parents. Basically, they provided an initiation into the happy utopia of adult sexuality. Ugh! You have no responsibility to anyone but yourself, so use protection and follow your impulses. Ugh! There was some stuff for girls about not being taken advantage of, some advice to empower girls to say no, but the overall message was that yes was good, too. Hence, the religious objection to sex ed: it not only provides information, it presents a certain world view and attitude toward sexuality that is largely self-serving and does not acknowledge that there may be other contexts for understanding human sexuality. This was not my experience of sex education, and I believe that this is because the average teacher of biology is not necessarily comfortable with promoting sexual practices to pre-teens or teens. There are, of course, exceptions, as the famous "condom-on-a-banana" anecdotes demonstrate. "Health" teachers might be a little more suspect. . .

So I admit that I do want to avoid the "You Might Be Gay--and It's Okay!" chapters. First, because however early homosexual feelings do appear, to confront and affirm them too early may lead to reckless lifestyle choices that are not informed by the wisdom and maturity of age. I would have scoffed to hear myself say such things when I was 17 (and a sophomore in college), but I can look back and see how my attitudes toward sexuality, which I developed largely on my own, matured over many years. Second, I want the Catholic version, that says, "You might be gay, and it's okay, because that's how God made you; but understand that the Church teaches that homosexual acts are inherently sinful, and you are called as a Catholic Christian to live according to this teaching. It may be that this is your cross to bear, and that you are called to a celibate life, and a life of service to others. This may be your special calling." I know it's unpopular. I have friends who are openly gay and live homosexual lifestyles, and they are dear friends, and I love them, but I have to acknowledge the teaching of my faith--which they do not share--in the instruction of my children, and my faith says that ALL lustful inclinations, ALL intercourse outside of the sanctity of marriage, and even some intercourse within the sanctity of marriage, is sinful. Men who aren't married, women who aren't married, homosexual and heterosexual--all are called to celibacy. Meanwhile, ALL people are called to chastity. It's a hard thing, so please don't blame me for it. I understand it and accept it, and will teach it to my children, as I am called to do.

Point is, of course, you're not going to find a book that says any of this. And with the Christian books, it's difficult to find a book that presents Christian teaching on alternative lifestyles sympathetically. Because taking something as a matter of faith, accepting and promoting an unpopular, politically incorrect teaching about sexuality, does not mean that you have to bulldoze through it and dismiss the feelings of those most intimately affected by the teaching. It does not mean that at all. So the book that had a table of contents arranged by "Thou Shall Nots"?--Uh uh. Not for me.

But, I did find some good books--two, to be exact. I apologize for making you read to the end of this to discover what they were. First, there was the "icebreaker"--the funny book, and to date, the only one of the two that my son has read (that he's admitted, anyway). It is called Lintball Leo's Not-so-Stupid Questions about Your Body. Published by ZonderKids, it is specifically geared towards boys, but there is one for girls, which I found first, and thought, "I wish there was one like this for boys!" and then looked on the next shelf. It provides information, does not insult the intelligence, does not preach, but does couch the physical, biological, and social questions that accompany puberty in a context that acknowledges nondenominational belief in God. Any divergences from Catholic teaching are very, very small--for example, it doesn't necessarily say that masturbation is a sin, but it does say that masturbation could become a part of sinful behavior or behavior patterns. The parent's objection to this statement could vary one way or another.

The second book I found had more information about sex--it read more like the mainstream sex ed books for teens/pre-teens in terms of what topics it covered, albeit from a Christian perspective. Again, I did not find the Christianity too prohibitive (that is, prohibitive in terms of "thou shall nots"), but do consider that I was looking for a minimally didactic book explaining sexuality within a Christian context. The book is titled, Sex and the New You, and is part of the Learning About Sex series published by Concordia Publishing House that is intended for children in various stages of curiosity about their bodies. The particular title I purchased is "For Young Men ages 13-15"--again, gender specific. There is a girls' version, and the difference is in the anatomical and social emphases. Each gender's version has a chapter relating to the anatomical features of and changes being experienced by the other, so the chapter "About Girls and Women" discussed female anatomy including menstruation--and has a drawing of a naked lady, to boot! And the glossary includes "clitoris"! ;) Emphasis is on respecting the bodies of others as well as yourself. I picked the age 13-15 volume because the younger volume was mostly centered on reproduction, and that was not the issue at hand. We were ready for a more mature set of subjects. But there is even a volume for ages 4-6, in picture book format, though I only noted it with passing interest. They are marketed as part of a home school or Christian school curriculum, or for individual use. The use of Bible verses was more extensive, but very tastefully done. I was less impressed with the title that was one "stage" down (all about reproduction), but each book has a different author, and it may well have been because it was not what I was looking for at the time. Still, I debated before choosing one over the other. Very occasionally, I disagree with generalizations about gender roles, but in general this is handled very well. The chapter on differences between men and women emphasizes that physical differences do not dictate differences in ability.

So that was a learning experience for me a couple of weeks ago, and hopefully yielded some information that will be helpful to others--and maybe I also provided some insight into what concerns Christian parents have about teaching sex ed to their kids. ;)

My Baby Has a Complex

My Chiclette, who is now 1 year (as of November 4), seems to be getting the idea that she plays second fiddle to her sister, who is now 3 (as of October 6), mainly because, up to this point, Doodle has been the "high maintenance" one. As Doodle becomes more cooperative and willing to follow directions--but not much less demanding of my time, since she has been known to respond to Chiclette's cries, whines and wails by promptly claiming her place on my lap!--Chiclette fills in the gap. Although Chiclette has begun diving from the arms of whoever is holding her, lunging toward me in desperation, and snuggling into my shoulder, she is almost entirely unwilling to let me rock her to sleep! Her daddy rocks her to sleep; my sister rocks her to sleep. Even my younger brother--who is 13--was able to put her to sleep one night! But she fights me and fights me, whether nap or bedtime, but clearly WANTS me. And I completely lack patience. It is a symptom of juggling too many thoughts, concerns and efforts all at once. I have rarely nursed her without a computer in front of me. She nurses still--though infrequently (often not infrequently enough for my short attention span)--and has taken to clicking the button on my trackpad while nursing! Unlike Doodle, who didn't care what else I was doing, so long as I had her on my lap--or so long as she could get into it--Chiclette seems genuinely annoyed that her birth order and (previously) easy disposition means, frequently, that she waits a bit for my attention and the fulfillment of her needs. I didn't come to this conclusion all at once. I have been noticing that she seems conflicted about whether she is ready to wean, though she is drinking milk and yogurt, and eating as many meals a day as she can get from us--and though I am very ready. I am aware, also, of my increasing agitation with her clinginess, something I remember from the final days (months) of nursing Doodle, though it extends to times when she is not nursing, but is nervously rubbing her hands on my neck, etc.--a sweet gesture, if it wasn't so insistent!! Nursing my son was never like this, somehow. The girls seem to be using nursing as a way to commandeer my attention in a way that he--well, never needed to do, both because he was the first and because life was simpler back then! So it has been a concern to me that Chiclette won't go to sleep for me--at least without a fight, though she sleeps for others, as I have mentioned. Last night was bad, but today was worse. She was almost asleep once and woke when I received a phone call, then ABSOLUTELY would not go back to sleep. I was even moved to leave her in her bed crying for a bit--something I never do. So I brought her out to play for a while and eat before I had to try again, this time with Doodle along also, which is the norm at night (though that is seeming less advisable lately). This time, I had the task of figuring out what to do with both of them, as Doodle is still rocked to sleep. Doodle was very ready to settle down, but Chiclette was less so. She struggled and fidgeted and struggled, even when I had her more settled and Doodle asleep on my lap. The only way I could get her to settle down was to sing a song with her name as the main lyric. I sang her name and she looked me in the eye and relaxed immediately. No more fidgeting. And finally, she let herself sleep, content that Momma was finally, finally, focusing attention on her alone.

Grumpiest Momma in the World

-or- Why Doesn't Lysol Make a Body Spray??

I have been babysitting a friend's children, ages 3, 5, and 13 mos. on Monday and Tuesday while she teaches, from about 9:15 to 11:45 A.M. I alternate between feeling like this is a real challenge, and that it is pretty cool. I have those "losing my mind" moments. My days of watching 5-7 children at one time are long gone, and while none of the children were mine (they were cousins and siblings), they were known entities, and I was familiar with the dynamic between them all. There is a difference watching non-related children! On the other hand, it is really not difficult, just busy, and there is something vaguely comforting to know that there are kids all over one's house playing.

