Saturday, November 23, 2024

The Wrath was the Mercy

A few months ago it suddenly hit me, at 36 years old, what the fairy tale of Rapunzel was actually about. 30 years after hearing the story.

I had always hated the story. I thought the Prince was a real jerk. He didn't rescue her from the tower, but rather, kept her there, and visited her many times, and got her pregnant. She was a peasant. He was a prince. He had more power than her.  The Prince in Rapunzel seemed like he wasn't all that interested in getting her out. (Unless he was abysmally stupid, and didn't know about the invention of the rope.) She didn't even seem to know what a man was, let alone sex, let alone pregnancy, by her asking the Witch why her belly was growing. I thought he sounded like a Uppity boy taking advantage of a naive girl. I found the story icky, because of the Prince. I even thought darkly that the ending was suspicously 'too happy' with the blinded beggar prince finding Rapunzel in the end in the wilderness and seeing again. When I read kiddie version trying to sanitize the unwed-pregnancy part of the tale I saw through them as the weak attempts at retconning honor for a disappointing prince ('they sorta had a secret wedding in the tower before she got pregnant...but no, he didn't take her home'  and "she said to the witch 'you are heavier than the prince' so it wasn't that the witch found out she was pregnant....but then she had babies so um, yeah, she was pregnant....")

When Tangled came out when I was 22 or so, I said "Ahh, they fixed it" when Eugene turns out to be a nice gentlemanly peasant-thief who doesn't trick her or climb her hair. She is the princess, she holds the power, Eugene never takes advantage of her, physically or any other way. He climbs the tower with his own strength, not tricking her into using hair, and she's the one always trying to kiss him. I said with relief that it was "uncreepified" from the original tale.

And then, at 36 years old, out of the blue, slightly sick and in my jammies, I started crying one morning at breakfast, when I realized the whole point of the fairy tale.

The point was that the Prince wasn't being above board. And he also makes an infinite amount of sense. After learning a lot more about both politics and history, in blood-monarchies it was of infinite importance whom a prince married and procreated with. Even in the pagan times. Constantius left both his peasant wife Helena and his son Constantine, for a chance to marry the noble woman and be Emperor of Rome. Alexander the Great had a kid with a political nobody, at 16 before heading off to conquer the world and pick his royal bride(s) at 30. This list could easily fill pages.

Then, in the Christian era, when annulments weren't as easy to procure as Roman divorces, there always was the common-law wife on the side. The "wives the Danish [pagan] way" as the Saxons would say. Henry II did it. Many many princes did it. (even dear Harold Godwinson had his 'danish-style' common-law wife before he got engaged to the Northern Lady/Princess at being made king at 40) Noble men resigned themselves to often having to wait over a decade before the official noble wife was found, at the right moment when they ascended to their full power, and saw the most pressing alliance that their country required. Telling a passionate 17 yr old that he has to wait, perhaps till he's 35, to have sex when he marries the right princess...they tried to find ways to have what they wanted but still keep their future political options open.

And so the prince in Rapunzel, was in fact, acting like a prince---historically, realistically, pragmatically anyways. He knew that there would be political complications to anything he did. After all, bastard sons can figure-head factions for the throne. Civil War and differing claimants to succession was an always a looming threat. And then, suddenly, out hunting, alone, here's his chance. He meets a peasant girl in the woods in a tower, completely unconnected to politics, that no one else knows is even there...and now he can kiss and all, with no political repercussions whatsoever. Perhaps he meant to abandon her when he got his political marriage in the vague future. Perhaps he intended to keep her as his 'danish wife' indefinitely, not abandon her, just have both at once (and hide his secret tower family from his eventual noble bride). Perhaps he told himself he would take her away from the tower and bring her home, when he had the courage to do so. But whatever he intended, in the fairy tale, he kept her secret for some time, while visiting her in a conjugal fashion, which is how he got caught by the witch. Rapunzel asks the witch to help her get her dress on, and asks her why her belly is growing, and the whole thing comes down like a house of cards. 

And judgment comes down hard. He's blinded. He loses everything. Because he was keeping it all a secret, his servants don't even know where he is. He's lost in the wilderness, a blinded prince, no ID cards, no servants, no credentials, nothing to prove who he is. The Politics he treasured, that kept him keeping the girl a secret, now have abandoned him.  Not even with the peasant-wife. He's alone. He's a nobody. He's a blind involuntarily-celibate nobody---less than a peasant. He can't even find work in a manual labor-culture & warrior culture, being blind was to be useless. He is wandering around homeless, perhaps begging, or scrounging, trying to find enough calories to survive another day.

And he gets that for years and years. 

But the story doesn't end there. 

Because in the wilderness...like something out of the book of Hosea...He finds his children and his woman, that he would have abandoned for fear of losing everything. Crying on him, hugging him, kissing him, and miraculously, he can see again. 

He loses everything....and gains everything in the end. Instead of a guilty secret on his wedding to a princess...he can hug his children and Rapunzel no longer abandoned.

So that morning in the kitchen, 25 years of disliking this fairy tale, I now was sobbing to my confused kids (and my Jenny in characteristic epigenetic distaste of the prince) ---at breakfast three months ago....that was the whole point of the story. 

That the wrath was the mercy. 


Life comes in the in-betweens. Living while dying

 I woke up with a vivid dream that involved a nursing home. There were old people who were giving away free violins and violin lessons and food trying to get kids to come, to see kids. I was trying to help them. Harabojii and Halmoni were there. My mother's parents. My Harabojii (Korean for grandfather) died 14 years ago, and my Halmoni has traveled the long road of widow-hood and prayer these many years. In my dream, it was so good to see them together again. But I knew Harabojii was sick and we probably didn’t have long. I hugged him, then remembered I have a cold.

But I was trying to advise the old people to try giving away guitar lessons, broader appeal. Trying to help them find a way for their scheme to see children around to work. Then Badguys were chasing me at one point. There was drama. I don’t remember what happened.

But waking up with the conviction that---why on earth did we sort people like widgets? For energy efficiency, put all the old people in one room, so we can effectively change diapers and provide “care”. Care like lining them up to change their diapers, brush their teeth, and give them all the same nutritionally calculated puddings.

Why?

People aren’t widgets. That kind of life barely sounds like life. Its all the stuff that happens in the cracks that  makes life feel like life. The inconveniences, the people talking in line at the grocery store, the children, always uncontrollable, nuts, with their myriad ideas and fights and stories and sins, running into and out of our lives like tornado.

Life comes in the unexpected, the inconvenient, the in-betweens.

We manage life, by putting all the kids in a room together, so their crazy ideas can be dissuaded en-mass, not to climb the flagpole, or organize a table leaping-off contest. We make them copy down math and memorize mantras and things. Not that there isn’t a place for education.

But seriously, what are we doing????

We stuff the kids into rooms, and then when some boys inevitably won’t sit still, we drug them to make it more efficient for the vastly out-numbered teacher to keep the kids learning. It’s like a prison.

We manage life, by putting all the old people into a room together (or rather, many tiny rooms in one big building) and give them “care” to make sure they have the proper nutrition and diaper changes in time. It’s like a prison.

