Riding the 3rd Wave: Feminism in the 21st Century

I believe we have all heard the phrase "standing in the shoulders of...." which generally implies that our current lifestyle is indebted to some brave forerunner.

Imagine now how our 3 inch heels are digging into the shoulders of our fore-mothers who broke out of kitchens and doll-house conditions to give us the right to vote, wear pants, get a job, and speak our mind?  Not to say you can't be an activist in heels, I just hope that is not the only way we are wielding our 'femininity' to our benefit (surely a swanky outfit can sway minds, but let's see if your minds can sway a bit more than.....hormones).

As I have been researching the recent history of feminist movement - movements toward equal pay for women, legal rights being increased for women on university campuses to prosecute their attackers, recognition of trafficking within the US and around the world - I have been proud to be a woman amongst so many powerful women.  Granted, my battlefield is small and my mega-phone may not reach as many ears, but we all have influence within our own sphere - even if that means teaching our daughters upon which shoulders we are standing.

I have been reading Betty Friedman's "Feminine Mystique."  Betty does a phenomenal job at giving an overview of historical events, gendered injustices, and the continued subversion of women.  Admittedly, there are parts of Betty's assertions that I think get a bit fantastic (let's have a convo about it and I'll show you where), but overall the presentation of data and research is impressive.

It is the cold hard facts that we need to remember.  We still have work to do, and we still have a sphere of influence in which we can stretch our wings, even if we never get to fly.  Be brave.  Have courage.  Let us speak for ourselves and get what we deserve.  We needn't get caught up in the labeled hype (created by men and women alike) of what it means to be a feminist; just be a woman amongst women.  And men, join the cause, don't take the privilege you are given as a "God given right."  Teach your sons to be better.  We all have a sphere of influence so wield your powers for good where ever you are.

p.s. if you want to have a convo about what it means to be a Mormon woman and a feminist, I would be happy to talk on that subject too, outside of fMh.

Boston Marathon, "I Don't Have a Song for That"

Big news today was that the Boston Marathon Bomber said "I'm sorry."

Those words can heal.  As can music.

Cain Theory

As a parent, I have been considering what I will call today the "Cain Theory."

Having been raised on a scripture foundation, the analogies of my parenting strife today are rife with accounts of Laman, Lemuel, Cain, Lucifer and the other biblical black sheep of the family.  For doesn't every family have one?  Or are they only considered the black sheep in comparison with their fairer siblings?  I'm not talking color of skin only here - although scripture and our family are rife with that pigmented contrast - I'm talking of the inevitability in a family with more than one child that one of them is comparatively naughtier than the rest.

What bothers me about my 'Cain Theory' as of yet is that I have no empirical evidence to show me statistically how many families feel like there is one child that is 'naughtier' than the rest, the black sheep.  I'm not just talking about ideologically different today, I'm talking of the one who was hardest to parent because they, well, were just bad somehow.  I have been considering this morning if this is a foster parenting problem or a universal parenting problem.  That's how it got to be the "Cain Theory."

Look, Cain and Abel, and all the rest of the start of the human family, all came from the same parents.  From the record we are given it is safe to assume that Adam and Eve were really great parents.  They taught all their children the laws of God.  They taught them all to garden, for it was in the garden that Cain got his ultimate revenge or punishment however you see it.  This morning it was in the garden that I watched one of my children exact her revenge on the world, one cucumber plant at a time.

As part of my personal parenting philosophy I will not give my child enough space to blame Satan for their actions (in fact, I don't know if Lucifer just wasn't painted as a devil until he was compared against Jesus but that is a deeper theological debate than is needed for the day).  I do believe there is opposition in all things, including our choice of how we use natural emotions.  It would be silly to deny that we all feel and that some of those feelings are negative.  Anger is real.  Frustration and fatigue are very real.  Just as real as love and joy and compassion.  Agency, which is told to be the greatest gift of God to His children (Christ's sacrifice was His own great gift) allows us to experience emotions in all their colors and make a choice as to how they will guide our lives.  To some degree, for at least a reasonable 8-18 years, parents have the obligation to guide the choice of actions based on feelings.  That is part of what parenting is right - teaching your children the 'appropriate' way to behave when under the duress of natural life.

It seems too easily metaphorical in the bible that Satan or his angels popped up right in the moment when Cain was feeling anger toward his brother and let him know exactly where to put that negative feeling.  I sympathize with Cain, working hard like the rest of the family, but always feeling cast in the shadow of Abel. And we have no evidence that Abel was the perfect brother.  Perhaps he was goading on Cain that day, I've seen it enough in sibling relationships.  Even the good ones can be downright vindictive when their parents' backs are turned.  So why is it that Cain got the curse of the family? And was the curse before or after the killing?  Who's to say that Cain didn't already know that he was the bad boy of the family and was just fulfilling their expectations for him.

I'll admit it - some of us have bigger inner dragons than others and in a group setting as tight as a family, that is not seen as an asset.  Some family members can feel like a liability.  As much as we love them, we continue to ask God why he gave us this  member of the family to help us experience the binaries of life.  But then I pause.  Is any of us so bad in isolation?  If my Cain were my only child, would I really be so up in arms today about cucumber plants uprooted?  Or would I shake my head, give her a hug and tell her she was being silly.  Was the disaster only so disappointing because the other two children had angelically completed their weeding singing songs and wanting to help longer than was needed?  Biblically, would Cain have been such a big deal had there been no Abel?