So on Tuesday, she proposed lunch. Now, I was raised by a mother who avoided playplaces like the plague. In fact, she avoided them in part because of the plague. And if we ever did venture into places like Chuck-e-Cheese's, she knew that (although the kids were certain to get sick afterward) at least I was there to make sure they weren't lost or trampled. So I am a total germophobe. I am deeply suspicious of other children--ones whose parents I don't know. And I am not thrilled with play area precipices and climbing walls and giant tubes that swallow up toddlers. I can't do like so many parents and "let the kids play," particularly when I don't know the kids in question. So I end up watching my own child and monitoring every body else's. This makes for a very stressed momma. I don't think my son went on public play equipment until he was 6. I may exaggerate, but not much.

Now, my friend is very laid-back with this sort of thing. Because of her, I have taken Doodle to a "splash park" (for a birthday party)--unfortunately, my friend's mother will forever think of me as "the one with the little girl who ran and ran and it took three of them to keep track of her." I have taken Doodle to a children's museum with my friend, who laughed while I trailed my too-young-for-most activities toddler. I have taken Doodle to an egg hunt with other kids AND let her play on playground equipment. And, finally, I have taken her to McDonald's. *sigh* It is because of this friend that "fry" was among Doodle's first words!! It's a good influence, in a way. I have been venturing to parks (especially sparsely populated ones) with my three lately, and I am not sooooo paranoid. . . But I still find these situations incredibly stressful.

So we went to McDonald's. With a HUUUUUGE play area. And, as my husband points out, those things really aren't cleaned. At least with outside equipment, the sun is beating down on them, and rain, and some germs are cleaned off. Gee, thanks, hon. Have I mentioned that he & I think a lot alike? ;)

This McD's is newer (hence, cleaner) than some. It has separate (though not divided) areas for ages 3 and under and for bigger kids. When we got there, after eating, the place was positively overrun, and yet many kids had left while we were eating (!!). Being with someone else means that you can't turn tail and run, however, unless the other person shares your particular brand of paranoia.

The first thing I did--before putting down the baby in the carseat--was run the 7-13 year olds (who were using it for "base"--and that means "recipe for rowdiness") off of the toddler area. I asked them, "How old are you? Then leave this part for the smaller kids!" I asked on little boy of 6 or 7, "Are you 3 years old? No? Then go play over there!" People thought I was insane, but no one could argue. A parent or two came over to see what the crazy lady was up too, and why she didn't leave the other kids alone. After surveying the situation, they instructed the older ones to keep to the other area. Then, I just had to make sure no one ran UP the toddler slide, careening into descending toddlers.

A few little girls were being more calm, so I relaxed my vigilance, although they were older. They took an interest in the toddlers and set up "house" on the toddler side. One took Doodle for a "walk" to an area where a video game had once been, and I followed (and was advised by other mothers that there was no outlet there--yeah, but some little girl has my toddler by the hand!!) I had to interfere with the game (predictably, perhaps) when "house" became a bit too aggressive. Seems they had to prevent her from going down the slide as "discipline" because she wouldn't listen to them. I set them straight. Fast. "Ummm, no. She's my little girl and she doesn't have to listen to you. She is too young for this kind of game. Move aside so she can slide." I was always the playground crusader for justice--the "we don't have to play your game if it involves paying money to go down the slide" kind of kid. Yeah, the stick-in-the-mud.

I did fuss at a boy of about 13 who had been playing rowdy and bounded onto the toddler set, but he was going to check on his little sister of about 18 months. So I said I was sorry, and felt a bit foolish, but when we got there, he was one of the ones I had to kick off.

The moment I relaxed my vigilance and talked to another mother, Doodle either escaped to the "big" side, or little girls "grounded" her. But she had a good time (and had her clothes changed and was wiped down with Baby Magic before her nap) and only my son was conscious of his mother's hyper-attentiveness (which she has imparted successfully to him, but more so. . .) You've never seen an 11-year-old so disapproving. Except me. But I'm trying to encourage him to have fun and leave the worrying to me! And maybe worry less myself in the process. Or not. . . There are definite benefits to keeping an eye one's children in public spaces.

The Politics of Baby Dolls

I was thinking--why is it that little children sleep with baby dolls? Don't they know that sleeping with babies is dangerous? Pillows and covers and parental warmth & such increase the risk of suffocation, and we should take the baby dolls away from the little ones at bedtime so that they learn this important lesson about child care--after all, that's what playing with dollies is all about. Right?

I started thinking about this as my toddler, who has Christened her baby doll "Baby B. . ." (named for her sister), made a playhouse out of my cardboard cutting board and filled it with pillows, then snuggled down with "Baby B. . ." There is a lot of banter out there about children's toys and gender rolls. I didn't withhold baby dolls from my son, he just wasn't interested. And even for Doodle, Buzz Lightyear and Pokemon get equal time with the dollies, not to mention Legos and blocks. Am I an irresponsible academic parent if I admit that the issue doesn't interest me at all? That I played with Barbies and wasn't even remotely traumatized by it? That I want Barbie to have a big bust and small waist like she used to because she looks better that way? (Just don't get me started on Bratz and Disney Princesses--ugh!)

Anyway, I was thinking "Awwww, she must be thinking about how [Chiclette] sleeps with us sometimes!" But well, sleeping with baby dolls is pretty universal, no? It seems to give the same kind of comfort as a stuffed animal, according to the child's preference, regardless of the sleeping arrangements of the child's family, and no one really questions when a child plays with a stuffed animal. So should we accept that an anthropomorphic toy, identifiable with the most vulnerable stage of the species, offers equal comfort to a small child as a cuddly bunny rabbit? There is a case to be made that caring for the dolly is modeled behavior, possibly gendered, maybe socially conditioned--I can talk the talk, you know (also learned behavior). But what about cuddling? Is that learned or instinctual? Yes--the child learns to display affection based on the affection shown to him or her. But beyond that? What about the object that is chosen as suitable for cuddling? (Doodle's preferences change nightly, daily, hourly. . .)

Consider this: Children's preferences for toys to cuddle are impulsive, subject to a myriad of whims, learning opportunities and emotional variations that as adults we have left behind and so can't even begin to understand. Yet, children see the image of a baby as equally cuddly and comforting as, say, a puppy dog. And yet there are adults who would see no contradiction in considering a dog a more fitting, loving, desirable, and comforting companion than a baby. Might we learn something in this area from our children? That while we care for our children, and they depend on us, they are also a source of comfort for us. We hope in and because of them. We feel ourselves to be loved by them, and fulfill ourselves in loving them. The same could be said to apply to moms or dads, if the truth were known.

I'm sure by now everyone is aware of the unfortunate, horrific story out of Austria about the girl who was kept by her father in an underground bunker, repeatedly raped, abused, impregnated. Most of the emphasis has--rightly, I think--been on the inconceivable (to most) evil of the man's actions. But in all of the discussion and coverage, I was amazed at the strength of the woman, to have survived all of the abuse, in the most seemingly hopeless of circumstances. Why did she not give up? Why did she continue to exist? And how did she endure repeated pregnancies stemming from that abuse? Think of the two most oft-cited reasons for permitting abortion: rape and incest. Both present in this case. But we have no evidence that she resented her poor children--trapped in the dungeon-apartment as she was. I am certain that she had to have clung to a faith in God, first of all. But I also feel certain that her children were an unimaginable comfort--that she clung to them instinctively as the only source of love in her dark world.

How Do We Love Them?

Each time I have contemplated having another baby, the thought has struck me: how is it possible that I should love another child as much as I love this one? Each of my children has been an incredible--amazing!--emotional investment: all of the hopes, fears, worries, joyful moments, new experiences, anxieties. . . For years, I wasn't certain that I could have another baby and love him or her as much as I loved my son--fertility wasn't the issue, but love. The thought seemed strange. At the risk of sounding cliché, it was becoming Catholic that opened my mind to the possibility that I could, indeed, have another baby to love, with whom to share all of our family experiences--but that's another post. The same thoughts surfaced when I was pregnant for number three--I was still in the midst of the intense, anxious infant-to-toddler love; my son had had years of my love (and I had had years to love only him with wonderful and difficult mother-love) and seemed much more self-sufficient by the time his sister was born. But however many babies we have, there are always new things to be learned, and I've been thinking about how we love our growing families. . .