Prisons are massively efficient ways for society to stuff troublemakers into one building and hopefully try to keep them from killing each-other. (If there is a Purgatory, I hope it is very different than our model.)

I love efficiency. I love batch-sewing dresses, and batch-producing meals.

But boiling life down a life to nutrients ingested, mantras memorized, widgets produced, diapers changed….what happened to the wild morning wind cold and inconvenient, blowing the barely-opened morning-glories against the pale sky brightening in the dawn?

People aren’t widgets. We need the chaos of children, the inconvenience of human contact, the single woman telling you not to leave the top of the chip bag unsealed, the middle aged reflecting on their life and their drama having to pull it together to interact with a surly teenager….. all of it, all mixed up into life.

And what about the childless? Those who never got to have children and grandchildren? They should not be shunted off into an assembly-line style of senior care.

When I lay in the hospital after being gutted and stitched, hovering between life and death, unable to sit without assistance, the tube draining on my side sending spasms every time I had to sit up. Having to hit the nurse button to bring a bedpan…when it was a terrifying thing knowing I would have to sit up in 30 minutes… the fight to hold on to my walker, and make it across the room…they all felt like huge and terrifying obstacles. It was like being suddenly old. My youth---when things like eating, sitting up, walking about---felt far away and impossible. Part of me doubted I would ever be able to do those things again.

To want to live---was so hard. And I knew deep down somehow, that I had to want to live if I was going to live. Perhaps it was melodrama, but I felt that if I gave up, I would die. I was in grief over Anthony, and the pain was the worst in my life. Worse than the 7 unmedicated labors. It felt like transition when I tried to poop. But what got me though transition was yearning for my baby in my arms. And this time, I knew my baby was dead. And that there would never be another new baby from me. It was hard.

To be old, is so hard. To know that the days of possibility and birth are behind you…and before you lies pain to just to continue to exist.

Back to my point.

I yearned to see green things, and my children’s faces. The dawn sky. I strained to see that little flap of a green palm leaf in that courtyard, the window facing a stucco wall, and the bed facing the wrong way. Prison cell room. I tried to stare at the fake wood pattern on the door, thanking God for making woodgrain. I needed to see beauty so badly.

 When I was moved into the blue room with the big window, and could see the horizon lit wit the dawn and dusk glow…it was like I could breathe again. The art on the wall of the raindrops clinging to a leaf. I stared at every nature picture I could get. And children's faces. Seeing their faces was like a burst of color in a grey world. I'd stare at their faces...they almost felt like they were shining with LIFE.

When the ileas blocked my intestine, the pain was so intense....begging God not to listen to any prayers to die I might make, that my statement was I wanted to live, and I was tying myself to the mast....hearing that child cry out for his mommy, his daddy reassuring him that wasn't his mom....me getting there, the bowel scan....then coming back...the pain subsiding [had they started the Dilotted at that point?] looking up and thinking there was so much light afterwards...not sure if I was really aware of reality...and I saw this very goodlooking shape of a man's beautiful shoulders standing there in the brightness [If I remember...half of me wasn't sure if I was seeing Jesus in heaven or some person and I shouldn't be thinking this as a married woman....and especially if it were Jesus...it was very confusing]...and then realized it was Josh with the window behind him.....then afterwards, somehow, the pain meds taking enough edge off, the relief. But still having to fight to live. Telling Josh how we were going to have picnics with the kids in Europe. Imagining going to the park with a picnic with the kids. Imagining the children, and nature, out of that hospital prison. Hospital is a prison. I thought of Harabojii, talking about our trip to Korea, and to the beach, and the picnic, how we were going to have it…all those long months in the hospital, when he couldn’t even eat….I understood better. How he felt. So hard. You need to look forward to something. To children’s faces and green.

I thought about the nursing homes for the childless. We need to make every room have a big window, to see the dawn. No prison rooms. Force people to eat together at least once a day. Sing together. Chapel. And put it in an orchard. So families can come and pick the fruit, and hangout with the old people. They need to see children. They need to be part of a community.

Make it a community. Like Rivendell. Host craft nights, dances, etc. Things for children. Old ppl need to see new life. And new life needs the old. We need to be in it, together. Inconvenient and all. It’s life. Somehow, we have to un-divorce the care of the old from the rest of society. Never have we had this much voyeuristic living, distortions of reality, Instagram replacing long hours shelling beans with octogenarians. We watch dramas and cry our eyes out. And don’t know how to talk to our grandparents. [this is me]

We have lost so much. And we have skyrocketing rates of depression. We need to shell more beans. Have that awkward long walk with someone in a walker who needs to pause every 10 ft and have that rambling conversation that may repeat itself. Life is in the cracks. In the in betweens of leaves against a sky.

Because we are humans. We weren’t meant to die in prison cells of efficiency, alone. We were meant to struggle along, inconveniently, often painfully, together.

Even if they’re grumpy. Even if it hurts. Even if its hard. We need to do it together. Because its important. The children need to know how to live, how to reflect on the story of life---one day, their own life---and the children need to learn how to die, how to make peace. How to live while dying. All of it.

Because we're all living while dying. We're all in this strange riddle, put together, to get through it, together.

The old need to be around children. Around new life. We are the human race, the human family. We were made for each other.

****************

After writing this, I want to volunteer at a nursing home or something. I am not sure how. I know these organizations exist.

Or a prison. And make a garden.

Friday, November 8, 2024

Disciplined Schedule for Colder Weather

 DAILY SCHEDULE

The basic idea is that every day should contain the same elements. They will be adjusted to acclimate to our extreme weather swings. 

The twelve essential elements

    1.  Morning Prayers [in Prayergarden] Instead, Late Afternoon Service In Prayergarden at 4:30 pm [Set aside a moment for the Holy]
    2. Morning Outside Time [if its not cold]
    3. Morning PT
    4.  Mom's reading time [reading kids books]
    5. Breakfast& Chores
    6. Bibletime [usually at breakfast]
    7. Homeschool
    8. Lunch & Chores
    9. Afternoon Freetime. Outside or Duplos or Crafts/Art or Computergames. [Mom's downtime]
    10. Dinner & Chores
    11. Family Fun Time//Evening outside time 
    12. Family Songtime and Prayertime 

VERY COLD [for us...] Schedule. UV is low. Nov (4), Dec (3), Jan (3)

  • Note: Wait till the sun warms up the air, to play outside. The UV is so low anyway.
  •  In the afternoon, the shadow is deep across the backyard, but atleast the air is warmer. In the morning, there is sunlight in the backyard, but colder air.

    • 7:00 Hot Tea& Mom’s Reading Time, Prayergarden
    •  8:00 am Hot Breakfast& Bible & CHORES
    •  9:00-12 SCHOOL
      • ü  PT
      • ü  Spelling, Grammar, Handwriting
      • ü  Math
      • ü  Hebrew & Greek Videos
    • 12 noon  Lunch and CHORES
    • 1-2   Screentime if Earned//Outside Time
    •  2-4:45  Outside FreeTime//Maybe go to the Park, Riparion//Playdates with friends
    •  4:45 Worship (inside or at Prayergarden)
    • 5:00pm CHORETIME
    • 5:30pm Dinner & CHORES
    • 6:30pm Family Games [inside?] or FIRE
    • 8:00pm Bedtime                          

Friday, October 25, 2024

Weekly Meal Plan

 Because I keep misplacing it. 