Despite my theory, there is still parenting to be done.  Principles of work, love, respect, and self-worth that will have to be gaged with or without the comparisons.  The point, I think, is to stop and think about how 'bad' any of us really are.  If the dragon of revenge wants to wield it's way through my garden and rip out one innocent plant after another, I shall be grateful that today she is only 7 years old and that there is still time to plant again.  Maybe Cain had ripped out a few plants prior to sinking a knife into his brother.  I don't know.  I just feel like today I have a bit more mercy for all those siblings who got painted black before really knowing that there had to be any comparison.

Squish, squeeze,...POP!

Today I feel like a pimple on Life's face.  I am irritated, agitated around the edges, and ready to pop.  I find it incredibly ironic that it is now, in the quiet week, that I feel the most emotionally and mentally squeezed rather than during the tumult of end of term projects.  Do I thrive under pressure? Or, do I have a hard time being alone with my thoughts?

I feel as though the emotional work that I have been doing over the past four months both with and through my academic work was what they describe in academic methodology "squishy."  The boundaries that once seemed so firm and constrictive began to give way.  My own concept of my position in life became more malleable as I began to poke at some of my core beliefs about myself.  I took it all in small doses as my life continued to run on around me, which may have been a saving grace.  Now, the race over, I am trying to determine how much squishy = messy.

I find now, with hours of open time to myself that I don't quite understand what "productive" is.  I feel merit in finally just relaxing and breathing; yet as I slow down, I start to go down.  I know depression.  I have spent plenty enough time with it as a house guest in the past that I can recognize it coming up the drive.  I liked the constant pressure of time - squeezing every bit of usefulness out of time.  I made sure to squeeze in time for myself in the midst of it all, but never felt such a victim of time now that I have too much of it.  Josh likes to use the phrase "playing the victim" which perhaps I am this week.  It is Wednesday this week and I am a victim to lost time.  Non-regimented time.  What stresses me most is not deadlines, it is dead time.

In this emotionally vunerable white space that I am experiencing I am ready to burst.  I probably shouldn't take the pimple analogy too far, you can imagine for yourself the white antibodies gathering around the foreign emotions inside of me that are pushing against the surface.  Ready.  So ready with any little bit of prodding to release the pressure.  To pop.  Be careful world, this may all just be a result of fluctuating hormones - but being a pimple is not pleasant.

In the name of procrastination

As it is late-ish on a Saturday night and I have already watched a dumb movie this afternoon - my brain says there is no way that I can do any significant writing for end of term papers - I feel compelled to feel productive.  Posting feels productive.  As it is the last remaining vestige of journaling that I actively maintain (I somewhat compile my communications in a bit of an archive just in case someday I am famous and anyone cares), it is time to lay down some mortar that might stick together the past months.  As it is, I have no evidence online that the Button family continued to exist beyond the year 2014.  We are alive.  The apocalypse did not hit Indiana (although there are rumors that our proximity to Adam-on-diaman may give us some advance warning) and force us into oblivion.  Herein lies the proof:

We packed up and moved into our new house on  December 23rd.  It was the fastest  unpack I have ever done because we needed to have a 'home' atmosphere for Christmas.

In this photo it is very apparent that the elements of tradition that was forcing me to roll sushi on New Years was not personally what I wanted to be doing.  But the kids love it.  With the speed of the move, I am super impressed that I was able to keep up with any tradition.  But with the kids, they are old enough now to keep the guilt trip coming: that is the essence of tradition and as we edit our past when older, each one of those consistent years together will paint a picture of family bliss and fun despite Mom being cranky in 2015.

Josh and I made it to 33.  I don't remember what I got for Josh for his birthday and I only remember going to get some hair coloring done on my birthday...wow that doesn't speak well for early thirties!

Through January and February we had plenty 'snow day' cancellation from school which had nothing to do with snow but with a bit of chilled weather.  We loved having the ambiance of a fire to do some homework by on some of the chill days. I do have amazing kids.  Most of the time we are getting along and enjoy the same activities. 

Snow day core strengthening activities.  Viv is the only one of us with a strong core.  Danny is too ticklish to stay long in an airplane and Faith is floppy.  

So impressive - the kids wrote a play about cats and created costumes.  Day well spent.

January 14th, 2015 my baby turned 8.  Wahoo! I am no longer accountable for her sins!  Really, now we are all just accountable for the emotionality of burgeoning independence.

I couldn't have imagined how beautiful this day would be.  Faith chose to be baptized a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints.  She has such a mature soul and perceptive intellect that the choice was deeply felt by us all and I felt something more pure than proud, perhaps it is joy.

While Grammie and Grampie were in town for the baptism we went out for the first  roller-skating  experience.  The kids were pretty amazing.  Maybe I am a mean mom, but I wouldn't let them use the walkers on wheels as a crutch for learning.  In my opinion, they learned faster than if they had a walker, but I have no proof that there is any correlation.  Mostly it was their determination. 

Disco baby!

March we took a trip over to Columbus Ohio to visit the Ohio State University.  The trip was a combo of PhD program interviewing, temple visit, and most important for the kids - OSU vs Boise State gymnastics meet!  We reconnected with a cousin of mine who joined us at the meet.  It was really cool to see the women gymnasts do some amazing stuff so close up.  We tell Viv were are investing in her college tuition by paying for gymnastic lessons now - no pressure.

I may have gone a bit overboard with the eggs for color, not that the kids minded. And we have a giant yard to hide them in, we just had to make sure we had an accurate count.  

With Auntie Jill living with us she makes sure we schedule plenty of outings to experience life beyond our home.  We watched the IPFW mens baseball up to the 6th inning and decided we are more excited for the Tin Caps season to open than we thought.

The excursion to the game was worth it for Danny who found a ball in the grass and when he tried to return in to the team, they said he could keep it.  Free game.  Free ball.