We love them all in their different ways--that seems obvious. Each has a different personality, different needs. But while that is true, there are ways that we love them that are the same--or similar--for each child, which nevertheless vary according to where we are with them at the time.

We love them in the midst of the group dynamic: When older brother is able to pick up the youngest, we smile to see his delicate manipulation of her soft floppiness. When he is able to negotiate the various compromises of toddler interaction to give Momma time to take a shower, we are grateful. And amid our exasperation from the noise and commotion it generates, we love to see his horseplay with the little sisters because of the affection it betrays. There is a communication between the baby and the toddler that is amazing to see. . . We love the nicknames that one bestows on the other. And the thrill that is apparent when little sister catches sight of her big sister reverberates through us, and we echo her joy.

We also love them in ways that are (st)age-appropriate: Babies, we adore. This is why we celebrate Christmas, no? That this instinctual love that humans are meant to feel for the smallest and most helpless of our race--the rapt emotional embrace that requires no act of our will--should be transferred to our Lord and Savior. We love them in our recognition of the newness of their actions and their experiences--in our observation of the novelty of their interactions with their senses, their bodies, their families, their worlds. Even amid sweet frustrations, we love their recognition of ourselves--who we are to them--and love their needs, which we alone fulfill. We love their cries and fussiness, and dwell on the sweet sounds that we know we can soothe, or else we love them with anxiety, holding them until their discomfort passes.

Toddlers, we love with tolerance and a sense of adventure. We love them with a wry twinkle, appreciating their cleverness as they demonstrate to us that we can't sneak anything past them--not an open door, not a single piece of chocolate. We love them when we follow their routines--never ever coming in the front door when we come home, but heading around the building to play by the porch. We love them when we "see down" to play with legos or blocks instead of doing that very important thing that we should be doing. And when we repeat with wonder that word or phrase that we've just heard for the first time, or smile at that thing that they shouldn't be doing but which is a very big accomplishment, we give them our love. By letting the baby cry or fuss just a little bit longer to attend to the needs of the toddler, we are loving them in a way that really matters. In every delicate frustration we endure--even if not so well--or turn into a rowdy game, in every single effort to divert attention from that one forbidden or harmful thing, we love them. We love them as we share our tasks with them, even if we can accomplish them better alone. We love them when we hold them like the babies they still are, enjoying their affection whenever it happens to present itself.

In all of their seeming independence and hidden vulnerability, we love our older ones--our "pre-teens," though that term is speeding them on to a stage they have not yet reached--in ways that are subtle, but special. It may mean popping in to comment on a particularly well-played cello piece, suggesting that something is not quite right with a certain note, or asking about the piece being played. In our attentions to what is important to them, we love them. It may mean listening--at least for a little while--to the narrative of "how I beat the last video game boss." We love them when we laugh at their jokes--even the really corny ones. We love them when we accept the help they give us rather than dwelling on the help that was not given. We love them when we answer their questions honestly and carefully, giving neither too much information, nor too little. We love them by walking beside them sometimes, not always in front.

We love them all by remembering all of the ways we love them, as often as possible.

Not so Bad After All. . .

FYI--Things have been going well on the 10-year old front through the weekend. I believe there might have been some misunderstanding and embarrassment making the disrespect seem worse than it was. So when my mother departs, we will discuss things further, but a lesser punishment (or an earlier reprieve) may be in order. However, the threat of present confiscation has produced a more conscientious child. Maybe he & I are okay after all! However, there have been lessons learned all around about how your words and actions influence how you are perceived as a person. And about balancing honesty with tact, for want of a better word!

Pre-Teen Discipline Strategies. . .

I've mentioned before that I've been having ten-year old trouble (and toddler trouble. . . in fact, I seem always to be complaining about something). It is escalating into almost 11-year old trouble. Not even the pre-Christmas threats seemed to make a temporary impression. Admittedly, we have had some special circumstances over the past several weeks. My brother has been staying with us until my mom could come back up from Louisiana, and they are 2 1/2 years apart. My brother also has rather a challenging personality. So they did tire of each other's company. But my son has adopted the attitude that he is better than everyone everywhere--an attitude he likely gets from his parents, both from our example and from messages we have given him. He is unkind to his sister, his uncle, and disrespectful to his parents and (especially) to my mother. This has me perplexed. I am a lot of things, but I always show respect to my mother and family and others' parents in particular. Basically, I am respectful to those whom I consider deserving of that respect, or to whom I am expected to show respect. I know, I've just incriminated myself. But I have always tried to teach him to be respectful. I have also always considered him very empathetic. Not so. In fact, he has very little regard for others' feelings, especially his sister's and my mother's. Now, my own siblings are very disrespectful towards my mother, but I have never been. I have, however, been honest--too honest, I now believe--with my critiques of teachers in particular. I felt like I should be honest with him about what I felt were their shortcomings so that he did not feel like teachers were always right. I have, in short, created a monster, and it is coming back to bite me. Perhaps I was too young to know the consequences of these child-rearing choices and attitudes towards others, though my intentions were good--I have mellowed in the past few years in particular, especially since becoming Catholic. But I am left with a problem child who can please when it suits him and he needs to put on a show--or at least that's how I feel, and what my mother thinks. There are certainly those who tell me that he is a good child. I have always wanted to believe that--and have been successful. After all, I have been defending his existence in my mind since he was conceived. But I am no longer sure. Yesterday, he acted and spoke to my mother--currently my house guest--in a way that suggested that he had an authority in my house that was above hers. And then, as damage control, he gave me a significantly slanted version of the story. In the process, he has lost all of his Christmas gifts, including his brand-new iPod Nano, his one big present. Christmas Eve I was lamenting his behavior and feeling unenthusiastic about giving him presents. He has disappointed me greatly, but my standards are high--not impossibly so, but high. I don't expect him to be any more than I was at his age: helpful, respectful, responsible, generous. I spent $61 on a fundraiser for orchestra in November so that he could get a free candle. I thought he would give it as a present. He did not. Heavily pregnant, I made a pair of pants for his Halloween costume in an afternoon. He expressed no gratitude. A few months ago, I was able to buy the one thing he wanted most for Christmas--a Nintendo Wii. I bought one on the spot when I happened upon them at Target. I kept it overnight and returned it the next morning. There were many reasons for the return--cost, not wanting fights over the television, thinking the living room was too small, dreading the toddler's frustrated attempts to play, not wanting to feed the obsession. But had he been better behaved these past few months, most of those things would have been overlooked. See? Santa doesn't give naughty children the same consideration. That iPod was a luxury, though, and I debated whether it was appropriate. It was at least more "serious."

I hate posting things like this, really. Such posts leave out the big picture. Unfortunately, the bad attitude has clouded my perception of a host of positives, including his near straight-A grades, his loving moments (which are only moments, and are select), and his occasional willing help (which is too infrequent), much as his arrogance about his cello-performance clouds (in my mind) his accomplishments (the line between pride and arrogance is painfully thin). I hope that all who read this, in particular the bloggers we will soon meet, do not judge him (or me) too harshly. I only post this now because of my proposed resolution. . .

Because this was a serious offense, we debated about punishment. Taking away treasured things or privileges for a set period of time (or indefinitely) is ineffective--he simply waits out the punishment with little attempt at reform. Guilt is temporarily effective. I hate to use the Church and Sacraments as a child-rearing crutch, though I was thinking that weekly confessions might not be out of order. What else is there? Well, I don't like the rhetorical strategy of saying, "I prayed for an answer," but, well, I did. I had already decided to take away the Christmas gifts, but for how long? And what would be accomplished besides causing hurt and resentment? I found a web page that suggested rewards for positive behavior. It sparked an idea: He will earn the return of the gifts--slowly, through acts of kindness, generosity, respect, responsibility, and reparation. I plan to make a chart listing the items and how many stars will be required to earn an item. At the end of the day, his efforts will be analyzed collectively, and stars may (or may not) be awarded. I do not anticipate a star every day. In this way, the items will be recovered through his own efforts, and the behavior might become habitual. Hopefully, the acts will be genuine--a real "turning away." Anyway, that is my theory. Any thoughts?

