PeanutButter Fingerprints: May 2014

Perspective. Is everything.

A text from Michael:

Then later he called. I was busy and let it go.

He called again. Still very busy.

A third time, this time on the house line. Must be important. Hunter runs my phone up from downstairs and I answer the fourth call.

Hello?

Michael: "Well, there you are! I sure was having a hard time getting ahold of you. "

[Aaron and Garrett who are naked and in my shower notice that I'm distracted and start spraying each other in the face]

STOP IT! I've been busy. I'm trying to give the kids a bath right now.

Michael: "So my belt buckle broke earlier today..."

[Children begin spraying the shower door on full blast and now it's coming through the seams]

SERIOUSLY! KNOCK IT OFF! Do you need something? I'm really busy and I can't just chat.

Michael "okbye"

So the context of this situation: I tried to take the kids to the library earlier in the day. Aaron is still in potty training mode. He's getting really good at it, which is both good and bad. Good because, he's had lots of practice recognizing his needs and responding to them like a big boy.

Aaron and I have a regular conversation that goes something like:

Me (in a happy, animated tone): Who's in charge of the potty?!?!
A: ME!!!!
Me: Who's in charge of the poopy?!?!?
A: ME!!!!
Me: Are you a diaper baby anymore?!?!?
A: NO!!!!
Me: Are you going to go on the Fathers and Sons campout!?!?
A: YESSSSS!!!!!

This is his motivation, you see. Dad won't take diaper babies with him to the quintessential MALE activity OF...THE...YEAR:

Dun dun DUN!

THE FATHERS AND SONS CAMPOUT!!!!

[cue wild applause and screaming]

This is coming up around Mother's Day, as (quite seriously) the BEST mother's day gift ever! I get all of the boys out of the house for the weekend and I am left with my girl... and my baby. We have a date night: popcorn and a movie, makeovers and a giggly sleepover party.

It's ....so lovely.

sigh.

Dad gets to wrangle all of the boys (which I'd like to point out that I do on a regular and ongoing basis) and experience the joy [*cough* headaches *cough*cough*] that comes with that tender responsibility. Inevitably they all come home dirty, sunburned, wearing nothing but their underpants sleeping with their drooling mouths hanging open after running through the woods all night in what I imagine is the living yearly embodiment of Lord of the Flies. Have at it.

I'm trying really hard to get Aaron to go. Really.

But today we had a setback.

At the library. A good 20 minutes from the house. My backup diaperbag left at Grandma's house several weekends earlier.

Aaron announces to me that he has pooped his pants.

No diapers. No change of clothes. No wipes. Going home as is will probably be worse for clean up later.

No problem. He's eating lots of cheese and bread. It's probably solid. I can do a battlefield clean up.

Let's go to the bathroom, Aaron.

It was worse than I expected. I still count my blessings, though. It could have been running down his legs and into his shoes. I took up residence in the handicap bathroom and went to work cleaning him up with only toilet paper.

WHO'S in charge of the poopy, Aaron!?!?
me

WHY DID YOU PUSH?
I not go on Fathers Sons?

THIS IS A MESS.
It's on my leg, mommy.

He got it on the outside of his pants. He got it on his undershirt. I wiped up as much as I could and laid his undershirt between his skin and the soiled underpants. I scooped it all out like the guts of a pumpkin. The patron in the next stall must have been mortified at both the conversation revealing the nasty predicament and the squishy plops into the toilet. She quietly left probably thankful it was not her having to clean it up.

I cleaned up the stall and the seat and then emerged from the stall holding my arms up like a surgeon ready for decontamination. I scrubbed the both of us as well as I could. The mess was now neatly contained on the inside of his clothes.

I went back out to Hunter who was dilegently sitting with Peter and my purse.

"I think he pooped his pants, mom"

Seriously!?!

Peter had a blowout. But I had no means of doing a battlefield diaper change with no spare diaper on my 20 minute trip to the library. NO DIAPER! What a rookie move. DUMB DUMB DUMB.

Ok kids, time to go.

I checked out our books (yes...because I am determined that the trip not be a waste) and we headed home.

