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.

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.

LaFoo, I'm afraid I've been thinking....

While driving, daily, to kids school, from kids school, to my school, home again, I have taken to driving with my thoughts as passenger. A dangerous pastime, I know.

Luckily my mind is in a positive spot to talk with me and the dialogue has been helpful. Here is what we have concluded:

I really love Viv.  October is a month that used to be about Josh and I and our wedding, but now with Viv being nearly 7, it is even more about Viv than it was four years ago when she took over the month by storm.  Viv's birthday is in....2 days.  She turns 7.  She is still so small and learning so much, I don't accept it well, but I enjoy her so very much.  In conversation with other mothers recently they commented on the perfect family: one boy child one girl.  We had that with Faith and Danny but it wasn't a perfect family.  I haven't recognized as much as I ought how perfectly Viv fits in this family.  She is celebrating 4 years in our family, 2 years fully adopted, and a Halloween that isn't scary to any of us.  I love her intensely.  She is the drama in my life - the type that you see in good movies that makes your heart leap and twist and turn and sigh.  SO AMAZING!!  You should see her joy and perseverance every day. I love her.  I love her.

I love all my family.  Family in all sorts of ways.  I am fighting academically right now to recognize the struggles that we go through within families as significant as a 'master narrative.'  Why do I need society on the outside too?  I have a future with fighting in this arena - families are communities.  Families are where identity starts and ends.  Self is represented in all sorts of social contexts but it is permanently influenced by family. I just gotta get more serious about writing out all these thoughts.

I don't like being told no.  If it is for my safety, say no.  Otherwise, don't limit me.  Don't tell me I can't have it, or become that, or dream it.  Don't tell me that.  I've been constrained enough.  If God wants me to reach my full potential, who are you to tell me I don't have it in me?  Give me a chance, and don't underestimate what I can do.  I am amazing.  And so are you; so take your own advice.

Life is about choices. We all make them and I would argue when know when we are making them. We way the cost and then we just go for it.  I have a a pretty strong base for the choices I make but still find myself calling myself into question sometimes.  I make mistakes.  I am okay with that.  I am not rationalizing when I make my choices or evaluate the choices I have made.

I am in charge of my own body.  I don't like pharmaceuticals.  They make my brain not my own.  If I can't communicate clearly with my brain, I'm in trouble.  I have physical limitations; it is really hard to hurt.  Hurting is not all bad as long as I am comfortable mentally.  Always good to feed the body and the mind and make connections with people.

Okay.  I was hoping that I could get the writing juices going because I need write a dialogue paper in the next hour and a half.  So here's my non-academic voice, at least I can use that in the upcoming paper....

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.

Grace and a visit with Grandpa

I have been lurking around the blogosphere since our recent return from a long and lovely vacation.  It is like getting reacquainted with an old friend and just enjoying listening.  I am content not to get into all the posting of my own life because I enjoy other people so very much; their creativity, their realism, their love and heartache.  Life is beautiful from every sphere.  Even when life is coming to an end.

First and foremost in my mind from our trip was my most favorite part: a visit with Grandpa Alonzo Bowman and his angel wife Alice in Packwood, Washington.  The inception of our cross-country vacation came from the realization after a semester-long biographical project on Grandpa's life that there was so much more to know about this great man.  He turned 90 in April.  The fragility of life loomed around the corner and we knew it was time to act. ( I wished I felt that same pleasant pressure to line up our life and finances to enjoy all the people I love in our life, or at least had the resources to act upon them)  In God's good grace, and it is extremely gracious and loving, we were able to plan out the extreme vacation through 10 states, over the two major rivers in this grand country, through 4 National Parks and over the continental divide with the peaceful valleys of family visits in between.

Josh found a medical conference in Seattle that allowed him to join us for time in Washington and the two most meaningful days of our whole trip.  As Josh finished out his speed-learning session on basically everything a PA needs to know and I had rounded up the kids from 4 fabulous days with my best friend Kristen and clan, we went south around Mount Rainier into the peaceful retirement community of Packwood.  Grandpa and Alice had agreed to let us visit with him with audio recorders, video recorders, and a whole lot of curiosity.  During my 4 month ethnographic and archival research surrounding the life of Alonzo Price Bowman I had learned so much, and thirsted for more.  There was a beautiful development within the family as we all turned our hearts and eyes inward on the jewels of history that were right within our family.  Josh and I talked almost weekly with Grandpa for about 20 minutes, but his attention span did not go beyond that, leaving me with more inquiries on the tip of my tongue.  We would research around the details he had given, then wait for another conversation on Sunday nights.