Toddler Trauma, or Toddler Testing??

For the past few weeks, my toddler, whom we might call "Doodlebug" or "Doodle" has developed a new preference at bedtime. While I was pregnant, my husband almost always rocked her to sleep at night, especially during the latter months. If she expressed a preference for me, it was rare, and if I did not comply, she was generally not too worked up about it. This has changed, however. Instead, she wants me to rock her to sleep every night, on pain of wails, sobs, and generally uncontrollable crying. The problem? Without fail, the Moosette wakes up crying, needing to be fed or needing to be pacified in a way that only Momma can, just as Big Sister-doodle is settling into Momma's lap. Momma has dealt with this in a couple of different ways. A couple of times, Moosette & Doodle have snuggled into Momma's lap together, which Big Sister doesn't mind at all, but this poses a problem when little sister wants to nurse--the logistics are all wrong. Also, the Moosette has grown in the past couple of weeks, and Doodle is much more likely to get feet in her face than she was initially, which doesn't bother her, but isn't conducive to sleep, either! Letting Moosette cry a bit isn't an option, because Doodle takes too long to go to sleep. And again, the crying Moosette keeps Big Sister awake, either from concern or noise. Handing Doodle off to Daddy is a common "solution," but generally results in several minutes of very sad, very loud crying. This does nothing for Daddy's ego. She may be moving toward just lying in her bed to sleep at naptime, but not at night. The way I see it, one of the girls feels brushed aside whatever I do. I'm contemplating letting Moosette take a bottle while Sister is rocked, at least a couple of nights a week, or putting Doodle to bed as soon as Moosette eats, whenever that may be. Of course, Moosette likes marathon nursing sessions at night, too.

Incidently, the problem is worse when Doodle has had a shorter-than-usual nap. . .

Now, this could be simple toddler manipulation, but I doubt it. Ever since I came back from the hospital (where I stayed 2 nights while Moosette was observed for possible infection--a precaution), Doodle has awakened in the night crying for me. She had nightmares in the past, but did not specifically call out "Momma" or "Mommy." So I'm wondering if she latches on to me at night because she's afraid of my leaving in the night again. My other thought is that, while she is very patient and understanding when I care for the baby throughout the day, she sees bedtime and naptime as two times when I should be hers unconditionally. She has motioned for me to give the baby to Daddy (tried to move her there!) and tonight, when I walked in to the bedroom to relieve Daddy of screaming toddler duty, she looked in my arms and said with dismay, "A Baby!" (Other times she will wake up from her nap and look in the baby's bed and say, "Where's baby?" with equal distress, fearing that the baby is missing if she is not there, especially if the baby is crying.) It certainly makes sense that she would want Momma & Doodle time. It is an emotionally draining challenge that ends the day in the Literacy-chic household.

Status Update with Random Thoughts

Things have been going well lately, but though I've wanted to sit down & blog (or at least answer comments from previous posts!) I can't seem to manage a whole post. I've got some partial ones saved, but that doesn't count. In fact, a bulleted list of random thoughts about things that have happened lately is more my speed right now, so here goes. . .

• A thought to add to Sarah's 40 reasons to have kids: Holidays are more fun when you have young children whose innocent delight reminds you of how to enjoy the trappings of the holiday!
• I have finally had success with a baby carrier! A pouch sling that I made from the directions on this web site. So now I want to make more for myself!!
• Things have been going much more smoothly with the toddler. She seems better able to understand what we want, and we are more able to communicate to her. Perhaps a breakthrough? (She's so sweet, I hate to sound as if she's trouble, and I hate to see her cry in anger, hurt, or frustration.) :(
• Newborn screenings are a pain. My baby has tested positive at the 2 week screening for a rare enzyme deficiency that only occurs in 1/60,000 infants. Yeah. She tested positive--along with 3 other 2-week-olds tested on the same afternoon at the same pediatric department at the same health insurance run clinic. Can we say lab error? Can we also say 4 sets of stressed parents??? Waiting for results from the retest. :(
  
• I did have some thoughts on discipline, but I have lost them now that things are better on that front. My brain can only hold one or two things at a time these days.
  
• My toddler is peeling off the little stickers on the back of breast pads and spreading the pads across the floor, but I'm nursing and can't stop her. And you know what? I don't care even a little! ;)
  
• Someone once told me that if you pray for patience (for example), God may not give you patience so much as the opportunity to exercise and so develop patience. I've thought about that a lot lately, like yesterday, when my toddler was trying to pour herself a cup of water out of the 1/4 full gallon jug. I went over to help her just as she inverted the jug, pouring water on the table, herself, and the floor. It was one of those slow-motion moments when you just can't seem to do anything. Soon, the gallon was empty, and she said, "Uh oh! Rain!" I laughed, sighed, and cleaned it up.
• Yesterday I managed to put both babies to sleep all by myself! Today, I managed to bathe & get dressed while they were both sleeping. Now, if I could only manage those two tasks on the same day. . .
• Another thing that having babies does is this: Children help their parents analyze and develop how they practice their faith (that is, when they aren't disrupting said practice of the Faith by driving the parents to distraction in Mass!!!) ;) In the coming weeks, we will begin planning for the baby's baptism. A thought that occurred to me is that, while I feel competent enough to teach my children the ins and outs of the practice of Catholicism, where I feel I am lacking is the ability to teach the love and awe--of the Church, of the Church as the Bride of Christ and of the Church as representative of the Body of Christ-- basically, awe and love of God through awe and love of the Faith that unites us. Is this something parents can teach? Likely. I frequently take lessons from Melanie and Bella (such as this one, and this one, and this one). I don't believe it has to be taught, but how wonderful if we could give something like that to our children! And if it begins growing in early childhood, hopefully the child will always have that as an anchor. But I don't know how to teach it. It is at these times that I realize that I am still new at this, and wonder where to go from here. . .
• I love Advent!! I love the decorations, the readings, the music--especially "O Come O Come Emmanuel," which I had never heard before I became Catholic. It is the time of the liturgical year when I most feel the awe and love--of God and the Church--that I mention above.
  

Hope to post more in coming days, if I can. I think the prospect of a unified post intimidates me lately, so I may stick with the bullet format.

Toddler Bed Safety!!

We've been wanting to move the little one to a toddler bed for a while. The original plan was to gradually transition her into the room with her brother by having her nap in his old toddler bed during the day. This didn't work for several reasons. First, I just forgot on most days. I was always afraid that instead of coming out of the room right away, she would climb to the top of the bunk bed. And, well, for night time, the room where her brother sleeps is just too darned far away. Her brother slept in our room until he was about 4 years old, at which time he moved into a room adjoining ours. I still would prefer for him to be closer in case he needs us. So having her in the front bedroom (which, incidently, is closer to the front door), is really out of the question. Failing that, we moved on to a second plan, which involved moving our son's old toddler bed--a very nice, non-character shaped, non-race-car, Step 2 plastic model--into the space occupied by her crib. Unfortunately, it was too bulky for the space, which is right next to my husband's side of the bed. So we had to buy a new toddler bed, which we did figuring that at some point it is very likely that we will have both little girls in toddler beds at the same time.

So Wednesday evening we bought another toddler bed (we already had 2 mattresses, one a crib-sized futon) and assembled it. However, it only has 1/2 rail. I was paranoid the entire night that she would fall out--with the added concern that my husband would step on her in the night!! Periodically, I would wake up and scoot her legs back on the bed. Twice, I found her kneeling on the body pillow I put on the floor with her head on the bed, soundly asleep. Then it happened: clunk--waaaaaah! She was still mostly asleep, but she was on the floor, legs on the body pillow, head just a little bit under our bed, which is a platform bed. She couldn't go too far, because unfortunately, the under-bed area is storage (contrary to the effect of a platform bed, which is clean and sleek). Her brother never fell out of his toddler bed (and he moved into the toddler bed much earlier, since he didn't really have a crib, just a large Pack-n-play with a mattress), but he might have been a calmer sleeper!! So I scooped her off the floor, comforted her & tucked her back in. My husband can be an extraordinarily sound sleeper. The rest of the night was relatively uneventful, except that brother had a rare nosebleed and wound up sleeping on the futon in the living room to avoid climbing up & down his ladder if it should recur.