All the way Garrett was complaining that he had to go to the bathroom.

G: I'm going to pee my pants!
Me: Why didn't you go at the library?
G: I was playing a game. I'm going to PEE.
Me: No you're not. Think of something else: Motercycles jumping through the air. Elephants. Tigers. Rainbows.
Hunter: RAIN! PUDDLES! WATERFALLS!
Me: [WHACK!] STOP IT!

There is a detour on the way home. The one straight shot road on Columbus Parkway that just goes. It's ....the ONLY way I know. I passed the two traffic control officers with a look of pleading and panic on my face.

Oh, dear LORD, You know I am directionally impaired. I CAN'T FIND MY WAY IF I TURN!!!

Breathe.

Ok. So, if he pees his pants, I'll just have to strip the car seat cover and wash it. Let's just see where this road takes us.

I did manage to find my way. Oakwood. Springs. Oh! Columbus again! They're all connected. I can do this.

We get home and Garrett has managed to keep it together.   He runs into the backyard. Hunter locks the door and Garrett peed his pants while screaming at the door to let him in.

Are you FREAKING KIDDING ME!?!?!

He strips his clothes at the door. I take my three hazmat children upstairs to commence the bathing. That's when Michael called.

He was bent out of shape yesterday because I fed him something healthy (although he blames it on a botched Costco trip), so I felt bad that I was short with him on the phone.

So I texted him:

Typical. I know he's only kidding, but still. Later he sent me an e-mail from several female co-workers to whom he forwarded my text. They agreed that I should be sent to a spa with lots of chocolate.

But before I knew that, I started looking at Nanny positions online in a shameful indulgence of running away day dreams.

This post has been brought to you by:
A dinner that is now two hours late.
Dishes and banana peels all over the yard spread by children who were fending for themselves while mom is blogging.
A mess of crackers under the highchair.
A bedroom that I am loathe to inspect because it's surely been flooded by now.
And...This cute baby

Until next time, dear readers....

I've been following the blogger Matt Walsh since he posted an amazing article about moms. It was truly inspiring.

He wrote today about homeschooling. I've been homeschooling for the last 7 years and it has been rewarding and excruciating all at the same time. Rewarding how? When my 2nd grader is doing algebra that makes our CT's mouth drop. When my 4th grader can brag that he is working two grade levels higher in his math.

Excruciating how? When my kindergartener plugs his ears and starts singing because he'd rather climb on the shed and nail the golf tee through the roof than sit and read a story with me. I read it anyway and he warmed up, because he really didn't know what he was missing, but in the meantime... DEAR LORD help me with THIS CHILD!!!

I take breather breaks throughout the day, when I'm exhausted and need to just engage quietly in some cerebral time of my own. That's where Matt comes in.

I realized today that I may just be missing an opportunity to engage my children meaningfully in a Socratic conversation. It was a couple of points he made in the article about parents modeling the desired behavior.

I read the following article and then decided to read it again to my children and discuss the points. Matt's text is in blue.

Me: Hunter I'd like you to listen while I read this to you.

Hunter: Ok

Behold: the two absolutely worst arguments against homeschooling

Posted on April 25, 2014 by The Matt Walsh Blog

Here’s the email I received last week. I was saving it for today, as I’ll be speaking at a homeschool conference tomorrow:
*The subject line of this email was: “Not all public school teachers are the devil.”*
Hi Matt,
I’ve been a pretty decent fan of some of your writings, and while I don’t always agree I find that you sometimes have an entertaining way of presenting your opinion. Anyway, all due respect, I find myself having a hard time continuing to follow you now that I’ve gone back and read through your views on education.
It doesn’t so much bother me that you seem to be PROUD of your lack of a college education. You seem to be of the lucky few smart enough to get away with having no real education to speak of (congratulations). What I can’t reconcile myself with is your vitriol and hatred for public education and your insistence on peddling “homeschooling” like it’s somehow the answers to all of our problems.