Weekly Meal Plan

Breakfasts

  • Mealprep Breakfast Sandwiches in the freezer for Josh Important note: Let it come to room temp BEFORE freezing, minimize air. Wrap in plastic wrap, then put in freezer bag.
  • Kids breakfast 
      • m-- 
        • peanut butter energy balls OR 
        • oatmeal w/ eggs OR 
        • custard OR 
        • overnight Chia pudding
      • t/w/r/f
        • Yogurt&Berries&Nuts or 
        • Omelet
        • Cheese&Veg or 
        • Hummus&Veg
      • sat---Hash Browns & eggs/Toad in holes/ French Toast/Pancakes Crepes
      • sun-- BREAKFAST CASSEROLE [Prep night before, bake morning of] baked grits & sausage & baked egg casserole OR potato-egg-sausage casserole
Lunches

M

Leftovers

Josh & Isaiah eat burgers

Left Overs

Leafy Chicken Ceaser Salad

T

Beef

Smashburgers or

Tacos 

Shepherds Pie

Steak Fajitas n Bell Peppers

Chili [white bean or red]

BEEF SOUP: Hannah’s Pho, Beef Soup, Meukguk

Leafy Spinach Salad.

Fresh Salsa

Spinach Salad

W

Chicken

Oven Turkish Bone-In Chicken

Basil-Lime Chicken Breasts

 Fried Chicken Strips

Sauce Chicken [herbed creamy sauce, salsa creamy sauce]

Chicken Soup

Frozen Broccoli, Green Beans or Peas

R

Italian

Fauxsagnia w/ extra Ground Beef

Meatball Sandwiches

Philly Cheese-steaks wit ONIONS

Garlic Green Beans

Tomato-Basil-Cheese

Cabbage Salad [Asian, Greek, Chicken Ceaser]

F

Cheese

Lentils

Mac n Cheese w/ extra Parm.

Indian Lentils

Tomato Soup + Grilled Cheese Sandwiches

Lentil Soup

Peas, carrots

Cabbage Salad

S

Cold Cuts

Hannah’s Subway [Tuna or Chicken or Beef]

 

Leafy Spinach Salad Fixin’s

Lord’s Day

Beef

Beef Pot Roast.

Braised beef.

Hobbit Stew.

Leafy Spinach Salad

Frozen Veg


Tuesday, October 1, 2024

Best List of Children's books a little older, first steps into reading and Graphic Novels [first reading etc]

Arnold Loebl's stuff 
  •  Frog and Toad stories, (all of them)
  • Owl at home                                                      by Arnold Loebl

Ling and Ting  by Grace Lin

  •             Not Exactly the Same
  •             Together in All Weather
  •             Share a Birthday
  •             Twice as Silly                                  

*************Graphic Novels and first very simple chapter books********************

American Girl Series

  •             Felicity
  •             Samantha
  •             Addy
  •             Molly
  •             Kirsten
  •             Kit
  •             Kaya


Picture Bible  [illustrated by 000000

Sophia Institute Press  Graphic Novel Saints stories  000000
  • Vol 1
  • Vol 2
  • Vol 3
  • Vol 4
  • Vol 5

Zita the Spacegirl series by   Ben Hatke  [graphic novels]

  • Zita the Spacegirl, 
  • Legends of Zita the Spacegirl, 
  • Return of Zita the Spacegirl]                         

Mighty Jack Series by Ben Hatke [graphic novels]

  • Mighty Jack, 
  • Mighty Jack and the Goblin King, 
  • Mighty Jack and Zita the Spacegirl*


Ninjago graphic novels    by Greg Farshtey

  • Challenge of Samukai
  • Mask of the Sensei
  • Rise of the Serpentine
  • Tomb of the Fangpyre
  • Kingdom of Snakes
  • Warriors of Stone
  • Stone Cold*
  • Destiny of Doom 
  • Night of the Nindroids
  • The Phantom Ninja
  • Comet Crisis

TRAILBLAZER BOOKS------------- by Dave and Neta Jackson
Flight of the Fugitives
Bandit of Ashely Downs
Captured by the River Rats
Listen for the Whippoorwill

Never Say Die by Cyril Davey
Sundar Singh  by Cyril Davey    

Friday, September 13, 2024

Best list of children's picture books, The ones I would re-buy if there was a fire

Best children's picture books.
The ones I would rebuy if there was a fire. The ones I would keep to read to my grandchildren

CONTINUES TO BE UPDATED

Solo         by Paul Geraghty

The Three Trees     by Angela Elwell Hunt

The Bear that Heard Crying    by Natalie Kinsey-Warnock

Journey
Quest
Return    by Aaron Becker

The Christmas Story
The Easter Story        by Brian Wildsmith

Remy and Lulu       by K

Bernice Gets Carried Away
Extraordinary Jane                 by Hannah E Harrison

I am a Bunny
What do people do all day
Funniest Stories Ever
Cars and Trucks and Things that Go
The Bunny Book/When Bunny Grows Up
Richard Scarry's Nursery Rhymes
Richard Scarry's Best Storybook Ever [compilation]
Best Mistake Ever and other stories                                By Richard Scarry
Anything ACTUALLY by Richard Scarry and not his ghostwriters/ghostartists
I especially love his early works, in the realistic style [I am a Bunny]

Jesus-pictures---Illust. by Chris Molan [Chosen more for their pictures than their text]
Jesus and John the Baptist 
Jesus Begins His Work
Miracles by the Sea
The First Easter
DK  The Life of Jesus


Tattered Sails [rhyming verse] by

Saint Valentine by Robert Sabuda

It's not easy being a Bunny      by   Marilyn Sadler
Very Bad Bunny*                      by   Marilyn Sadler

Street Through Time   [DK]

The Thief who stole Heaven
The Spider who stole Christmas
The Magnificent Mischief of Tad Lincoln                    by  Raymond Arroyo

Our Lady of Guadalupe                           by Carmen T. Bernier-Grand and Tonya Engel



Bread and Jam for Frances
Best Friends for Frances
Bedtime for Frances
A New Sister for Frances 
A Bargain for Frances                                 by ??????


OLDER KIDS---HISTORY, PART PICTURE

Peter Connolly's 
The Roman Army, 
The Greek Armies, 
Hannibal and the enemies of Rome, 
History of the Jewish People in the Time of Jesus [Holy Land]
Greece and Rome at War
The Ancient City

Would you survive series

The Usborne Book of World History 


Thursday, August 8, 2024

Little Rangers need to go a'ranging...

 Little Rangers need to get their kits out at least once a month. They need to explore outside, learn valuable skills like tracking, stamina, waking at dawn, building fires, watching the stars....they need SKILLS and they are only going to get said skills by going out and roughing it in the wilderness.

Alas, one skill for a ranger mom trapped in the valley of the Sun, is to reserve campsites far in advance. Five months in advance....