I've been working hard as a student his past semester and have had some academic honors bestowed upon me.  Fancy.  I presented a couple of my papers at conferences and symposiums and it accumulated in a scholarship award from the department.  I am grateful to have the recognition not to inflate the ego, but rather to be able to celebrate what I am doing as a contribution.  It is nice to know your work is appreciated. 

Whereas I used this blog in one of my research projects on journal writing, which will probably become a theme as I continue to work with family history writing projects, I hope to keep everyone posted. That is, anyone who is still interested in the ancient form of blogging (came out in 2005 and after a decade in the digital world it is basically dino bones).  I teach blogging to my beginning composition students of one the original internet writing genres and LOVE it!

Sincerely yours, me again

I have been laying in bed now for the past hour trying, willing, pleading with my head to turn off so I could go to sleep.  Obviously, I have failed.  I decided, I would try the old method, one I had spent most of the afternoon 'researching' and reacquainting myself with: journaling.

From the age of 8 through 23 I kept a fairly consistent nightly journal.  Through the years I gave different journals names.  I called them my only friend and confidant.  I finally got the the habitual point that would not allow me to go to sleep without first laying the day to rest in textual format.   I say I was 'researching' this afternoon as I was browsing selectively through my journals for references to my sense of identity and family.  I will be drafting an 18 page paper tomorrow that deals with that subject, in which I get to be one of my own research subjects - that is, the past me.

The research brain in me was fascinated with seeing how my writing and voice developed overtime.  There were elements of my writing style which have never changed - that flow of consciousness that is playful and teasing.  Yet there were structural elements that I tinkered with - I can read now how I was intentionally moulding a literate voice full of phrases and terminology that expanded and contracted with my idea of what a good writer was.  Being  literary person really manipulated even my very personal writing.

Beyond the interest in textuality, which I did get past, I began to sink into the ebb and flow over the years of self-doubt, depression, and confidence that I still struggle with now.  I was impressed by the constant struggle with conscious self and mortality.  My thoughts and feelings so often were in contest.  My desires were strong, perhaps the flesh was weak.  I still feel that struggle.  Even looking back at myself from that third-person reader stance, I feel empathy for my own self.  Still, my desires overshoot my behaviors.  I want so much to become that living seems to get in the way.  The massive hurdles of priority and balance, coupled so closely together, often trip me up.  As evident in this past week.

I have been feeling the mounting pressure of the end of semester.  Yet, at the same time, a lot of momentum is building in our family as well.  Pressured by our sellers, we moved our home signing up to Wednesday.  I had not anticipated this large chunk of time devoted to a new house.  On Tuesday the kids got out of school at half day, which meant that I had the remainder of a very important week needing to be devoted to motherhood rather than student work.  I coiled the student-self spring tight inside my chest telling myself I could let it release at certain times when the family did not need me to do some powerful school work.  The coil is still cocked and I am near crazy!

Since the kids got out of school Tuesday half-day, and it was Grandparents day at school, I stayed at the school to help with the event and visit in the kids' classrooms to avoid 2 hours of driving for 2 hours at home.  We had barely recouped from a very stimulating half-day at school when it was the usual racecar rally to various lessons: Faith and Viv start lessons at 4pm, then Danny and I pick up Viv at 5:30, then swing around to pick up Faith by 5:45, come home for quick nacho dinner then all are back in the car to take Danny back to 6:30 tap lessons.  It is a regular Tuesday after school relay in order to clear up other afternoons of the week.  Of course, no school work was fit into that schedule.

Wednesday the house signing went lonnnng.  I then had to take the kids to Grabill for piano lessons since their teachers' car was broken.  We got home around 2pm and had a lot of housework to accomplish.  I want to believe I was productive with all my time that afternoon, but the state of my stress from the coiled spring inside and unexpected timeline shift and sent me into an anxious shock.  I felt good getting a couple layers on the rainbow Jello and watching a movie with the kids.

Thursday Josh was home with us.  He was home with us all weekend.  His presence at home is wonderful.  It was a stay-cation, time devoted to family.  We all chipped in to make a Thanksgiving meal that was delicious, although void of enthusiasm.  I didn't care to invite people over for the meal knowing my emotional instability of late and I missed the family traditions of old.  We at and then digested to "A Muppet Christmas Carol."  Unfortunately, at some point during dinner preparations, we clogged the kitchen sink which made Thanksgiving dishes linger....and linger....and linger...

Friday we got to go to our new home, which is purchased but not yet ready to be lived in, to visualize what life will be like when we move in 21 days from now.  It was Josh's first time in the home.  The sellers took the time to show us the quirks of the home and then left us to measuring and musing.  It took the majority of the afternoon.  We made a quick stop at Lowe's for some boxes to pack away the wall hangings that Josh and I had been pulling off the walls at our current home.  The weekend was devoted to patching walls and painting them to an untouched glory.  After a discussion with the sellers, Josh and I made a very late night decision to do some late night Black Friday shopping to help Santa bring a TV to our family for the first time.

Saturday we waited anxiously for a plumber to finally free the kitchen pipes, which did not happen until late afternoon.  During the morning's frustration we managed to get the Christmas decorations in place to welcome the holiday cheer into this home for one final (to be cut short) season.  Our enthusiasm for preparing for he new  home occupied our spare thoughts, considering these three precious days were the seldom few Josh and I had to discuss ideas and purchases in real time.  We made a fast trip to a furniture store to verify that online prices were better and made it home to more online shopping.  Rugs, rugs, rugs!  It becomes a problem when there really are too many choices.  I became frustrated by Sunday afternoon that we did not close the deal and move on.  I mentally do not have any more time to devote to the new home or Christmas shopping from now until Dec 17th.