Now, the toddler is quite taken with the toddler bed--with both of them, actually, or any bed that she can climb into and cover herself. So yesterday, she was playing in it and decided to put her covers over her head. I'm not sure exactly what happened--it happened too fast--but somehow her mouth met with the wooden backboard, resulting in a pretty badly busted lip, a miserable toddler, and a lot of blood. And when she gets hurt, she most emphatically does not want to have it looked at or tended to. I managed a wet rag with an ice cube in her mouth for about 5 non-consecutive seconds, but that's it. Eventually, she settled down and fell asleep. I had to scoot her legs back on the bed a couple of times, but she didn't fall off during her nap.

Last night, she stayed relatively still. I scooted her legs in the bed once or twice; she woke up once & climbed in bed with us for an hour or two; I put her back. Then, at about 6:40, I awoke and looked over in the bed--no toddler!! So I walked around, and there she was--on the body pillow, on the floor, curled up, fast asleep. My thought is that rather than falling out, she scooted out gradually without waking. I woke my husband & pointed to the empty bed, which surprised him, and the baby on the floor--right where he steps to get out of bed!

So now I'm trying to think of a solution to this. There are no bedrails designed to fit in so small a space. I'll likely have to make something, but I am, of course, concerned with safety. Something that velcros to the footboard and side rail, goes under the mattress and fastens on the other side should work. Hmmm. . .

Any suggestions?

What is it about 10-year-olds?

Perhaps the most daunting parenting challenge I am facing, will continue to face, and making me wonder how I will cope with 3 children is the behavior of my 10-year-old. I have always thought that he was pretty well-behaved. He does reasonably well in school, though not without a heavy dose of laziness, frustration, and know-it-all behavior. He is generally polite to others. He is definitely opinionated and expresses opinions loudly and obnoxiously. He certainly thinks he is an adult--or as good as. This is very troubling sometimes--and a matter of pride others, I'm ashamed to admit. But increasingly, he is very disrespectful in subtle ways. He pretends not to know what I mean when I ask him to clean up. "I want you to tidy up the nurs. . . (attempt at humor--Mary Poppins reference) . . . I mean, living room!!" "What? we don't have a nursery! Living room? We don't have a living room!' My patience sorely tested--"Are you really too stupid to know what I mean by 'living room'?" Yes, I know, likely the wrong tactic. Eventually, he pretends to catch my meaning, after I ask if he would like to clean up the living room and then proceed to his room for the rest of the day. These things are daily occurrences. Sometimes they are executed more like jokes on his part, which makes them more bearable, but no less irritating. Told to stop whatever irritating thing he is doing--some repetitive noise, like violently squeaking a toy--he continues for several more times before finally stopping, usually prompted by a glare. Or if I shoot one of those Mommy-glares "You know what you're doing is wrong" in his direction, he responds with a mock-scared, high-pitched squeal and convulsions, which I have told him repeatedly infuriate me more than whatever he was doing int he first place. However, ignoring the offending behavior does not seem to work, either. And so I have to deal with this on top of the toddler, and the pregnancy, and I can only imagine it continuing after the birth of the new baby.

And then, there is the brother-sister dynamic. Now, he clearly loves his little sister. He is clearly thankful to have her. And he has been looking forward to the new one steadily since I told him--proudly noticing when I'm getting rounder, etc. His enthusiasm has been slightly dampened by not having anyone to tell who will get excited, but only slightly dampened. (Actually, I have been very disappointed by my extended family's reaction--my aunt, whom my mother has told repeatedly that I am pregnant, will only respond with a "Yes, you told me." Hmph.) But the attitude he adopts towards the toddler is that of an overzealous prison-warden. Or he treats her like an animal or a toy, manhandling her at will in the name of "play." He will correct her under my nose as if I can't see what she's doing, or as if he is more capable. Now I do remember my mother correcting us for these same errors, I just don't remember it being so bad. I am on the verge of declaring it a hot-sauce punishable offense if the words "No" or the baby's name escape his lips with certain derogatory emphasis!!

I don't want to punish this repetitive mockery, etc., severely. It is the cumulative effect rather than the individual acts that are problematic, and yet, some days it reduces me to tears. In part because I do not want to yell, scream, punish. I do not want to feel frustrated, out of control, violent. I do not, in short, want to turn into my mother, or for my family's dynamic to be that of my family when we were growing up--you know, what I've mentioned fearing about having a big family?? I don't want to constantly be breaking up fights, stupidly dangerous play, wrestling, to deal with the baby's protests when she clearly doesn't want him to do what he's doing--some of the same things that I have to do when my son interacts with my youngest brother (but better not to go there. . .). I can't even handle two, how will I handle three? How will I handle three, especially, with patience and love? I just don't see it. Perhaps having two closer together, they will interact better with each other. I don't know.

The pressing problem right now is with the oldest, but it makes the prospect of 3 fearful. He is taking on little tiny dribbles of responsibility intermittently, but causing more problems than ever in the grand scheme of things. When the damage is done and I am distraught and on the verge of tears for no reason that he can possibly imagine (and I don't want him to feel guilty, since part of the problem is my own perceived inadequacy), he becomes quite compassionate. This, of course, doesn't really help. I've always been told how well-behaved he is, and mostly I've been inclined to agree. But lately. . . I just don't know. His harassing of the toddler, alternated with policing her, or complaining about her movements, location, sounds and smells (a dirty diaper apparently induced convulsions this afternoon, before he indicated a desire to attempt to change said diaper!), wears me thin. Is it age? A pre-preteen thing? Jealousy? Not knowing quite how to position himself between adults and a baby? When I was 10, I had 3 sisters. Very different.

I know, not my most cerebral post. And so I'm not misunderstood, I do basically think he's a very good, smart child. Just increasingly obnoxious. :( I find myself longing uncharacteristically for the start of school without believing that it will remedy the situation.

Loaves and . . . Fruit Snacks? and 4 O'clocks

Not to distract from the seriousness of the previous week's posts, but. . .

We were in Mass yesterday, and as my toddler has rejected the prospect of staying in the nursery during Mass, even when a nursery is available, we have adopted the habit of bringing several items for her amusement including, I am ashamed to say, a few small but fragrant snack items--Gerber fruit snacks, fruit strips, and breakfast bars (which are crummy, and so only for emergencies). This started because she would sometimes be ready to eat before the end of Mass, and a little something was necessary to keep her quiet. Once she has reached an age of understanding "we don't really eat in . . . X," we will remove the snacks from our routine.

These fruit snacks are softer versions of the ones available to be packed in school lunches--they come in a little pouch and she just loves fishing them out with her little hands until they are all gone, at which point she crumples the bag and we have to do a little minimal noise control. So yesterday, she had eaten her fruit strp and rooted through her little activity bag to find the fruit snacks, which I opened for her and she promptly gobbled up. Several minutes passed, and she made a little noise and, with surprise & triumph, showed me two more fruit snacks rescued from the pew! Now I thought for sure that I had monitored fruit snack consumption so that none escaped. But she ate the two fruit snacks and I returned to trying to listen to--oh, probably the homily at this point. The baby fidgeted a little, walked back and forth on the kneeler in her bare feet, having taken off her shoes during the readings, presumably to sample the texture of the floor and kneeler with her toes. She settled down again, this time between Daddy and Momma instead of between Momma and Brother. And what do you think she found? A yellow, pineapple shaped fruit snack! She again regarded it with pleasure and surprise, promptly dropped it in the pew, recovered it with my help, and ate it happily. So I'm starting to become amused and a little embarassed. I know I monitored the initial consumption of fruit snacks better than that! But these things were multiplying like. . . you guessed it--"loaves and fruit snacks." After all, "fruit snacks" started with the same letter and has the same umber of syllables and the same stress pattern as "fishes." So I had just finished this thought--of questionable taste (unless you ask the daughter, who would have found it delicious, no doubt), when it was time to stand for the Profession of Faith. Guess what? I caught site of yet another fruit snack--on the floor in front of my husband's feet! So amid my amusement, I try to keep my daughter occupied so that she doesn't try to rescue the dead fruit snack from off the floor. Finally, as we sat again, I motioned to my husband, who retrieved the offending object.