While in Packwood we had two glorious hours of stories and smiles.  Grandpa sat at ease in his favorite rocker casually talking with me, looking past the iPad I held to record it all.  Grandma Alice entertained the kids with tricks and coloring and interjected her humble and faithful opinions throughout Alonzo's narrative.  Before arriving we had arranged to meet with them the following morning but had to be sensitive of their comfort and energy levels.  As we closed our evening talks and determined to meet for breakfast at a local diner, I was gloriously happy.  My love for Grandpa and Grandma Alice had increased almost as fast as the Grinch's heart.

As we phoned Grandpa on our way to the hotel to tell him the breakfast joint didn't open until much later than we had decided upon for breakfast, he declined from meeting with us the next morning at all.  I was heartsick. Even as the kids (especially Danny) were SOOO excited that there were elk in the fields surrounding our hotel room, I felt so cheated.  We were spending the night in a hotel so we could see Grandpa the next morning and that was not going to happen.  We went to bed that night, together, looking forward to breakfast alone the next morning.

Josh is the early riser in the family and had gone for an early run as he awoke (our hotel strategy for not waking the rest of us up quite yet, he goes to the workout room) in the quiet misty mountain streets of Packwood.  He, as I, was praying that we would find a way to meet with Grandpa one more time before we left and felt the impression that he might see him on the roads.  So Josh turned his run around toward the hotel, and with a small miracle, ran right into Grandpa Alonzo as he was turning out of our hotel parking lot.  Grandpa had not seen us in the breakfast area (seems that these too men have an inherited trait of waking early) and thought to move on.

I awoke to Josh's jubilant voice opening our hotel room door and ushering Grandpa in.  No one was upset to be awakened to the soft and sweet voice of Grandpa Alonzo's polite excuses.  He spent an hour with us, having brought a special momento from his war days to share with us: a hand carved wooden shoe with his infantry symbol (the Cross of Lorraine) and the names and dates of every city he fought through during his 18 months in World War II.  I was giddy.  A bit bleary eyed, but giddy.

Just as we arrived back home in Indiana after another 3 weeks on the road, we heard from Mom that Grandpa was rapidly loosing weight.  Having a medical provider as a husband, we both knew what rapid weight loss meant after relatively good health.  Grandpa is now on hospice, back in Packwood after asking to have "no more pokes' from the good staff of Providence hospital in Olympia.

With grace and an open heart we thank God for letting us be with Grandpa Alonzo this summer.  And with some grace and agency, we hope to be with him, and many other revered family members who have gone on to their heavenly home, once our journey on earth is complete.  Family is everything.

Finding my soul in one semester past

 Somewhere in the organized jumble of my office wall, a small paper has been holding blog posts unwritten.  I jotted the idea down as they came somewhere between all the other writing I have been doing.  And they will wait a bit longer.

This past semester I have written - composed and typed on the computer, sometimes handwriting them on back pages of texts books - more pages of text than ever before in my life.  It should be expected, of course, since I am a composition and rhetoric emphasis in a master's program. Here is there real break through though - I HAVE LOVED IT ALL!

Seriously.  When in my life have I ever had to seriously edit back my thoughts so as to not exceed my 20 page limit for a research project?  When you have been writing 1-3 page responses on 75-150 page readings for two classes every week for 16 weeks and you are still mega excited about writing your final project such that I was NOT up until the last minute turning them in.

What has been so intriguing Nancy?  I feel like I have finally found my soul in writing.  Things that I have believed are meaningful and I have wanted to present somewhere in written form are finally finding their niche.  Two courses guided me into this happy valley of compositional bliss: Family History Writing and Composing Communities.

The two courses converged in giving me a space to write academically about the influence of literacy on the concept of identity and how communities affect that self-identification as well.  The literate world, or the way in which we learn to learn, whether it be by text or other means, is where we shape who we are and cannot be considered in isolation.  I have felt this concept so strongly in three places; Myself as represented in years of journals, My family where I have learned the most and still claim the largest parts of my identity, and My faith and religious training throughout my life.