Oh boy.  That brings us full circle.  I am in a position recorded through my own history as all too familiar.  I would like to believe that I have trained myself out of procrastination somewhat over the years.  Somewhat.  Yet the last minute pressures still mandate a lot of my writing.  I have learned to do my research and brainstorming well in advanced.  Just the writing.  Thus, I lay in bed tonight trying to memorize the full and complete paragraphs for three different compositions that came began drafting in the crowded space right behind my closed eyelids.  I tried to force them back behind the curtains in order to relax.  I remembered my mother's words "at least let your body rest," as I continued motionless under the covers will my brain was doing gymnastics of all sorts.

I began to pray.  Many nights I have spoken softly with God, allowing Him to help me sort through the various thoughts and laying my burdens and trust at His feet for one more night.  Tonight I remained distracted and in all desperation, unfolded myself from the warm sheets and came back to the computer screen.  If nothing else, staring at a computer screen will unavoidably will me fall asleep.  With eyes throbbing and head pulsing, my body is finally ready to give up for the night, and perhaps, thanks to SKATALAT, the 1995 named version of journal writing, I can let my mind rest as well.

Making our own history

I am glad for the small moments that remind me to take stock of how far we have progressed.  Two projects have been turning my head around and around the concept of making history:

1- Our kids are working on their "personal history" unit at school.  For 1st years (Danny and Viv) they have to bring in photos with descriptions to make a timeline of their life thus far.  Due to the giant hard drive crash of 2013, I have to search through this blog to find photos of the kiddos from 2011-2013.  It reminds me again, that I need to print this thing out so the kids and I can read through those small vignettes that I had wisdom and energy enough to record.  It does go quickly, and I don't remember it all.  Jill and I were talking about the memory processes of small children - only remembering based on photos - I feel I am the same way.  It seems that if it weren't for textual remnants of the past, I might just forget it.  Faith's personal history project is working on a family tree, which is precisely what we are always working on.


2- I have been continuing the archival research for Alonzo Price Bowman through this semester as part of my course work.  I have been developing projects around the historical timeline of his life.  Turns out, Grandpa Alonzo lived through some of the big markers of American History.  The first wave of the project was to create a fully public domain multi-media presentation.  I tracked the first 20 years of Grandpa's life, and here are the highlights:

I just proposed the final project for Grandpa's Life which will include a rhetorical framework to show how it is the small lives that weave into the big histories without which the fibers of our nation would unravel (oh how poetic).

Academics

Just the other night Josh and I had a conversation about what being an 'academic' meant.

I was sharing with him the connective revelations I was making about change and faith from the combining definitions of two books Falling to Heaven by James Ferrell and The Gifts of Imperfection by Brene Brown.  Dr. Ferrell is a gifted scriptorian and his book illuminates the paradoxes of the teachings of Jesus that can help us understand our relationship to God and dependence upon Christ for needed changes.  I had started with Ferrell's book a while back but had become frustrated with the over generalized use of loaded terms such as guilt and admit.  I had paused on his second part of the book called 'The Gift of Guilt" because I could not fit the term 'guilt' into any gift wrapping.  I understood the use of the title - obvious alliteration, sensational paradox - however Ferrell was not specific about what or how he was using the word guilt. I found I had to dig through his analysis of paradoxes too much to find his meaning.  It frustrated me because I wanted to feel enlightened by his scriptural analysis, not frustrated by his poor writing.

I realized my frustration had developed into the complaint "Ferrell is not being specific enough in the use of his words as an academic would."  Josh, of course questioned my complaint.

In contrast, through the gift of a generous friend I had started in on The Gifts of Imperfection and finally found some specified terms that would help me to sort out Ferrell's intensity.  Dr. Brown, having been trained in a specific academic research modual, is very careful to define the usage of any term that may have multiple meanings.  Her research likewise touches on the need to recognize our vulnerabilities and use them to instill confidence in self and action to change.  To me, both books were speaking to the very principle I have been pondering and striving to understand on a personal level: humility.  Yet, it was the combination of the two that allowed me to finally embrace where I am on my personal journey and identify where I am in relation to my Savior and where I would like to be.

So how is it that being more 'academic' about writing allowed me to clarify my own feelings?  I believe it comes down to being open to multiple definitions and allowing your writing to generate continued dialogue between reader and author through turning words and concepts into different points of light.  I had not been able to discuss what guilt was with Ferrell's text; his presumptions statements were so definitive that they could not be defined in any different way.  Brown offered her use of a term and then shared ways in which it would best work in the given research.  Both scholars are equally intelligent, whereas, in truth, one wrote in a style that I have been inculcated in while the other wrote to a different type of audience.

In Josh's opinion, Brown sounded like "one of those hippie-dippy philosophical types of self-help books that don't make any sense" initially.  For him, Brown was opening the subject too wide.  Yet, when I showed him how Ferrell's use of loaded terms without explanation created a whole different set of feelings in the reader, Josh began to understand how being more open in definition develops more personal understanding.  My term for this development of definition was "academic writing."

"So what is academic, then?" asked Josh.  He reminded me of the anecdote of the building mechanic who refused to teach his son any practical skills because he wanted his son to grow up to the be like the professors in the university buildings he maintained that just sat at their desks all day and thought.

Of course I can see how that perception is held.  Academics and research require a lot of reading or studying what others have said and then rolling them around in your head to see if there are other possibilities.  It is through the exploration of possibilities that new solutions or discoveries are made. If we had just accepted the first guesses on any subject there would have been no advancements made.

I offered the second anecdote that illustrated my point of view about academics: A humble worker had once heard a teacher say that they must find ways to expand their mind at all times.  She was skeptical for she sat on steps in an alley way and peeled potatoes everyday.  What was there in her world to expand her mind?  She began to observe the very small ants around her that scavenged the bricks at her feet and found pieces of potato peel.  Her curiosity grew as she watched them more intently and she began to notice patterns in their behavior.  On her day of she went to a library and found that there was very little written about the ants and their behavior, although she was given their name.  Over time, she developed some of the most accurate information about ants and their living systems and habitat that was later published.  All the while, she was just a potato peeler.