I imagined the older woman behind me, who at various points seemed amused by the toddler's antics and perhaps pleased that she wasn't making more of a disturbance, wondering how on earth we focused on the Mass. Well, I think I've realized that the experience of a Mass with family sometimes involves being thankful for the sweet little person who causes such distraction! (And catching what glorious moments we can in between!) At least, that's my answer for yesterday!

* * * * *

On a different subject, Entropy reminded me in her post of the wonders of 4 o'clocks--small flowers that bloom promptly at 4 o'clock (daylight savings time notwithstanding)--that are impossible to kill and have the most wonderful fragrance! She posts a picture. I remember that we had them in the greatest varieties! Yellow & light pink, fuschia, striped. . . My grandmother would always try to cross-pollinate to get new varieties. She would tie little strings around the branches of the ones she pollinated with other colors so that she would remember where the seed would be. Meanwhile, my cousins & sisters would collect the seeds in little piles--they called the not-quite-ripe ones "stripeys" because they were black striped with green.

I haven't had any luck getting them to grow in Texas. I'm not sure if the ground is too hard, or if it's too dry, or what. In New Orleans, you just drop them on the ground and they sprout almost instantly. Here, when I tried to grow some, nothing ever happened. Anyway, it was nice to be reminded of these pretty little flowers.

Utopian Child Care at a High School (A Second Hand Report), and Wider Implications

Someone once mentioned to me that a Catholic school in San Antonio that had high incidence of unwed mothers decided to try a radical method of correcting the situation. Instead of expelling the unfortunate mothers and ostracizing them, contributing to their disgrace and difficult financial situation (or providing implicit pressure for the girls to have abortions to avoid being expelled), this school set up a daycare on the campus that was staffed, in part, by the girls themselves, and that this did more than Home Ec and Sex Ed combined to make the girls understand the realities of life with a child and to consider the consequences of their actions more carefully. Now, this did attract negative attention as I understand it, but the results spoke for themselves. This seems to be an example of a positive move towards helping mothers and educating young people. It also represents a bringing of children into unaccustomed spaces where they might be accessed by their own mothers periodically. I'm sure there were those who doubted that the students would get anything accomplished with their babies and others' close by.

This may not actually be too different from the move by some employers (especially schools) to include child care for employees. If a high school teacher could pick up her child from an on-site child development center at 3, that would be infinitely better than 5, and a step in the right direction! If she were able to spend the lunch hour with her own baby, even if only twice a week or so, this would provide valuable bonding time. (The idea has good breastfeeding potential, too!) If the facility also provided credit or work-study for the students and supervised child care experience, so much the better!

Utopian? Maybe. But many times the point of a utopian vision is to illustrate an ideal with the hope that it might influence our vision of what is possible in our own world, and give us ideas of things to implement. Unless you take the definition of utopia that sees the utopia as necessarily ironic, since the utopia is a place that does not and can not possibly exist. I take most utopias as sincere attempts to influence change, though there are exceptions.

The question of whether the facility would be faculty-only, or if faculty children would be kept apart from students' children (if applicable) would be a bit stickier, but this might even be sticky if we were talking about university faculty's or grad students' or undergraduates' children, hierarchies being what they are. Which actually leads me to another point: At the university from which I have my B.A., there was a child care center that was available to faculty, staff and students alike. Rather than requiring the parents to keep their children in the center for fixed hours, parents could, at the beginning of each semester, register for the number of hours and specific hours needed for their particular teaching, work or class schedules. Thus, child care was available when necessary, and no one was forced into predetermined hours to maximize either the child's hours in the facility or the facility's profit. And no one had to pay for more hours than they needed or wanted, which often leads to the feeling that, "Well, if I'm paying for it, s/he might as well stay!" By contrast, the children's center on the university campus where I currently teach has fixed hours, was (at one time--perhaps still is) full-time only, and was at one time for faculty only (or at least preference given to faculty/staff), though I believe this has changed, as some grad students--like my office mate--have their children enrolled in the center.

The Best of Both Worlds

After my recent posts and the responses that others have posted, I found, on my wanderings, two posts that seem to address what I will call wanting "the best of both worlds." Because I believe that that's what I'm striving to achieve. I do naturally assume that most mothers want to spend time--some time, all of their time, more time, whatever--with their children. I feel that this can be accomplished more than it is being now by a pervasive change in attitude. And, well, it doesn't seem that I'm alone here.

In her post on Women, Work and the Church, Sarahndipity refers to a blog post by Radical Catholic Mom that raises the issue of women, work and families within Catholic marriages.

The argument is a familiar one (at least to me)--that in a Catholic marriage, we are called to be "open to life," and while this does not necessarily mean that every Catholic family must be a large family, large families are regarded as evidence of the couple's own generosity, and are certainly a blessing and an asset to the Church (and to society more generally!). Here I am using the post as a jumping off point for what I already know about this subject, which is one I have certainly considered. So depending on the couple's situation and their discernment of family size, taking into account any surprises God has in store for them along the way, the couple has to decide at some point which spouse will be primary caregiver for the children, or whether the children will be in daycare, etc. Or the couple may not have to decide, since they may already know that one or another parent prefers to stay home full time. Or they may not decide, since the default stay-at-home parent, if stay-at-home-parenting is deemed necessary, appropriate, or preferable is generally (though not always) the mother. On the other hand, potential career paths or the spouses' earning potential might dictate which parent (if either) stays home.

The point made by Radical Catholic Mom seems to be that if Church teaching is strictly followed, women will continue having babies every couple of years and stay at home, even if they desire to work, thus becoming entirely financially dependent on their husbands. There is some room for disagreement with this representation of Church teaching--at least I hope so, for my sake!!--as Church teaching does allow for the couple's discernment of family size based on any number of serious considerations (this is very briefly mentioned in the post; perhaps she treats it in more detail elsewhere). The nature of "reasons" and what constitutes "serious" are often disputed, and I think the phrasing is left intentionally vague, likely to give Catholic bloggers something to debate on a regular basis. She goes out on a limb by stating that "the Church allows men to have it all," a point Sarahndipity and others dispute.

Sarahndipity extends the argument ways that I find interesting given my own recent posts and the fact that unlike Radical Catholic Mom, she addresses means of correcting the problem and resists the temptation to lay all blame at the feet of the Catholic Church:

. . . .

However, for me at least, working part-time or from home actually sounds much more appealing then a traditional full-time job. Even if I wasn’t a mom, this would still be more appealing! And it’s almost always women who go this route. So from that point of view, women actually have it somewhat “better.” The problem is that fulfilling part-time work is hard to come by, and home business are hard to start. If it were easier, I would say women would have the better deal. But as with all things in life, it’s a trade-off.
. . . .

I think much of the problem lies with the society, which does not value children and forces women to conform to career paths that are easier for men. I think what we need is more family-friendly career options, like part-time work, flex time, work-from-home options, home businesses, etc. (And it’s not just women who deserve family-friendly work – men should not have to work 80-hour weeks and never see their families just to put food on the table. The workplace needs to be more humane for everyone.)
. . . .

Sounds familiar! So when I say that I want to work in a job that I feel allows for time with my family, and that I don't want to leave my children in the care of others, and that this should be O.K., I am echoing the sentiments of others. The interesting thing with my situation is that I don't really have the choice to stay at home full-time, even if I wanted to (which, right now, I don't really want to do, because as much as I complain, I do find what I do fulfilling!) since right now, in spite of my husband's excellent and diverse qualifications and multiple degrees, my career path is more clear-cut. I am our hope right now for a larger income and a move out of this town/state (whichever). I've gotta tell you, if this is what men who are the sole or primary providers face, it's a lot of responsibility and quite a burden! At one point we thought the job market thing would be more mutual, and that whoever got the job with the potential for a spousal hire (and moving expenses! don't forget moving expenses!) would determine & direct our move, but that's not the way things actually worked out in our case. But what she suggests is what I would like--the flexibility to parent my children for the better part of the day/week without having to give up the career path I have chosen (even if that were a real option). Incidently, I feel like, in this case, that "career path" thing is a "serious reason" to postpone pregnancy in our case (even by Church standards), since 1) circumstances have, indeed, permitted me to get this far, 2) mine is the career that has the greatest potential for advancement at this point, and 3) do student loans count? Anyway, I certainly believe that the "best of both worlds" should--and could--be an option.