If we were really cool, we'd figure out how to make camp in the site-less wilderness...preferably under bracken where the Crebain of Dunland cannot sight us....but we aren't at that awesome yet. So we'll stick with reserved sites, until our skills are much much better.


Nov--AZ Desert, Lost Dutchman [Hidden Valley, Pioneer Museum? Fat Man's pass, Sears-Kay Ruin (Hohokam)]

Dec--AZ Desert, Lost Dutchman

Jan--Huddle at home and work on our kits.

Feb --AZ Desert, Lost Dutchman

March--AZ Desert, Lost Dutchman

[I need to reserve the Spring and Summer reservations by Feb/March]

April -- AZ Rim-country, Prescott, Payson [Mingus Mountain, Mogollon Campground on Rim, Yavapai, Christopher creek]

May -- AZ Rim-country, Prescott, Payson

June -- AZ Rim-country, Prescott, Payson


July--Mountains or Creeks, Oak Creek Canyon/Sedona [bc of Oak creek. Also Manzanita is COOLER they say, Pine Flats, Bootlegger, Cave Springs], or Christopher Creek in Payson [bc of Christopher creek], Mogollon is 2mi from a lake....OR THE ROCKIES

Aug--Mountains or Creeks, Oak Creek Canyon/Sedona...OR THE ROCKIES

Sept--Mountains or Creeks, Oak Creek Canyon/Sedona...


Oct -- AZ Rim-country, Prescott, Payson


And how to homestead...when we are in a little quarter-acre lot in a desert, and may move in the near-ish future?

Homestead, but not as the homestead being the goal---as we may need to sell, and later owners destroy it. Plant fruit trees, for the future if owners keep it. And always garden with the kids. Involve my little rangers as much as possible...because its about the memories being forged WITH them, and the skills being forged IN them, and not about the physical garden or home so much. We are traveling, but we can make these way-stations along the way as beautiful as we can. As green as we can. As productive as we can. 

But it should always be about the little Rangers, and not the way-station.


Thursday, August 1, 2024

Savings

I--85+ 25     [110 saber--?Cool One]

J-- 5 +25   [110 saber] Templar

K-- 27 [110 saber--twin sister]

M-- 23.25      [110 saber---moondust]

S---0.15   [gradient saber? $73 ]

A---          [gradient saber? $73]


Thursday, July 11, 2024

Memory of our lives

 

July 11 2024

36 years old. Yesterday was my 14th wedding anniversary. I have 8 children on earth, 2 children in heaven, and a uterus rotted for a year somewhere in some hospital’s biohazard dump. I know, barring a miracle, that I am done receiving new little souls in my body, to grow and live in the world. It hurts.

I realize how strange memory is. More and more, it feels like my own life is forgotten by me---the only things that remain were pinned down by words. Even things that I never wrote down, but if I described them to myself or others, then I can remember them. But otherwise, they fade away.

I used to think there was some part of my mind that recorded my own life. That all I had to do was access it, like a hidden file on a computer. But it seems that it’s not there. And scariest of all, it seems that people can rewrite their memories, or at least, completely reshape the story of it, without changing the bare facts. Like music to raw footage of a movie. The music changes everything. Especially disgruntled young people in their 20s and 30s, trying to make sense of their lives. Comparing the notes of their childhood with other siblings, other witnesses. Or when reading war-memoirs. The novelist author knew to pick out the really poignant parts, but even he had to pick. The heroism, the horror, little things that stuck out in it. Some guys go on and on about the details of all the fallen buddies---remembering their glasses, their names, their hometowns, as if somehow saving something precious. Some guys rambling on about minute details no one cares about---the rifle type, the little personal altercation with a higher up. And even in the war---the things the men chose to cling to. That one guy dying holding onto the little polaroid of his baby in the dark…even the way we cling to the story of our own life in little pieces of plastic. But it’s the act of recollection---the war memoirs themselves---that is so weird. Like in the Vietnam book, he chooses the framing to be about the lines Chan wrote in his Bible, even at the breakdown at the end. Two siblings so close in age can have drastically different memories or perceptions of the same few years. It seems the story of someone’s life can be utterly changed by the way they remember it---like the music the producers pick to pair with the raw footage everywhere. And picking which cuts to save, to string together in the final production. Our minds—editing the footage of our lives---can make such very different things.

I hope God holds all the raw footage. And the real music to be paired with the story. Only He knows the story He was really making.

Right now, my story doesn’t make sense to me. I don’t get why God took my babies. Why my uterus had to spectacularly fail, when I was pregnant with a little boy who was an answer to thousand prayers of Isaiah, and whom I felt was going to do something important for God’s Kingdom.

Right now, in suburbia, after the trial of Grad-School, Josh stuck with a Job that he doesn’t feel any higher purpose in, other than trying to pay off an overpriced house squeezed into a quarter-lot in a desert….passing the point of the dream of Josh with the torch on the hill in the rain on the bare mountain…..I don’t know what our purpose is.

I feel….lost.

Like I’m halfway through a book and realize it’s not going anywhere. I see wrinkles popping up in  my face. I see a huge scar cut across my baby-stretched belly, holding the skin in strangely. I have passed the point of potential….with careful treatment, optimistically, I may look young for another decade. But I have passed 20 years of doing this—being 16 and the age I could be in an adventure story---now I’m 36 and too old for an adventure story. At least, the kind where its about potential and choices that shape a life. My life is shaped. And in one sense….it feels over.

I know that’s a ridiculous thing to say. Even me writing this, is shaping how I feel. Words are recursive like that. Even our attempts to understand our life re-shape our life. Or perhaps give it shape that can fit into our little finite brains.

Only God knows what true story is going on here.

Maybe when God shows us the final cut of our lives, the final story, the most important parts will be small scene that we didn’t even remember, or that we chose to leave on the cutting room floor.

I have 8 children counting on me. 8 little potentials whose lives are flung in front of them like empty vistas with stormy skies above them. 7 little maidens who will be that beautiful main character ninja girl in an adventure story. 1 young man ripe for his coming of age adventure. I need to help him. I have hurt his confidence so much.

God, help me help Isaiah be a man. Help me. Help me be the mother I never have been.  Heal him where I have let him down.

And please bring him the right woman at the right time, bring him Eve. Helpmeet. Help him become who you want him to become.

I think what has stopped me from writing in diaries for 8 years was how recursive they get. How they seem to reshape (or concretize) my own life and my own thinking. It seemed oddly untrue---squeezing the reality of my life into a mold or a shape, that wasn’t all true---as if I am writing a computer program to program my own brain…it felt artificial, forced, a lie somehow.

But lately, I think about my memories of my own life, and realize I’m always doing that. Always shaping reality with words. I just hadn’t written them down.

And I’m getting older. I’m forgetting my own life. The kids will tell me recent (or 7 yr old) memories of things that Mommy said and did that sound very plausible, but I have zero recall of. Some of them are really good memories too. I wish I remembered them. I’m glad that they do. But I think my aging brain needs some help pinning down my own life. It feels like its passing in a blur….and I have nothing to fill the time that I know lapsed.