I worked in public education for many years so it’s hard for me to stomach your ignorance. However I’ve enjoyed many of your posts so I don’t want to give up on you just yet. Hopefully you’ll consider this email and consider retracting many of your statements about public school. Public school might not be perfect (we can’t all be perfect like you, Matt) but it’s certainly far superior to “homeschool”. Any number of studies prove this. Studies aside, I’d like to see your response to these two point:
1. The flaws in our public school system have to do with PARENTS. Parents send their kids to school and think their job is done, instead of being involved in their child’s education. How can the system ever improve if the involved parents pull out and do their own thing? We have a responsibility not just to our own family but to our community. Homeschool parents hurt their communities when they isolate themselves and remove their children from our academic institutions. If we don’t help the system, the system will not work.
2. You mock the idea of socialization, but the fact is that kids need to learn how to socialize. That skill is not ingrained in them. How can they learn proper social skills if they aren’t around other children? You might as well try to teach your kid how to swim without ever putting him in a pool. It’s most important for kids to learn the academic fundamentals, but learning proper socialization is very important as well. Public school gives young people the chance to become well adjusted adults.
I look forward to your responses to these two points, and to your admission that “homeschool” does far more harm than good to our society. I don’t think I can read your site again until that has happened.
In Christ,
Dan

Me: Do you agree with what he says?
H: You mean that homeschool is bad?
Me: Yup.
H: No.
Me: Why not?
H: Because I like homeschooling. And I learn more.
Me: How do you know that you learn more?
H: Because I'm doing higher math.
Me: Ok, but what about socializing? When do you get to spend time with other kids?
H: At church. At ward parties. At cub scouts. At Jiu Jitsu. At the Father's and Sons camp out.
Elle: At art class.
Me: Are those the ONLY places you see other kids?
H: (thinking)
Me: What about the park? The store? The library? Do you ever see kids there? You may not talk to them, like at the store, but you are still interacting with them in quiet ways. When we go to the park you usually find a new friend to run around and play with.
H: Well, ya
Me: Where else do you spend a lot of time with other kids learning patience, responsibility, sharing, taking turns...
E: Oooh! I know!
H: Shh! I want to figure it out.
Me: You fight and forgive. You have jobs and negotiate with one another. You practice kindness and learn together.
H: Oh! At home!
Me: That's right! So, let's see what Matt says about homeschool:

Hi Dan,
Thanks for reading.
I actually went back to check, and I can’t find the post where I refer to all public school teachers as ‘the devil.’ Now, I can tell you that I had a music teacher in elementary school who once ‘disciplined’ a kid by having him sit in front of the class while she went around the room and asked all of his classmates to insult him. True story.

Me: How would you like that? Have the teacher sit you at the front of the class and have everybody go around and say something nasty about you. You're fat. You're ugly. You're stupid. Does that sound productive and uplifting?
H: No. I wouldn't like that.

I’m not saying she was ‘the devil,’ but if the devil ever DID teach an elementary school music class, I’m sure he’d do something similar. Let’s just settle on calling her behavior ‘devilish,’ and leave it at that.
But, no, I don’t think all public school teachers are that bad. Some of them are, but not all, and probably not most. In my own experience, I’d say 10 to 15 percent of my public school instructors were so obnoxiously terrible at their jobs that I often wondered if their classes were elaborate practical jokes, or maybe some kind of strange performance art stunt. On the other side, a good 10 to 15 percent were wonderful, dedicated, tuned-in, engaged, and brilliant. The rest fell somewhere in between the two extremes, as is often the case in any profession. The only difference here is that, in most other (non union) occupations, the obnoxiously terrible ones can and will be fired.

Me: So even if a teacher is terrible they can't be fired. Even if a teacher molests children they can't be fired.
H: What? Really? Why?
Me: Because there are so many rules and protections in place for the teachers that firing them is almost impossible.

I notice that you have no problem laying the blame on parents (or PARENTS, as you call them), but, apparently, leveling even the slightest criticism at the sainted teachers is akin to accusing them of Satan worship. This strikes me as an awfully unbalanced way of approaching the issue.
Also, I’m anxious to read any number of those any number of studies you mentioned. I’m not sure what subject you taught in public school, but I’m positive you’d have given your students a failing grade if their Works Cited page simply said: “-Any number of studies.”