Anastasia, who has also spilled a lot of virtual ink on this topic, and who opened this can of worms (at least for me), has some thoughts on Women who want too much, which to me, sounds like women who also want "the best of both worlds"--this time, for purely secular reasons (or not necessarily, but not explicitly for religious reasons either).
Incidently, my conversion to Catholicism has nothing at all to do with my preference for not putting my children in daycare--those ideas were well-formed long before I seriously considered converting!

Anastasia addresses "the accusation that mothers just want the whole world to revolve around them and all of society to cater to their every whim" and "the accusation . . . that mothers, by demanding better treatment, can go too far and wander into the mistreatment of others." She "read(s) it as a power play. The one demanding a voice must either pull herself up short or be pulled up short by others in the name of balance." She concludes with two nice paragraphs that need to be quoted in full:

. . . .
A society that would allow me freedom and equality, as a woman with children, is a better society for everyone. A society that respects and supports mothers should be a society that respects and supports human beings as individuals embedded in a web of familial relationships. The goal of feminism, as I see it, is to humanize the culture, not to marginalize the masculine. The focus is on the marginalized (i.e. women and children) but the goal is a reimagined society in which the human being is valued as such and the rights and needs of individuals as human beings are respected.

My point being, I think the idea that mothers just want the world to cater to them is a rhetorical ploy, intended to put women who make strong arguments for change in their place. It has the same function in discussions of race relations. It keeps the mistreated at the margins, subject to the will of the mainstream.
. . . .

I like the idea of a movement to "humanize the culture," with a goal of "a reimagined society in which the human being is valued as such and the rights and needs of individuals as human beings are respected." I'm not entirely sure that I see that as a goal of feminism per se (it wasn't a goal of humanism, either, and that tag is already claimed), but those feminists who see that as their goal have my blessing. (Which does not mean that I would consider calling myself a feminist--even of their ranks! For me, that would leave me open to the assumption that I believed in things and supported things in which I do not believe, and which I do not support.) If pressed, I probably could think of a movement that promotes that goal, even if it hasn't always worked out that way (there's no accounting for humanity, after all).

Departing from the world of blogs for a moment, one of the web sites to which I was directed by AcadeMama also seems to support the rights of mothers to pursue--and perhaps achieve--the best of both worlds. This is the web site for M.O.T.H.E.R.S.: Mothers Ought to Have Equal Rights. It is rare when a search of a site that is considered feminist doesn't turn up any references to abortion (like this one: The Motherhood Project); I am sorry to say that Mothers Ought to Have Equal Rights doesn't have a search feature, but there was nothing overt. One of the sites they link to is a project of NOW Legal Defense and Education Fund, so do with that what you will. Not knowing enough about it, I don't endorse this site in any way, but I did find it interesting that they are, essentially, working for the recognition of the worth of mothers (and other primary caregivers) in economic terms. I would love to dispute the claim that "(m)ost mothers are 'dependents' in marriage, not economic equals. They have no unequivocal right to half the family assets, and are not considered joint recipients of the family's income during or after marriage." Familial experience has shown me that this is easily true, though I would say that any marriage that actually operates according to this principle is an abusive marriage on some level.

We of course hope that when men are the primary--or sole--economic providers, that their priorities lie with their families. Unfortunately, the "my money"/"her money" dynamic does exist, though it shouldn't exist, even when both spouses work. This dynamic existed in my mother's marriage with her second husband, who gave her $50 a week for groceries for 6 kids (her "spending money"), while he also had $50 "spending money" for bowling, fast food, and beer, with exclusive use of the checkbook when he felt like punishing her. So when Mothers Ought to Have Equal Rights quotes the statistic that "(m)others' lack of financial equality in marriage deprives children; fathers are statistically less likely to spend their money on childrens' health and education" (sic), it certainly rings true. I know divorce is a separate situation, but let's just say that the children's health care that he was ordered to pay was arranged in such a way that my mother could not access the benefits. We hope that the marriage won't actually end this way or operate this way, but in reality, it happens to too many women--even those in Sacramental marriages.

So far, I have dwelt on the worst of all possible worlds. But I feel that the arguments of a woman who raised 6 children, enduring varying levels of mostly verbal, economic, and emotional abuse, who was finally able to break free of the immediate control, but feels entitled to economic compensation for the work she did as a mother and for the emotional abuse that literally prevented her from working outside of the home and then made her feel like a failure when she had to quit her job(s) to care for her children, who suffered from manipulation, anger & neglect while she was gone, would be regarded as "wanting too much" (using Anastasia's phrase out of context). Though she has worked enough hours in her lifetime to retire (once her 13-year-old is independent), she is nevertheless expected to get a minimum wage or entry-level job or have one imputed to her by the courts.

Sarahndipity notes, separately, that "[w]e also need to realize that for women, the male pattern of graduate, get a job, work for 30 years straight, and retire doesn’t work as well. It would make more sense for women to have their children while they’re young and reenter the workforce later (or enter for the first time.) Unfortunately, there is a lot of ageism that prevents older women from getting entry-level jobs." Yeah, there sure is.

So Mothers Ought to Have Equal Rights says that women who have raised children deserve to be economically independent, or at least, to have economic independence equal to those who have earned Social Security benefits. I'm not sure how this would be accomplished, or if there is any way to accomplish this in an equitable, just manner, but it is certainly an interesting idea. The problem is that trying to accomplish this through legislative means does absolutely nothing to help the women who are suffering from this very thing right now. And really, that's a problem. The site asks, in a rhetorical response to an anticipated question, "Why is it we always seem to find the money we need for so many things, but when women ask for themselves or their children, the money is never there?" Why, indeed? Why is there money to accomplish political lobbying, etc., but not to establish a temporary or permanent independent solution? After all, Social Security isn't much of a solution either--it's more of a problem. So why should mothers want to go on board for that one? And on the other hand, it is better than the alternative: nothing. But it is not giving mothers what they truly deserve: the best of both possible worlds--the experience, responsibility, rewards of having mothered and the social and financial independence of having worked a demanding, sometimes heartbreaking, real and socially valuable job.

The Condensed Version of What I've Been Trying to Communicate

Feminism

• Few people who talk about feminism and motherhood (specifically, none of the commentors on the post about child-free woman-only beaches in Italy) consider for one minute that a woman might LIKE to have her kids around, that she might actually arrange her time so that she CAN spend it with them (whether she chooses to work outside of the home or not), and that she doesn't consider them an impediment to her enjoyment of life.

• It may be (as Anastasia notes) that people are afforded too much child-free space, leading to the opinion that children are little obscenities ad should be hidden until they reach an acceptable age.

• Within feminism certain choices are affirmed, but others are not--because they’re driven by so-called "outdated ideologies."

• Not having a child at all--or certainly not having more than one--is considered by many to be the "enlightened" choice.

• Individuals who consider themselves "feminists" very rarely speak out against how the most vocal and most politically active "feminists" wish to portray themselves.

• Feminism is an ideology that is loosely based at best.

• Feminism strongly suggests that certain behaviors are appropriate in certain situations, and it does suggest that the woman look out for #1 without considering much else, really.

• I consider "feminism" to be distinct from "women's rights." The former label does not afford much besides political baggage and free-associations.

• Feminism states: Any woman who is pro-woman is feminist (as long as she is pro-woman in a way we like). That way, feminism makes sure that it can claim to be all encompassing (within limits).

• Feminism is about women's rights to have rights. It doesn't matter what the rights are or whether they're right by any standard--objective or otherwise. Rather, it seems to be looking for something prohibited to claim as a right. Maybe feminism itself is in crisis due to this lack of a unified cause.
  

• Pro-motherhood feminism always includes the caveat that the motherhood shouldn't really interfere with one's convenience--hence the emphasis on children being "planned."
  

• In order to subscribe to an ideology--to a belief system of any kind--I have to have a good idea, first of all, of the tenets of that belief system, and second of all, I have to be able to accept those tenets.

• While feminism has certainly afforded us choice, I maintain that it has affirmed one choice (many choices, actually) over its (their) alternative(s).

• It is perfectly acceptable for a feminist to condemn--implicitly or explicitly--the choices of a woman who bases her choices on so-deemed "patriarchal institutions," such as Christianity, for example. Her choices and her intelligence are thus judged in one fell swoop.

Children in Academia

• In academia, it is possible to make one's schedule family friendly.

• Children might even accompany the parent to office hours, etc.