I want to write now. Write down the memories, even if it turns out is half-fake and sifting, and artificial. God will save the truest story. I will write my fragments, and He can correct all the errors in the final analysis.

I need to write about losing my babies. I need to write about 2023

Wednesday, May 10, 2023

Best Times to Play Outside

The best time to play outside: 
 3 hours after dawn, 3 hours before sunset. (sunrise and sunset times here

The first 3 hours after dawn is when the light is full of fresh hope and new mercy. The wind tastes like hope. Birds are singing. Even the UV rays are attenuated by their long journey through our air. Even better is to start half an hour before dawn, when the light of our star mixes with the light of the far stars, as our atmosphere fades out of the view of the galaxy.

The 3 hours before sunset, the air is heavy with the heat of our star, now pressing around us with the fullness, like an ocean around a fish. Full, like a warm sea. The day is full. Children run about with the crazed emotions of those who don't know they are tired. Heated argument, epic adventures, or laughing hysterically at jokes too mystical to be understood by the narrow minds of adults. They are meant  run off this energy under the unconfined, ceiling of the heavens, as their forbears have for millenia. Gradually the birds wake up again, excited as our sky fades into the galaxy.
One by one the far stars show their faces through the blue veil. It fades, vanishing once more, and we see again through the viewport of our planet, as it hurtles through the stars.


Jan 15     7:32am,   5:43pm
Feb 15     7:12am,   6:12 pm
Mar 15    6:38am,   6:36 pm
Apr  15    5:58am,   6:59 pm
May 15   5:28am,   7:21pm 
June 15   5:18am,   7:39pm 
July 15    5:29am,    7:38pm 
Aug 15    5:50am,   7:14pm 
Sept 15    6:11am,   6:34pm 
Oct 15     6:32am,     5:54pm 
Nov 15    7:00am,   5:25pm
Dec 15     7:24am,   5:21 pm



Chief Obstacles:
  1. Obstacle #1  Light shining sideways into your eyes. Strategically place trees, shadecloths, and trellises east of where you intend to hang out early in the morning, or west of where you hang out in the afternoon. Another option is to place play-structures, rose gardens, garden benches, picnic tables, outdoor work tables, such that they are shaded by the house at these times.
  2. Obstacle #2 Mosquitos love twilight. 
    1. Clothes. Nothing stops a mosquito like fabric. In the winter months we're bundled up like Rangers, and the mosquitos aren't out anyway. In the warmer months, wear long loose linen pants. You can even sew "extensions" of fabric (like really long cuffs) to the ends of pants (they get worn out and need to be replaced anyway). The length and swinging movement keeps mosquitos from feasting on yoru ankles, even if you are barefoot or in sandals. Li Ziqi wears these kinds of pants in many of her summer videos
    2. Habitat-destruction During the rainy season, every evening, have the kids help me do a quick scout out the backyard, to make sure there isn't any secret standing water around.
    3. Repel with plants Try growing the vaunted anti-mosquito plants (lemon balm, basil, etc) about the garden, around play areas and sitting areas in by garden benches. Secondly, try making some of that "hippie bug spray" as Josh calls it, the essential oils said to repel mosquitos. I'm going to be oiling my skin anyway, why not put in some nice smelling stuff mosquitos don't like.
    4. Trap: Try leaving standing water with the mosquito dunks in them, like enlightenment garden channel does. Need to be careful its not drownable to toddlers though.
    5. Chemical Spray: Last resort, if things ever get REALLY bad, use chemical repellant. That is where long loose pants come in, since spraying your clothes seems preferable to spraying the skin. But on kids in shorts, need to do what must be done. Aim for the ankles, calves, triceps, and back of the neck/back. And remember not to breathe it in.
  3. Obstacle #3 Kids need to be schooled. Because we are homeschooled, this isn't as much of an issue. Schedule school to start at least 3 hours after sunrise, and end at least 3 hours before sunset. e.g. Start school after 8:30 in the summer months, and after 10:30 in the winter months.

Saturday, April 29, 2023

UV Indexes and White People

These actually matter. White people aren't used to high UV indexes. They come from the Northern Lands, clinging to the pole of our planet, where the sun is dimmed by the tilt of the earth. Their DNA is exposed in semi-translucent skin, to the dimmer pole-sun. Their skin does not contain enough of the armor of melanin, that shields DNA against our Star's radiation in the more equatorial latitudes.

e.g. in London in late April the UV index maxes out at a 3.  In Phoenix on the same day, its a 9. Being closer to the equator makes a huge difference. Then throw in the never-ending blue sky, and even compared to Dallas TX, we have no "off" days where cloud cover keeps the UV to a 3. Its unrelenting sun all the time. In June and July, Phoenix tops out at 11/12. 


There is a world of difference between living closer to the Arctic Circle, or to the Tropic of Cancer. You wouldn't think that the difference between latitude 32 (Phoenix) and latitude 52 (London) would more than quadruple the UV exposure. But it does. Like poking an orange with a pin, the angle you poke the orange peel greatly changes how much of the pin you can insert into the peel before you hit the inner fruit. Likewise, the more "orange peel" atmosphere that the sun's rays have to traverse to reach us, can greatly reduce the amount of UV that reaches us.


 The swarthy Mediterraneans of Europe correlate to the latitude of America's 'far-northern' Massachusetts & New England. Arizona and Texas, correlate to Northern Africa and the Middle East, Iran, Pakistan, etc. where people either have more melamine-rich skin or drape themselves in fabric like the Tuscan Raiders. Or both.

Daily UV index matters, note the peak hours. Playing outside for 2 hours before 10am exposes you to the same amount of UV as 10 minutes at noon.

Play outside before 10am, and after 4pm.

UV index for April in Phoenix. As the peak index rises with the summer, the entire graph shifts up in exposure, but it always keeps this general shape.
 

Roughly, equinoxes are March 20th and Sept 20th. Solstices are June 20th and Dec 20th. So from a UV exposure perspective, the danger zone is April through September. 

UV index changing with the months. 

Note how Phoenix maxes out almost at a 12. I think the highest London gets is a 6. But given how math works, shift the peak up 2x, exposes you to more than 2x the total UV. E.g. a 12" pizza is more than twice the size of a 6" pizza.

Since the kids are inside from 8 to 4 June through September (too hot to be in the sunlight), the "danger zone" is really March & April, October. This is when it feels nice and cool, but the UV index is still very high (compared to the Northern latitudes to which their ancestors grew up.) So they aren't programmed to avoid sunlight at these nice temperatures, even though the UV index is frying their DNA through their translucent northern skin. This is when insisting on hats is very important.

"Getting a tan" isn't a sign that all is well for a white kid. (My Jenny can tan to Pakistan or indigenous Mexican levels). That melamine deposit is like the reconquista. The UV has already come in and won a major victory. The damaged body then fought back, and erected a make-shift wall of melanin to protect the DNA for the rest of the summer. But there has already been damage done. Battles lost, DNA messed with, collagen destroyed. And the white kids that don't tan, merely means they lose that battle over and over, and can never even muster that makeshift wall.