In my final synthesis paper for the Family History Writing course I was able to kick start what I feel will be a massive and wonderful venture for a career:

Over a four month period, I was introduced to the nuanced and burgeoning possibilities of family history writing within literacy studies.  As a developing field, our course goals aimed to review and reap as much academically relevant material to define the scope of this writing community.  Benedict Anderson wrote in Imagined Communities that boundaries of communities, although defined, are elastic.  He theorized that membership within a community may not necessarily be based on face-to-face contact, as it once was, but on the largely text based boundaries that maintain unique identity while encompassing larger more vaguely defined groups.  This definition of community is useful in looking at the group of people engaging in family history writing, as well as the communities they are writing about – families.

Because of the marginalized position of family history writing within composition disciplines and methodology, much of the synthesis and defining of what family history writing comes from the contextualization of personal family history writing as supplemented by the ongoing understanding of where that writing would fit within an academic framework.  Although the purpose of this synthesis is not to argue the validity of family history writing academically, it does hope to carve out a meaning and purpose for writing done within multigenre and multimodal rhetorical and literary studies.  What I feel is most poignant therefore, is to define the family and theorize by whom it should be written to emphasize that meaning within academia.

Theorizing and synthesizing family history writing has allowed me to feel more a part of the community of family history writers as well as a more aware part of my own family community.  Being part of a community is more about the individual investment in the meanings, values, and relationships of the community than about defining boundaries.  No specific methodology or theory can teach so many of the intrinsically felt spaces within a community, even within a writing genre.  As boundaries are crossed, extended and expanded, writing studies are becoming more elastic and stretching the abilities of our understanding about literacy and relationships.  We family history writers make our own meanings, and in that way, prove to academia that our subject is of worth.  It is writing essential to a broader definition of identity, and close enough to home for all of us to make changes.  What becomes accessible through the diligent and mulit-modal work of family history writing is more than stories, lineage, and historical facts, it is the identity that creates us all from the very foundation up.  We give testimony and permanence to the sensitive and nuanced definition of who family is and where they fit in a broader spectrum. 

That is the beginning and end of 18 pages of passionate writing combining two courses that led me to the gate.  Here I finally am, where I start on my real journey to fulfilling one of my dreams to write, and I am passionate about it!  I have a list of books to read over the summer, none of which would sound interesting to anyone outside of literacy studies, unless they really loved me and were patient enough to fein interest.  One square of that messy wall of cork board (the original Pintrest ya'll) is covered in articles I have found during research that I have read and will use in a thesis paper next year or just enjoy reading.  The other squares help keep me grounded and rounded; my dreams and positive statements square, the landscaping and home improvement square, calendaring square, home management, and kid school stuff.  I am a well squared person you might say.

At the end of a blissful semester and stressful season of life, my husband ordered me a rad gift to celebrate all the time I had spent typing in front of the home office computer.  I think he is finally realizing that I will be doing more writing, not less, and wishes to save my aching back.  Although my alley trash duct-taped 3-legged chair was functional in the sense I could sit on it so long as I jammed the 4th leg in at the right angle and sat quickly, this new gift is a fine improvement.

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

Magic Playhouse

October 5th 2013.  A slightly gray and rainy day.  The weather was trying to switch between summer and fall, but the air still held onto the sweet warmth of summer fun.  It was Saturday, and the indoors were already boring the creative and amazing three Button children.  

Mom released them to the outdoors, realizing that a little rain couldn't hurt and you don't honestly catch a cold from getting your feet wet.  It seemed they had disappeared for a bit after some jubilant dancing in the falling downpour.  

Mom watched from the indoor kitchen window as the little people disappeared one by one into the small playhouse.  Although she knew they were safe in their little world, and being in the playhouse was most likely the most dry place to play outside on such a rainy day, Mom was curious.  She snuck out the door to see what was holding them in their little house.

As Mom arrived within ear shot she heard the familiar phrase : "The wind began to blow.
It blew harder and harder.
The house started to spin.
Faster and faster!
Danny squeezed his eyes shut.
Then everything was still.  Absolutely still."

As some may recognize, the children had just replayed the very sequence from "Magic Tree House" reading series.

As they stepped out of the house, the described to each other their new surroundings and the adventure that lay ahead for them.  They were in Easter land!  There were colorful eggs all around.  And danger!  There was danger there....over there!