• Research can be done in the presence of children.

• The presence of children does not preclude intellectual activity.

The Presence of Children

• Children don't have to be relegated to the care of others. It all depends on our perception of where they belong, with what they interfere.

• The idea that children need to, can and should make room for women's own goals is something that feminism has fought hard to achieve.

• The assumptions that children are a burden, make life difficult, and should be relegated to a space apart from one's career are assumptions that accompany women's presence in the workplace.

• We need to acknowledge that children can co-exist with parental ambition, and that difficult situations involving children can turn into occasions of triumph.

• Individual choices concerning what to do with children might differ from what they are currently if an atmosphere conducive to children were more pervasive.

• Some of our opinions on this subject are influenced by the fact that children are not well-tolerated in certain situations. I'm not sure why this is so offensive a point. To extend--we might have more options if children were better tolerated.

• It would be infinitely simpler to send my children to daycare, so I must have reasons for what I do, and those reasons are not affirmed by any of the theories or ideologies promoted in academia.

• I advocate the idea that the presence of children need not be regarded as a burden. The idea that children ruin one's life and career goals is unfortunate and pervasive. So if I can, in a small way, make people think about the presence or absence of children from our lives and our spaces in a different way than how they are accustomed to thinking, I am satisfied.

Rhetoric

• There is a difference between saying, "this is what's best for me" and saying, "I do things this way because I believe that my method is preferable." My statement that it is my belief that my method is preferable does not preclude logic and reasoning, and my beliefs on this subject are indeed based on logic and reasoning (not prejudice or even-- horrors!--faith.), as are most of the things I believe.
  

• The expression of the belief that all children benefit from being around their parents while they are young, or of any of the other opinions that I have expressed, does not infringe on anyone’s right to do anything. Rather, the expression of that belief is intended to make people consider possible bases and consequences of such a belief, and perhaps see that I am advocating a change in attitude that might make such choices more frequent and available to more people.

• Saying that my choices are different, not influenced by the prevailing mindset, and that it would be nice if the prevailing mindset were different does not say that my choices are best for everyone, or that I want everyone to choose like me. Hell! If I said that, I’d have to put up with everyone else’s little monsters!! ;)

A Logical Extension

Another thought. . . I feel myself to be an advocate of the idea that the presence of children need not be regarded as a burden, just as some people consider themselves advocates of reproductive rights. The idea that children ruin one's life and career goals is unfortunate and pervasive. While I have been told not to blame feminism for this, I was 8 months pregnant with my first child (and 19 years old), sitting in a senior-level undergraduate literary theory class, when my male professor asked me, of all people in the class, a visual representation of motherhood, to read a passage from a Marxist-Feminist essay on that standard piece of feminist reading (and one of the most reprehensible works I think I read as an undergrad) The Awakening, that concluded that motherhood renders one's life meaningless. Hmmmm. . . If I can, in a small way, make people think about the presence or absence of children from our lives and our spaces in a different way than how they are accustomed to thinking, I am satisfied. It's my own pro-life crusade, if you will, because how many abortions start with the thought, "I just can't. . ."?

Let's Talk About Children. . .

. . . Since we've talked about feminism and motherhood. The original posts that got me thinking about the ways feminists talk about motherhood were about the prohibition of children from certain spaces and the relegation of children to private spaces based on an inferiority of children. One commenter actually said that she considered herself to be raising her children to become human. This is an interesting extension of the argument that says a fetus isn't human--in her construct, she could easily justify the infanticide of ancient Greece and Rome--or of that girl who gave birth in the bathroom during prom. Clearly, she was exaggerating (I hope). Just as clearly, many, many of these women have some psychological problem that makes them resent and lash out against the smallest, least protected, most powerless members of our society who are still acknowledged as such. So we'll suggest that this is a personal problem shared by this substantial group of individuals who also happen to gather together under the label of "feminist." We will further concede that this group is perhaps a bit extreme in their not wanting to be disturbed by children--or by women talking to their children--in the grocery stores. Having made a great number of concessions, I have a few observations to make.

Academia is a very flexible career choice. If one wants to be in a 40+ hour a week desk job, one has the option of administration. However, many academic administrators work considerably less than that. If one wants to split one's time between editorial duties with a journal and teach a class or two, that is an option also. If one has what is considered a "good" teaching load as a tenure-track professor, one likely teaches 2-3 courses a semester. Once tenured, this might decrease further. If one has taught the same class multiple times, one is usually able to teach without much time spent preparing. Then, there is the research requirement, which can be accomplished anywhere. Conferences are like mini-vacations for those who can afford them and are accustomed to them, though for a beginner and one with a modest income, they can afford considerable stress.

Enter children. Or, consider children if they happen to exist already. Clearly, an administrative job would provide challenges for someone who wanted to spend a significant amount of time parenting. If one has a teaching job, however, it is possible for the number of hours actually spent away from the home to resemble a part-time rather than a full-time job. It is even possible, with departmental cooperation, to make one's schedule family friendly by working only 2 or 3 days a week, or by working mornings or evenings only (perhaps alternating with a spouse) and spending the remaining time with one's children. Children might even accompany the parent to office hours, meetings with students, less important departmental meetings, film showings, lectures or other after-hours activities (this would of course depend on the age and behavior of th child(ren) involved). This is challenging, but has its rewards. Research can be done in the presence of children just as easily as housework was traditionally--not that I'm saying that this was/is always easy. Clearly there are good hours and bad hours, and good days and bad days. But you know what? That article or whatever can be written with the kids--at least, if you don't procrastinate like me!!--and if you don't blame the kids for taking up too much of your time, and if you're not afraid to let them entertain themselves, or to stop when they need your attention. It can be done--just as easily as blogging with kids. The presence of children does not preclude intellectual activity. Conferences are rare, but can be turned into family vacations, with the other spouse filling in time gaps while the attendee is in sessions. Or if not, what's a weekend away once a year? Not too traumatic. (But don't--for God's sake DON'T--breastfeed in an MLA session!! I can't remember the name of the audacious academic who pulled that "stunt," but I have it on good authority--good feminist authority--that one simply can not do that!!--The horrors!!)

I have been asked point-blank if my children are in day-care. I have said no. And I have been asked how I get any work done. I have been told about the impossibilities of working on anything with (a) child(ren) around--all by other women. All by my peers. And I have been doing this for 10 years. Well, unless you count all that time when I was living at home with 5 siblings helping my mom go to school while I was an undergraduate. In that case, I've been doing it much longer. I have not asked how they afford 40-hour child care. I don't want to know. I can't, and I really don't want to try. But I am a fairly lone figure pushing my stroller on a regular basis through the halls of the department. My children are well known by all who see them--and this has been my modus operandi since I stepped into the building almost (God help me!) 8 years ago. Others have their children with them sometimes, but only occasionally, whether to show off, or because of a school/daycare holiday, or illness. But I maintain that it doesn't really have to be like this. Children don't have to be relegated to the care of others. It all depends on our perception of where they belong, with what they interfere. Truly--I believe it is a matter of perception. And that's where I think feminism has some part to play. Unless one wants to say that it could have a pro-child part to play but doesn't. But the idea that children, who once were the responsibility of women but need not be, should be relegated to other spaces to make room for women's own goals, needs, desires, whatever, certainly is something that feminism has fought hard to achieve.

Women in academia are supposed to be feminist. No one will dispute that. It's one of those "well, she's intelligent, so she must agree with this. . ." These assumptions run rampant through academia. The assumptions that children are a burden, make life difficult, and should be relegated to a space apart from one's career are assumptions that accompany women's presence in the workplace. While some may disagree, this is rare. I have known professors to keep their children in after-care daily rather than have them at home with the parents (both academics) when the parents' schedules ended earlier than a 5 P.M. day. I have seen children kept in child care situations "just in case" meetings or other activities should come up. On the other hand, I have met two academics--a single father and a mother (possibly separated--I'm not sure) who, in their early days of tenure-track, brought their children with them to class, office hours, after hours situations. These are the professors I admire, as they balanced their career goals and their family goals, standing up for their children's rights to exist, to exist in public, and to be with their parents. What may have been borne of difficult situations turned into triumph for all involved. And we just need to acknowledge that children can co-exist with parental ambition, and that difficult situations involving children can turn into occasions of triumph. But does feminism teach this, really?