But kids hate hats.

So be smart. Strategize shade. You'll never get it all, aim for the 80% rule. 

Study them in their natural habitat. Ascertain their habits, where they hang out. And then alter that habitat. Strategize ways to shade where they play 80% of the time. Study their playing patterns. (E.g. make sure the tree's shadow hits the playset after school hours. Put structure near the kiddie pool that shade it in afternoon, when the kids are there. Pay attention to how they play. (e.g. In the early spring, secure some shade cloth to the top of the swing set with cable and T-posts for shade at noon, since the cool weather means they play outside all day, even during peak UV hours, in the summer, note where do they hangout in those cool-but-dangerous hours)

Rig shade (or better yet, grow shade trees) over the key areas they spend 80% of their time. (e.g. the mulberry tree shades the playset in the morning, so I need to rig up a shade cloth whose shadow will hit the playset in the afternoon).  Be aware of how sun angles and seasonal shift move where the shade from the shade cloth (or tree) ends up.

 I plant trees, and then rig up shade, because trees take time to grow. (Pakistan Mulberry Trees will grow SUPER FAST in Phoenix, if you water them a lot)

Shade ideas: 

  1. The fastest option, T-posts (8 footers), cable, and shade cloth.
  2. Pretty options: Cattle Panel arches anchored with T-posts, with fast-growing vines, and a bit of shade cloth on top while waiting for the vine to grow. (You can wire 2 arches together for a super big arch, depending on your local windspeeds)
  3. Classy Options: 4x4 lumber posts whose end grain is painted with outdoor paint (or pressure treated), affixed with decking screws, and possibly 2x4 braces. Set in the ground with gravel (better than concrete, drains better). Screw in screw-eyes and hang shade cloth.
  4. Really Classy and Pretty Option: Grow a grape vine up wood/cattle panel trellis
  5. Super super $$$ option: Build a Pergola or Gazebo

Simple Lifelong Strategies for White Children:

  1. Make a habit to put a hat on before going outside. Especially in nice-feeling weather, where they won't instinctively seek shade.
  2. Make a habit of going outside in the early morning and late afternoon hours. Morning sunlight is so beautiful. Be outside when the birds are most excited. (If mosquitos are a problem, long loose pants that cover the ankles work really well. I will even sew extensions to my pants that don't cover the ankles. Mosquitos mostly go for my ankles and calves for some reason. I think I move my arms enough they don't aim for them as much)
  3. Study them in their natural habitat, and adjust their habitat with shade (via tree or cloth) wherever the kids play 80% of the time in higher UV times of day.
A very white baby. She doesn't even have hair to shield that very white head from the UV rays.

 

The Idea of "Unplanned Pregnancy" (And Surprise Birthday Parties, John the Baptist, and Spring)

You know...this year, I really really thought about it, and decided it would be good for my life to have winter end this year.... It may even help the farmers. And it'll lift everyone's spirits to see some flowers, and have a blue sky, so...you know what, let's plan on having Spring this year! Lets see...2023....about March, maybe?

 Let's start in March, we don't want to wait too late in the year because we want to be sure to make it to our family camping trip in June. And if we don't have spring this year it, may be hard to make it through the roads without a snowplow attachment....

As a child, I thought the term "planned pregnancy" was ridiculous. Like "planned spring." Grownups were at it again, overestimating the importance of their Ideas of How Everything Ought to Be. 

Just like their lofty declarations "no pushing or shoving on the playground." We'll just wait till they were busy talking and us kids who knew what life was really like, could get into a rousing game of tag.

When I heard the term "surprise baby", somewhere around 9 or so, I thought it was a compliment. That a kid had the cleverness and chutzpah to surprise their parents with their arrival. Like a surprise birthday party, with all the glee and joy and shocked faces that that entails. I knew a few families, who "thought they were done", and who had a surprise baby. In my childhood mental framework, those kids were like John the Baptist, showing up with angels and prophecies of greatness.

I felt like surprise babies got extra points.

So I used it like a compliment. 

 I still remember, doing laundry with my mom, as she folded clothes and tried to explain to me not to use that term, because people may feel hurt. I was confused. She explained people may feel sad that their parents didn't plan to have them.

But God makes the babies, I thought. So why give a heck whether dim ol' mom and dad were up to speed. They'll figure out what's happening soon enough, and have a few months to get a stroller and the bottles and the baby toys.

God makes the babies. He planned it. So why are these grownups taking so much credit?

I know a bit more about biology now than I did at 9. But that simple fact of my child brain, is true:

God wills every human soul, fashions and places each one into each human body He knits together. 

Sunday after Sunday, reciting "...conceived by the Holy Spirit, born of the virgin Mary...."

Jesus was conceived by the Holy Spirit. Born of Mary.

And so is every baby. We are conceived of the Holy Spirit, and born of (perhaps dim) parents. 

Every human is God's idea. Each of us is made in the heart of God. We are, individually, uniquely, conceived of in His mind, and hand-crafted by His hand.

We are each of us, specifically, willed by God. 

Ruhi looks at family pictures taken more than 2 years ago, and says "Where am I?!" 

I open my mouth to tell her she wasn't born yet, and I hear Ana's little voice piping in "Ruhi, you were in duh mind of God"

Hi? I believe God express mailed me to this residence.

Sunday, January 22, 2023

...except in cases of rape, incest...

As a child, I firmly believed that every human being is willed and created by God.

But there were challenges to this belief throughout my teenage years, as I learned more about the world, and just how horrible human beings could be to each other. Namely I learned about the existence of rape, and the worst of all, incest.

How can a good God allow such horrors to be done to people? 

How can a good God permit people to commit such horrors, when they once were little wispy haired toddlers that just wanted the joy of splashing in puddles and eating applesauce?

That is something I still do not have the answer to. Other than I know that God suffers with every human's suffering.

Then the arguments for abortion came, and I had to make sense of it. How could a woman who was raped carry the rapist's child? How can a girl carry a child conceived in incest?

The question is like a punch to the gut. Its horrible. But its edges are blurry. From a burning hot core to each layer emanating from it, retroactively absolving all abortions.

But lets go to the core, because at the heart of the core is where the real question is.

Peeling pack the layers to the white hot core, let us observe the most outward layer of "non-ideal" conceptions. Adultery. 

Adultery is a betrayal, to the beloved, to the children, to the God you sword the oath to.

But there is a difference between an act, and the fruit that God makes from it. As Joseph being sold into slavery, but then saving all of Egypt and his own family too. What men meant for evil, God making good out of. That doesn't mean it was right to lie to their father, and sell their brother. Doesn't mean it was right for Potiphar's wife to lie and get an innocent man locked up for sexual assault for years and years. Didn't mean the ropes, the beating, the slaveblock, the lack of trial and unending years of incarceration were illusory or really not a big deal. They were terrible. But God brought good out of it.

Adultery is a betrayal that God sees as such a big deal that He even prescribed death penalty for it. Then He spared that woman telling her "Go and sin no more", and took the death penalty on himself, to pay her debt. Adultery, like all our sins, cost him blood and slow suffocation on the cross. God does not minimize adultery, or the suffering that it causes all those betrayed. And yet. He sometimes conceives a child even in the midst of that sin, an innocent and holy child, given to the undeserving, as undeserving as we were when He gave us baby Jesus. 