Before returning to the academic world, I have spent 6 years as just a homemaker.  Gratefully, my time in undergraduate studies had helped me to understand that my brain could be active at all times so I began doing more than just vacuuming.  I heard the rhythms of the vacuum as I pulled it back and forth and created rhymed meter poems about my vacuum.  While standing for hours at my kitchen sink paring fruit for canning I calculated the average time to fill one quart jar and the average numbers or jars needed, all the way down to knowing the amount of time I spent canning to the ratio of food I prepared for my family in one year to the second.  I learned about landscaping patterns, sustainability practices, psychology of happiness, and early child development.  During the mundane tasks my mind was able to roll around thoughts and feelings to the point of understanding.

 That, to me, is academic.  It is training the brain not to be idle and the heart to desire more than is just placed before you.  Therefore is the reason Josh and I hope our children will chose to attend a university.  Honestly, in today's economy, one is better of learning a specific trade for financial stability than securing stable employment as an 'academic.'  However, the academic person can fulfill any trade and expand their humanity if they have been taught to think and explore new possibilities.

Easter 2014

Although it was difficult to have to with until the 20th of April this year for Easter, it did give us time to get in a bit of green grass and do some home improvement to the front of the house. 

My beautiful matchy family after Easter Church services.

 Josh is now working 50-60hours a week, thus the kids and I waited until almost the last moment to get the Easter eggs wrapped and painted.  Truthfully I have had some suspicious health issues that make me cranky and unenthused about many traditions, and then having to do them alone drags them into a realm of procrastination all their own.

Nevertheless and notwithstanding the personal issues, I had been reading a fabulous chronology of the final week of Christ's life to the kids as their bedtime story (yes, it was a bit over their head, which makes it the ideal bedtime reading because they just tune it out after I give them the highlights and go to sleep) which had emphasized the symbolic reasons we do all the egg/candy/bunny stuff.  It was a perfect year to to be talking about the true meaning of Easter with the kids and they really were interested in knowing about Palm Sunday, Passover, the Last Super, Good Friday and all the rest as we incorporated them into our daily discussions.

 Grammie and Grampie sent us beautiful shrink wraps with Ukranian designs and each of the kids chose some of their dozen boiled eggs to wear the beautiful dress.  It killed me to use them because they were so beautiful and going to be destroyed so soon.  Then it was outside to the backyard for coloring the eggs.

 What a difference a year makes! This year the kids were all about coloring their eggs on their own with no input from me, and they turned out marvelously!  They stayed focused for more than 10 minutes even and I got to sit back and marvel and this lovely stage in their life.  I remember coloring eggs as a kid and being totally enthralled with each color and how deep I could set the dye.  With six kids in the family, Mom must have had at least 3 dozen eggs boiled, it strikes me that we only got 6 eggs each, which may have contributed to my intensity with each one.  My kiddos got to have a full dozen each and did a lot with them!  Yeah for spring weather too, so it could all be done outside without threat to my kitchen or carpets.  Although, they didn't spill any dye this year!  Miracles do happen each year.

 Sunday morning the Easter bunny had traded the eggs for a picture of the Risen Christ and left some Sunday lovely wear for the kiddos.  The kids were waking up before dawn to see if the Easter bunny had come to hide their eggs.  They were anticipating this Ressurection day more than they were Christmas!  I believe so much of it was because of our meaningful discussions during the week.

 We made the kiddos wait until he Sun did rise before they could hunt the eggs in the backyard.  The Easter Bunny knows now he is going to have to be a bit more cunning next year in the hiding places because the hunt was over fairly quickly.

 We had plenty of time before the 11am services to peel all the eggs and make them into the colorful and traditional creamed-eggs over toast.  I loved, again, how much different it was this year having the kids help and their recognition (remembering) which eggs they had painted and even lamented a bit having to peel them.  We made a lot of eggs that day.  Our fridge was full so we needed to eat all 3 dozen boiled eggs.  What we didn't eat for breakfast got added to the luncheon as Sundayed (not deviled, it didn't seem appropriate for Easter Sunday) Eggs and salad.  What a feast.  What a day.  What a reason to celebrate!

Probably the best part of this 2014 Easter Season was listening to the pure and simple faith and testimonies that my children have in the Risen Savior.  Each one, at various parts of our studies and discussion would declare unabashedly that they knew that He was the King and that He was their Savior.  He is risen and our Lord!  What a wonderful thing to learn from my Children.

Life lessons from Burlington to the Book of Mormon

During our  verse-intense scripture study yesterday morning at breakfast we read "And it came to pass that the Lord said unto me; If they have not charity it mattereth not unto thee, thou has been faithful;...(Ether 12:37)"

As I stopped to define all the 'they's and 'thee's Viv paused as if making a deep connection.  This was my secret hope, that our 'mamacita' would recognize that it is a Godly principle to mind your own business.

After a longer than usual pause between breakfast bites she blurts our "Yesterday a lady at Burlington coat factory was not using charity to a grandma."  Yes, she was right.  We had unfortunately been in the kids shoe section when a very unfortunate woman decided to take out some of her agression on an innocent old lady that brushed up against her cart.  It was a very disturbing incident.  I had felt horrible all evening long just recalling what had happened, lamenting that not only the kids were in ear shot, but that I didn't think there was anything I could do but wished badly I could have changed something.