Mom slipped back indoors, knowing that adults create only the safe bounds in which children are free to imagine, but when they encroach, the magic dissipates.  Mom could wait until they pointed at the picture of Fort Wayne and whirled home in their magic playhouse.

The quality of equality OR no need for the knee-jerk reactions

As part of my recent critical academic research I have realized a deeply embedded truth of my own.  Happily, this truth is supported by a great many smart people, people that I revere and hope to 'fit in' with in a professional way.  The quality that runs oh so deep in my belief is:

There is no reason to fight when you have truth on your side.  And more importantly, it is only through respectfully understanding both sides of the issue can you positively affect others of either persuasion by your own stance.

Here are a few statements from very different genres that have enjoined the 'Hallelujah" chorus of my soul in some of my recent readings.
From Jennifer Cruise, a New York Times best-selling author in the romance genre: (full article here)

So what do we do about this? How can we win in the face of this unfairness?

Well, we can calmly point out the intellectual dishonesty of those who criticize the entire genre instead of individual books. We can argue that romance fiction is maligned because it’s so threatening to rigid political and academic structures. And we can show that it’s actually one of the more honest forms of fiction being written about women today.

But the truth is, that’s all probably a waste of time because the critics don’t matter, the readers do; we don’t write to please establishments, we write to reach women. And by writing good books, we counteract decades of pessimism with narratives of realistic optimism, we break through knee-jerk limitations on women imposed by both the political right and the political left, and we refute the sterile elitism of current literary criticism. We entertain, we enlighten, we empower, and in the end we influence far more people than any of our critics ever will. As much fun as it might be to bring the critics to their knees, we really don’t need to. In every way that matters, we’ve already won.

Written about Terryl Givens, a dominant Mormon Studies professor and co-author of "The God Who Weeps":

Grant Hardy, a history professor at the University of North Carolina-Asheville, said there is no one he would rather argue with than Givens.

“He’s articulate and he’s sharp; very prolific,” Hardy said. “I don’t always think he gets everything right, but he gets things wrong in interesting and provocative ways, and that’s useful for scholarly dialogue.”

Givens doesn’t believe in separating spiritual commitments from his professional vocation, thanks to a statement by the Prophet Joseph Smith, which reads, “It is our duty to concentrate all our influence to make popular that which is sound and good.” The LDS professor was determined to integrate his faith and professional life.

“It behooves us both as scholars and disciples to find that which is praiseworthy and celebrate it,” Givens said. “Whether that’s in the spirit or in the mind, intellect or culture, that’s what I’ve sought to do as a professional and a disciple.” (article here)

And a bit from Joanna Brooks, also know as "The Book of Mormon Girl," a scholar that has been a dominant voice for Mormon's in mainstream and contemporary conversations:

Perhaps there was a time when the dominant patterns of economic and family life and the infrastructural demands of growing a worldwide church made it very pragmatic to map the entire administration of the church onto a gendered division of labor. But surely that time is past.  Gendered divisions of labor make less and less sense in the context of emerging twenty-first century patterns of economic and family life.  All around me I see working Mormon women—wage stagnation (and increased corporate profit-taking) since the 1970s makes the two income family basic reality for all but more affluent LDS people.  And all around me I see Mormon men profoundly involved in the parenting and nurture of their children.  Some men are outstanding nurturers, in fact, and some women are not; some women are incredible analysts and administrators and some men are not.  Why should these capacities not all be honored as sacred and useful, regardless of gender? Put-your-shoulder-to-the-wheel egalitarianism in Church administration and leadership seems more in keeping with the pragmatic spirit of Mormonism than a biological essentialism-driven folk doctrine that would prioritize the performance of nineteenth- and early twentieth-century Euro-American gender roles over the work of salvation.

For me, the questions about priesthood, gender, and authority outnumber the answers.  I have faith the day will come when the questions will have answers.  I do hope that day will come sooner than later.  But without waiting, with no theological change at all, there is so much that can be done to manifest a greater commitment to gender equality in a faith that teaches that all are alike unto God. (full article here)

What each of these excerpts illuminates is a willingness to engage the conversation from an equally respectful point of view, hum over it for a bit, and then stick your ground.  They each convey a simple commitment to what they believe without having to "put on the gloves."  To be able to discuss things having been informed of both sides and  be useful in the dialogue is my hope.  So wonderful to feel the truth in many different avenues (as you can see from three very different sources above!).

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.