Because God brings good out of even our worst sins. He saved Egypt and Israel. This did not mean that Joseph's brothers did the right thing to beat and strip their brother and sell him to a slave cartel.

And that holy child, conceived in adultery, is from God, is pure innocent good, like the Christ Child coming to a screwed up and undeserving world.

Or to that holy child, conceived in a petri dish by scientists making money or trying to create a clone army (as I think will probably happen). That child is not the property of the scientist who sinned so greatly in exploiting human life. The situation of that's child conception was sin, but God breathed the life and soul into that little zygote, struggling in the petri-dish, with all the other zygotes, as the scientist randomly picks one to sell, leaving the others to be experimented on. God who called Jacob's name, called the names of each of those little ones in the dish, the names only He knows. And He has breathed souls into them, and they are His.

Now, concerning rape. This is worse, because it is not just betrayal, but a violation, a blasphemy on what sex was created to be. Instead of vulnerable love, there is violent devouring. By the time the question of aborting the pregnancy comes up, the woman has gotten away from the violator. She is deeply traumatized, and needs help, and then finds there is a human growing inside of her. How do we comfort her, how do we make this horrific situation right? We treat the child like it is the rape, or at least, the rapists spawn. If we can just delete the "rapists child", it will be on some level, as if we are erasing part of the rape. But are we? No one would say, that if a man has 2 yr old child, and then goes out and rapes a woman, the woman's family may find and kill his 2 yr old child in revenge. But as long as we cannot see the child, as long as it's face is hidden from our eyes, we can feel it is purely the "spawn" of another human, that must be erased.

And then the blasphemy of love gets kicked up a notch, in cases of incest, which is an abomination before God.  This, because it is a blasphemy of all that makes life worth living, is too much to think about. Even thinking about it feels like breathing in smoke, we want to break a window and get out. We want to help get the girl out of the situation as soon as possible, forget it as soon as possible, and act as if it had never been. And abortion seems the fast way, to make it as if it had never been. 

But that's desperate lie, as we desperately claw about for a solution.

You can't undo the horror of rape or incest.

You can't undo it by killing a small human. That sacrifice is not enough to undo that great an evil. Only the blood of a God can wash that away.

Violated women have lived through the "solution" of abortion, and described it as the second rape. Abortion cannot undo the horror that has happened.

We hate that. 

We rage that there is no way to make it as if it never had been. 

The little one is not the abomination. The abomination has happened. The little one is the like the Holy Child, sent to a screwed up horrific world. We may ask God what the hell is he thinking, sending a child to a deeply traumatized girl, to gestate for 9 months!?

I don't know. I have asked Him. He has his reasons. 

All I know is sometimes healing comes in strange ways.

I remember watching a video about a girl in Africa, 13 years old, kidnapped, abused and impregnated by the LRA. She was rescued, gave birth to a little girl. She named her Grace. I wish I remembered the name of that documentary. 

But I remember the face of that child-Saint smiling, holding her little Grace. Her eyes looking at us, over her little Grace's shoulder, through the screen into us. She spoke of forgiveness. 

She must have even forgiven God.

Friday, December 9, 2022

Things i really want to do

 

Draw spartans n brutes with Isaiah on a lightboard.

Embroider the girls plain jumper dresses, with the girls.

Make self watering planters from the old Rubbermaid containers and plant lettuce and carrots with the kids.

Go on a date with Josh, dawn walk through the bird preserve, holding hands.

Caroling around the Christmas tree. Atleast 12 carols, with harmony. And holding candles.

St. Lucy's day celebration with the kids and mariam wearing a crown of candles, and hot cross buns.




Make a plain dark dirndl, and embroider it. 

Go to adoration, work things out with God. Have a sacramental communion. Possibly a prayer vigil.


Thursday, November 3, 2022

October in Phoenix

The very end of September is when the insane rush of summer hints it is weakening, maybe, just after Bilbo's birthday. You still are wearing thin cotton short sleeves and shorts, outside, after sunset, to go outside.

October....comes in on triple digits and refilling the ice cube tray, and on the last day, leaving with grey skies, rooting around in the kid's room for their long sleeves and boots, as desert-born babies cry about needing mittens in the frigid 60's. 

 One month ago, October first, the kids clustered into the tiny pockets of shade created by my pathetic shade tarps, torn by the wind. Like bees around the water-spigot in the Phoenix street. Groups of living beings huddled together in the small patches of relief, provided by a little bit of frayed fabric flapping between them and the relentless face of nuclear reactor that lights our world. 

Now, November first... the shadows lengthen far beyond the height of the structures that created them. The shadow of the house falls across the entire middle of the backyard, a solid dark coolness, barely skirting the trunks of the citrus trees on the edge. Peter fig struggles to get enough sunlight, his little green figs stuck in stasis, as I scramble to find a new place to plant him. The shed turns the back corner into a deep shadow, damp and cool. 

Suddenly, the sun is no longer an enemy, trying to burn you into retreat. It's glimmer peeking over the eastern horizon no longer threatening, but cheering. Rays that touch your skin feel friendly, warming. Long-forgotten socks need to be hunted down and matched, suddenly no longer the unwanted refugees offloaded from laundry basket to laundry basket and ending up stashed behind hampers in the laundry room. 

All those ranger boots and cloaks, worn only by proud and overheated 8 yr olds in front of the mirror for 10 minutes, before they were shed in sweating desperation.... are now suddenly practical. A fire seems like a real thing, not an expensive way to toast a few marshamellows as we cosplay "camping" for the kids, before retreating into an air-conditioned building. 

So November is Ranger month. When things like long sleeves, cloaks, fire, and boots are suddenly no longer ornaments and props from a different world... but real.

We are the prisoners of the sun, released. Our ship has docked from the deserts of mars, into the realm of Arnor.

We are rangers now, under a grey sky.

Monday, June 13, 2022

Goals for June and July 2022

 For June, July, August 2022


Big Goals

Category 1. Learn how to draw my strength from God. Learn how to drink in His beauty,, His presence through worship,, through looking at Him. To see nothing without Him in the picture.

Its the only way I'm making it through this life.

Category 2. Spend more time with the kiddos. Because they won't be kiddos much longer. Savor the time. Enjoy *being with them.*

From babies to toddlers to teens in the blink of an eye.

Time with them, sacred, unrepeatable.

It's a precious gift, running like water in a river, unrepeatable, fleeting as the sunlight shimmering on that water.

Category 3. Family Adventures. Camping, hiking, water-fight.

Category 4. Share my now-ancient hobbies with the kids. (Gardening, painting, drawing, sewing, Leather-work, etc)

Category 5. Make significant progress in homeschool. Because while overrated (see category 2.) education is somewhat important.

Category 6. Chores & cleaning. Because its hard to enjoy life when there are no clean spoons or clean underwear.

Category 7. Home and garden improvement.

Category 1. 