Scenario: A late 20s woman with a large cart containing a child pushes into a shoe aisle.  An older lady, later self-identified as 65, tries to exit the same aisle and bumps the cart since it is a tight fit.  Angry 20something blurts extremely loud "Whoa, you could have at least said excuse me or something!!" acting terribly injured.  The undetermined response must have been apologetic in nature for it was in a low tone and non affronting.  20something retorts "You could have done something instead of just barging past.  You touched my child!! And you don't just touch people's kids without asking!" Another quiet response in which she excused herself with a bit more of defense presumably.  The loud response was "well you need to learn how to respect people and not walk around like you own thing!!" or other likewise rude statement to which the older lady finally loses patience and retaliates "I am 65 years old you little brat! I could be your grandmother!"  I felt the same.  20something was being a complete brat.  Then 20something fumes back "Oh yeah, well you are a B**** !You lucky my gran ain't here because she would ....." At which point gratefully I had found the shoes needed with the kids and started walking away from the shoe section trying to explain to the children what an unfortunate and disrespectful interlude we had overheard. All the while still hearing 20something's declarations of perceived injustice.  

The incident did not sit well with me all evening.  Hearing such rude things and not being able to do much about it makes my heart hurt.  And apparently it affects the little people more than we understand.  The next morning, after ample evening distractions and a full night of sleep Viv recounted "That grandma called the lady a brat and that wasn't nice either. That isn't showing charity."  No, it wasn't we tried to explain, grateful in some sorts for having something real life to relate the scriptures to.  In the middle of our parental wisdom Viv bursts, "And then the lady called the grandma a B****"  Yes she did.  How unfortunate.  How did that make you feel when you heard those words? "Very sad."  So you wouldn't want to be like either of those women and create a situation where you using those words would make anyone else very sad, including your parents. "No."  We can't change what other people do, but we are affected by their choices.  That is why the Lord wants us to focus on what we are doing, to know for ourselves that we have "been faithful" in using charity the best we can.

The lesson ended with the allotted time passing and we had to get off to school.  My heart hurt again for a bit.  I don't think I could have done anything to be a positive example in that situation at Burlington for my children to see.  Although I desperately wanted to step in and defend the 65 year old woman, or at least apologize for 20something, the demeanor of 20something would have just made it more negative and there is a bit to self preservation. I was hurt just overhearing her mean words, being in the middle would have been worse and I would have lost my cool.  So all my kids heard was their conversation and their mother's dismissive comments about rude and uncharitable treatment of others in the shoe aisle.

This morning, as we reviewed the first part of verse 37 from the previous day and moved onto the rest, I felt like Moroni maybe hit the feeling spot on, although a bit haughty:
"(Lord speaking still) wherefore, they garments shall be made clean. And because thou hast seen thy weakness thou shalt be made strong, even unto the sitting down int he place which I have prepared in the mansions of my Father." The kids immediately pointed to our drawing on the wall which we have been relating to since the first of this chapter in Ether-

note that there is a seat on the right hand of God for the believers.  As we read in this part of Ether that another qualifications to fill that seat is to demonstrate charity and also have been washed clean through the Savior's atonement.  

Moroni continues his thoughts in verse 38: "And now I, Moroni, bid farewell unto the Gentiles, yea and also unto my brethren whom I love, until we shall meet before the judgement-seat of Christ, where all men shall know that my garments are not spotted with your blood."

There it was, Moroni felt it, I feel it sometimes too.  I can't be responsible for all those nasty people in the world, I just have to focus on myself and the kids.  But it does sound a little haughty don't you think that Moroni professes he will be there looking back on everyone else, with a tinge of self-righteous omnipotence knowing he is clean?  Granted he is a prophet and running away from all the bad guys on the planet who want to kill him at every minute (this is Moroni's second good-bye speech in the Book of Mormon, and not his last).  But, the picture I get feels really self-justifying; perhaps because I am putting myself in Moroni's spot and looking back at 20something.  

(obviously I have not got the whole charity thing down quite right yet)

Godly Parenting

Parenting in in this century is hard.  Even the definition of what parenting is has me a bit confused on days (I have been trying to create a working definition for my research and it is a kerfuffle).  But I don't need to go to the internet to tell me that parenting is hard.  I have kids.  They let me know every day that there is a lot of work involved in this precious work of developing souls into the people they are meant to be.  As I have been searching through the historical literacies to contemporary blogs looking for where mom's are instilling morals in their wee ones, I realize that being a moral mother is a daily battle.

At the end of the day, I am a Bible-based parent trying to be a Christian woman.  I think that encompasses as much moral guidance as I can muster for three kids and a lifetime of guilt for not having done it good enough.

There has been as storm of mental hurricanes swirling around my head since Sunday.  It all started with the candid conversations with Viv.

It had been a rough week.  The kids were out of school for fall break Thurs-Monday.  That meant a reintroduction to the types of energy cocktails we have in our little people.  Things can get a bit rocky and as a parent, we sometimes get a bit too reactionary.