  1. Spend 10 minutes with God, first thing in the morning. Set a timer if you have to.
  2. Really pray at family prayer time in the evenings.
  3.  Pray at breakfast. Read them Bible at breakfast.
  4. Put on worship music at 5pm, every day.

Category 2.

  1. For the littles, have reading time in the brown chair
  2. Isaiah read to me 3 Bulla books, and discuss it.
  3. Teach the girls how to braid their hair 2 braids, braided top bun.
  4. Rock and sing to the girls after prayer-time, Thursday night.. One song for each girl.

Category 3. 

  1. Make family dinner a big deal. Ready ON the table at 6pm (start getting ready at 5pm, worship music!) We will SING HYMNS sitting there until Josh shows up.
  2. 7pm to 8pm, family outside time. 
  3. MINGUS MOUNTAIN!! Plan 3 trips. Streamline camping supplies and packing.
  4. Make singing hymns at family prayer-time a big deal. 3 hymns a night. Have them sing. 
    1. How great Thou Art
    2. O the deep deep love of Jesus
    3. Be Thou my Vision

Category 4. 

  1. Work on a camping kit for each kid. To carry: a waterbottlesleeve, snack pouch, flashlight pouch, handkercief [knife], sword loop.
  2. Drawing lessons: Teach Isaiah how to use the light-board. Draw elites, grunts, brutes, or Spartans
  3. Home Improvement...with the kids???
    1. w/Kids Shade structure for playset. 
    2. w/Kids Sand and paint the picnic table
    3. w/Kids Finish front planter, transplant roses there
    4. w/Kids Clean the back yard (mulch moved, dirt pile into berm-walls, couch trashed)

 Category 5. 

  1. Have at least 1.5 hrs of MORNING homeschool time for the 3 big kids. 3 Rs. 
  2. Family reading time: finish Taharka, start Hittite Warrior
  3. Isaiah read me "Sword in the Tree" and "Lion to Guard us", and discuss it.
  4. Have daily time with M and S and A, working through the phonics book how to read.
  5. For preschool: have M teach numbers/math, K teach letters/reading, and J teach Hebrew, and Isaiah teach history

Category 6. 

  1. Praise them!!! That they will know YOU CAN MAKE THE WORLD BEAUTIFUL
  2. Frequent After meals, and before dinner. 4x a day. 
  3. CHEERFULLY with them.Wheat in a cows stomach. Try no guilt and no yelling. Go from kidbto kid, teaching them techniques. Gentle voice, giving my tips, always positive. 
  4. PUAYA. Put away after your activity. Build habits: Tidy becomes their new baseline. Where they hang their coat up without thinking about it....

 Category 7. 

  1. Finish setting up toy-room
  2. Finish setting up Isaiah's room
  3. Set up family computer in LR for homeschool
  4. Shed 2 organized
  5. Organize girls room. 
  6. Set up Hyrule Castle
  7. w/Kids Shade structure for playset. 
  8. w/Kids Sand and paint the picnic table
  9. w/Kids Finish front planter, transplant roses there
  10. w/Kids Clean the back yard (mulch moved, dirt pile into berm-walls, couch trashed)
  11. Washing machine Freezer?
  12. Insulate girls room, top off white and yellow rooms.
  13. Toilet flusher in master bedroom

********************

Ideas for aug sept

Category 2: Hold a meeting with the 3 big ones where you field their questions before homeschool time----- 

Category 4: Start the Crafting Rotation, Sew 2 calico critter clothes for/with each girl over 2. 

Category 7: 

  1. get ibc containers and drums . 
  2. Prepare for veggie garden, start sprouting from seed, etc. Plant in ground end of September. Tomatoes, okra, spinach, kale, chard, micrometers, beets radishes carrots, cucumbers, squash etc.

Thursday, March 31, 2022

Goals for April and May 2022



Big Goals

Category 1. Learn how to draw my strength from God. Learn how to drink in His beauty,, His presence through worship,, through looking at Him. To see nothing without Him in the picture.

Its the only way I'm making it through this life.

Category 2. Spend more time with the kiddos. Because they won't be kiddos much longer. Savor the time. Enjoy *being with them.*

From babies to toddlers to teens in the blink of an eye.

Time with them, sacred, unrepeatable.

It's a precious gift, running like water in a river, unrepeatable, fleeting as the sunlight shimmering on that water.

Category 3. Family Adventures. Camping, hiking, waterfight.

Category 4. Share my now-ancient hobbies with the kids. (Gardening, painting, drawing, sewing, Leatherwork, etc)

Category 5. Make significant progress in homeschool. Because while overrated (see category 2.) education is somewhat important.

Category 6. Chores & cleaning. Because its hard to enjoy life when there are no clean spoons or clean underwear.

Category 7. Home and garden improvement.


***********************

I will set a tangible goal(s) and a habit for each category, every 2 months.

For April & May 2022

Category 1. 

  1. Really pray at family prayer time in the evenings.
  2.  Pray at breakfast. Read them Bible at breakfast.
  3. Put on worship music at 5pm, every day.

Category 2.

  1. Rock and sing to the girls after prayertime, every night. One song for each girl.
  2. For the littles, have reading time in the brown chair
  3. Isaiah read me "Sword in the Tree" and "Lion to Guard us", and discuss it.
  4. Teach Jenny and Keziah 2 new hairstyles

Category 3. 

Still recovering from childbirth. Try Saturday morning picnics in the park. 

  1. Make family dinner a big deal. Ready ON the table at 6pm (start getting ready at 5pm, worship music!) 
  2. Make singing hymns at family prayertime a big deal. 3 hymns a night. Have them sing. 
    1. How great Thou Art
    2. O the deep deep love of Jesus
    3. Be Thou my Vision

Category 4. 

  1. Sew 2 calico critter clothes for/with each girl over 2. (So 10 outfits)
  2. Teach Isaiah how to use the lightboard. Draw elites, grunts, brutes, or spartans.

 Category 5. 

  1. Have at least 1.5 hrs of MORNING homeschool time for the 3 big kids. 3 Rs.
  2. Have daily time with M and S and A, working through the phonics book how to read.
  3. For preschool: have M teach numbers/math, K teach letters/reading, and J teach Hebrew, and Isaiah teach history

Category 6. 

  1. Praise them!!! Thatvthey will know YOU CAN MAKE THE WORLD BEAUTIFUL
  2. Frequent After meals, and before dinner. 4x a day. 
  3. CHEERFULLY with them.Wheat in a cows stomach. Try no guilt and no yelling. Go from kidbto kid, teaching them techniques. Gentle voice, giving my tips, always positive. 
  4. PUAYA. Put away after your activity. Build habits: Tidy becomes their new baseline. Where they hang their coat up without thinking about it....

 Category 7. 

  1. Set up the toyroom
  2. Put bunk beds in the girls room
  3. Shade structure for playset. 
  4. 2 more Pakistani Mulberries shade trees, one more mulberry for circle of green. 
  5. contact wallbuilders
  6. Green the back wall.

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Ideas for June-July

Category 2: Hold a meeting with the 3 big ones where you field their questions before homeschool time----- 

Category 4: Start the Crafting Rotation, each kid a turn