Here is the document that evolved out of it all by Thursday night:

Unacceptable behaviors:

1- Lying

2- Disrespecting anyone in the family

3- Refusing to talking during ‘conversations

4- Willful disobeying

Told us:

-everyone at home makes her mad/frustrated

-she doesn’t like/love Mother or Father

-likes her teachers more so that is why she is better at school

-Doesn’t ever want to have conversations

-when asked why she said “Oh my God!” during play, she first said her Dad says it (which we never take the name of the Lord in vain) and then refused to say where she had heard or learned the term, she is aware that cussing is unacceptable behavior

• says she hits her sister Faith because “she won’t ever listen to me”
• Viv will not self-entertain and when engaging with siblings (her only option at home) has to be in the position of authority, dictating the game, or pestering them to get the attention she wants
• she always answers her teachers immediately and truthfully

We Told her:

-Based on the information we received from school evaluations (PTC)it is clear to us that her behaviors are choices based on audience (home vs. school) and our expectation is equal treatment, at least, in the home

• Because we love her, we will base our parenting on her potential not her current behaviors i.e. we believe she will succeed in life if she eradicates unacceptable behaviors so we are willing to do whatever it takes to help her get rid of them now, including spankings (which is standard with the other children)
• Made it clear that our treatment of her will be no different than her siblings because she is not any different, which will change some of our reactions to her whereas we have given her more options or chances for behavioral change she will now have the same expectations as the other two (comply or consequence)

Catalyst Day (Thursday October 24, 2013):

After many days of counseling as a family, as a couple, and introspection as parents we recognized recurring patterns:  All behaviors with Mom were either decidedly defiant and oppositional or manipulatively sweet it draw attention away from other siblings and interactions with Dad were to ‘win him over’.  On a day out of school the behaviors were so pronounced at home that we felt it necessary to make immediate changes.  We always show a unified front in all decisions made regarding what parenting choices we are making for her, even though now she has made a stand that she is not making any choices with us.   As Parents: we are trying to inform before any consequence occurs so they do not seem as unruly punishments but direct result of behaviors.  We have decided that she will no longer be given the option/consequence of going to her bed because it has become apparent that she prefers not to have to deal with the issue at hand and seeks to be sent to her bed as soon as possible to avoid processing and hopes the delay will redirect the consequence.

I look at it now and think - maybe a bit harsh. But when you are dealing with a really, uh.....special child, things are harsh.  Friday I went to parent teacher conferences to see if Josh and I were just seeing everything through a tainted class.  Yes, Viv is highly distractible and has some rough social patches at school, but everyone is super optimistic.  I got a bit of perspective about how she is working at school.  Basically the same things at home, she just has a more structured (?) or better (!) environment at school that makes her feel successful.  I am so glad!!  That is all we want for her as parents is for her to successfully figure out the labyrinth of her brain so that her life is successful.

With Friday's perspective, and help from my sister with Saturday's events (well all tend to push problems aside when family is visiting), we made it through with out any major issues.  After some long naps on Sunday we all sat down for some heart warming eats.  Josh took the more calm environment to have little introspective talk with Viv when the other kids were finished (Viv is always the last to finish because she gets distracted even when eating food).

Josh opened the conversation with:
"I know we had a few rough days back there.  Is there anything you want to ask me about the new expectations?"

Viv: "Why do I have to have consequences?"

Josh gave me a calming glance that had "Chill out, I've got this" written all over it.  He knew I was still pretty heated about things and often feel that her questions are a bit, well, manipulated or manufactured.  He can often give a more genuine approach to things.

Josh: "Why do you thing we have consequences?"  Ah yes, use the best of the communication tactics available from "How to Talk so Kids will Listen & Listen So Kids will Talk."

After appropriate stall for a bite of food and dramatic draw of attention, Viv: "Because that is how we learn?"

Sounds reminiscent of a lesson we may have had a thousand million times.  Josh illustrates with the available fork why it is good to learn from consequence instead of continually stabbing yourself in the hand over and over again with the pointed prongs of unwise choices.

Viv: "But I don't like consequences."
Josh: "That's why we have them.  Would you ever learn anything new if you knew you could get ice cream by just doing the same thing all the time?"
Viv, with a unwanting air to admit it; "I guess not.  I should learn."

Their conversation continued a bit longer with some semi-satisfying results and Josh ends his portion of the discussion with a giant squeezing hug telling Viv how much he loves her and how much she believes in her ('reprove betimes with sharpness and show an increase of love after"+ practicing what he is reading in "Building Confidence in your Child" + Josh's amazing ability to forgive and forget until the next infraction).  Josh then nods over her tiny shoulder toward me, the muted observer that I should follow suit and frankly forgive her for the past 4 days of emotional turmoil and confidence destroying tactics that she and I have jointly gone through.  Viv suspects that the pregnant pause also means it is now Mommy's turn to chime in on the subject.  I gather up all my mothering instincts to be the bigger person, and surrender them to my personal wounds:

Me: "Viv, I have a question.  Why should I have to forgive you over and over again when you show no signs of really repenting?"

With a slight tilt of the head and her biggest brown eyed practiced innocence, "Because you love me.?" Her answer was a statement, yet when she saw the skeptical response in my face she retracted her confident body language back into a question, showing me that I was supposed to explain it to her.  Josh's eyes also lazer-beamed a grown up look into my person, probably trying to awaken that grown-up I had shoved out of the way earlier.

"God loves all His children, but He can't bless them until they repent."

It was a semi-textual example of how the Bible can truly be used for situational advantage.

In truth, I don't remember where the rest of the conversation went with Viv because I got side-tracked with the fact that I may have just twisted doctrine to suit my preferences.  In my personal conviction of religious perspective I really try to keep a textual connectedness to all principles taught from scripture and abhor the extracted use of words for isolated benefit.  But when it comes to examples of parenting through the scriptures, it gets rather confusing.

God's adjust for each of His children through time.  There is the vindictive role of God in the Old Testament who punishes with candor. Yet, the moments of tender instruction to His prophets illuminates the willing forgiveness on the edge of the clouds for all of Abraham's seed, His chosen people.  It makes like children of Israel look like real idiots when they can't get their act together and just get out of the wilderness.  And what about the God of deliverance that helps poor Joseph rise from the bottom of the pits and prison to rule over all Egypt?  The lesson is that parenting is situational.  Or is the lesson that some kids are just better than others so it is easier to bless them?

Within the last years I read a inspiring parenting help book entitled "5 Spiritual Solutions for Everyday Parenting Challenges" by Richard and Linda Eyre, the founders of Joy Schools.  Their second suggested solution is "Remember God's Parenting Patterns."  They pull 15 patterns out of the scriptural accounts of God's dealing with His children.  Some resonate more prolifically with my own nature:
 3. God gives clear, simple laws with will-announced consequences, rewards, and punishments.
 8. God has a plan of happiness for His children
15. God makes family central to all and the core of His purpose.
And some just seem a bit non-applicable:
11. God sent His eldest son to help and save us.
12. God sends angels.
Others are still in the works for me personally, and obviously stumbling blocks for my relationship with Viv in particular:
1. God grants us complete, unconditional love.
4. God allows His children the chance to repent.
5 God taught us and trained us and held us close throughout the premortal life, and then He gave us choices and let us go.
13. God finds joy in His children and in His relationship with them.

Graciously, God is my Father, and is perfect in those points of parenting I struggle with.
2. God sees (and treats) each child as a unique and eternal individual.
In other words, I needn't worry if Viv is one who needs washed out in a flood or lifted from the ashes, I need to work with the individual she is and figure out how to get a bit closer to God so He can help me with her.  In my calm moments, I can see that and feel that.  It is in the more mortal moments that I loose my footing.  The best lesson in forgiveness will be in trusting that the Lord will forgive me for those moments I really messed it up with Viv.  She already forgives me.  That is humbling.  Because I love her, and I really really do, I will forgive and learn, too.  In parenting, we must always remember that we are just as much a child in God's eyes.

Yeah, she's cute and she know's it.  Lil stinker

Cheering us on

I feel as though I am not a very consistent person, but I have consistent desires to be one of those people.  Writing falls under that category; I feel as if I loose the vibe than I am too far behind to catch up.  However, recent events have taught me to appreciate even the less inspired entries in the life of the Button Family.

To begin, I feel as though there is great need to send out some more joy and rejoicing!!

Applause for Blogger!
Now this blog contains some of the most precious things to me - pictures.  Within the last month our Mac had a pretty severe heart attack, or stroke, whichever mainstay body organ you would equate the hard drive of a computer.  It died.  We saw some warning signs, but did not take it to the doctor before they called the time.  Within that oh so dead hard drive are ALL our photos.  I know, backup and so forth, and we tried, just not often enough and this was before the invention of iCloud.  Now, all I want for Christmas is my pictures back, which may be possible in a clean room environment by some highly trained specialist, and to me, it is worth it.  Thank heavens I have been putting at least some snippets of life here, with photo evidence.

Hooray for Housewives!
I have had a bit of a showdown with my feminist teacher in my Women's Literacies course.  Some conversations were unpleasant, but I was bold in a way I felt I must (and feel very relieved to have heard echoed sentiments in the 183rd semi-annual general conference) and in a small way, triumphant.  Through persistence I have found a way to make sure feminist theory not overshadow the authentic feminine voice and have determinedly shown a true representation would be more humble and reflective of the sensibilities that make women excellent housewives!  I have felt so inspired that I have decided to formulate a whole years work on the subject, in the form of a master's thesis.  Ah! Finally to be inspired by a cause that speaks so clearly to who I am and what I stand for in an academic community that has been misrepresenting authenticity!  High point: my professor admitted to the class that if any woman were to suscribe to a feminist view point they must admit that feminism, as a body of theory and movements associated with it, has made some pretty harsh mistakes which still hold the name under a wicked lens. Own up to it, and then you are able to really understand what the third wave movement is all about.  And yes, I consider myself a feminist activist, and I will more than likely explain more about that as research continues.

Hats of for Dental Insurance!
We did our before-school-check-ups on the kids' teeth.  After our last multiple procedure visits in AZ for Faith and Danny we had decided to pay dental insurance - and hooray we did!  Faith had swallowed her crown and Danny's two front teeth were rotting at the roots.  Again, Viv gets high honors for having the world's wonder enamel with no needed dental attention beyond a bit of plaque.  End result, three removed teeth.  Faith had the rotted crownless tooth removed and Danny, well, we shall say that hearing the 'original' version of "all I want for Christmas" is delightful.

Last time with front teeth for years to come.

Two small treasures at one big price.

Small and strange perks of Indiana, what fun!

In the small quiet town where Josh practices medicine, the world's largest historic car auction happens yearly!  I think all the citizens of the town also own historic cars, for not only are there lots full of cars for auction prices, every house in town has a beautiful car sitting out in the front yard with a for sale sign.  I can't wait until we have money....I have my eye set on a few beautiful models.  It is a car lovers dream, and here we are in the middle of it!

And three cheers for finding what you don't need!

This is the house that Josh and I had envisioned as our forever home.  In the country with a wrap around porch.  Bonus for being in the correct location.  Naturally, when I saw a for sale sign in the front yard I convinced Josh that it would be worth our while to go walk through it, just to make sure that we didn't miss our opportunity.  Turns out the house is dreamy.  We did our research, and in so doing found an even dreamier home.  We tried to hurriedly get our ducks in a row to put an offer on our dream home, that was for real and for sale.  Turns out, ducks don't like being rushed or herded.  Although we did eventually round up enough of the appropriate ducks, our dream house had already floated out of our reach.  This house is still there.  We see it daily.  But we now know what ducks are ready and which are not and are happy to just stay in our own little pond and keep dreaming.  Dreams are useful, but it makes the most financial sense to live in what you can afford right now.

The sunflowers were incredible and made the house so quaint.

Our neighbor put up the picket fence and I like how nice it makes our home look.

As of Sept. 2nd we had put in a lot of work into this home, and it shows.

Backyard particularly has transformed with grass, fencing, 

and the almost finished garden.