Me: What he's saying here is, "prove it". The other guy said that there were studies. Well, where are they?

That’s the thing about claiming to have read “studies” that validate your argument about public education being superior to home education — you really have to offer, like, maybe ONE example.
I’m not sure which studies you’ve researched, but I guess it isn’t the one confirming that homeschoolers outperform public schooled kids on standardized tests, or the one showing that homeschooled kids are more prepared for college, or the one showing homeschoolers achieving a higher 4th year GPA.
Really, though, we could go back and forth with studies all day (well, I could — still waiting to see you produce one on your end). What’s the point? This is part of the reason many people are thoroughly disgusted with the way we treat education in our country. We don’t need to be studying our kids like lab rats, running academic experiments on them, and then comparing and contrasting their performance with the other kids across town, and the kids across the world, and the kangaroos in the zoo. Education is not a competitive sport. I’m a little tired of this “quick — learn more stuff faster!” attitude. Education is a much deeper pursuit. It can’t always be quantified and qualified and whateverified. You can’t necessarily measure a person’s knowledge, anymore than you can measure their artistic talent or their sense of humor.
Maybe we should stop turning our kids into charts and bar graphs, and instead work on connecting with them as human beings.
Furthermore, if we treat education like a race (“Race to the Top!”), we only reinforce the notion that the whole endeavor is just a game to see who can absorb the most information, and carry it all across the finish line without having a nervous breakdown.

Me: Do you remember when we moved and I put you into public school for a few months? What did you start doing that Grandma was worried about?
H: You mean the blinking?
Me: Why did you start blinking all the time?
H: Because I was scared of my teacher because she yelled at me. Once I did the quiet coyote and I got in trouble. She would always yell at me.
Me: Do you still blink like that?
H: No
Me: Why not?
H: Because I'm out of public school and because of the Balance.

There is no finish line. Education is a lifelong journey, despite the fact that nowadays we tend to say: “Hey, you graduated college! You’re done! Now go watch Netflix until your eyes bleed!
So let’s forget the studies and move to your two points: 1) You say we should keep our kids in public school in order to help ‘the system.’
Dan, listen, I have to be real with you: this isn’t just a bad argument — it’s disturbing.
‘Help the system.’
Is this really a priority for parents? When my wife and I make a decision for our family, should we stop first and ask, “wait, but will this help the system?”

Me: When you are making a decision for yourself, do you have to ask if it will benefit Joe down the street first? You have been given free agency and with that agency comes responsibility. You are the product that you are returning to Heavenly Father. Who you are matters. What you do matters. When you are making a choice who do you need to consider?

H: Myself
Me: When do you want to worry about what will benefit everybody else? Do you know? When you want to earn money. If you want to make money then you need to worry about what other people need because then they will want to give you their money.   It's a win-win. When you care about other people and serving them then money will follow.
H: Well, Ethan only cares about money.
Me: If he only cares about money and not people, will he get money?
H: No, I guess not.

Would you REALLY put the welfare of ‘the system’ over that of your own children?
I’d hope that you wouldn’t, and I’d hope that this line of logic is unique to you, but I know that it isn’t. I’ve heard it before. I’ve heard it so often, in fact, that I’m starting to think I’m the strange one for having absolutely no desire to make my children martyrs for some bureaucratic machine.
You know what my kids need me to be? A parent. Their dad. Not a cog in the system, not a member of the community, not a loyal townsperson in the village, not a ‘team player.’
Sure, I’ll tell them not to litter and I’ll make sure they play nice with the other kids in the neighborhood, but when it comes to making choices about something as serious as their education, I don’t frankly care how our decision effects the community. Does that make me callous? I don’t know. I think it just makes me a man with priorities.
Would the school system be helped if my family ‘participated’ in it? Maybe, and I’m sure the circus would be helped if you went on stage and stuck your head in a lion’s mouth.

Me: Do you think that more people would go to the circus if you stuck your head in a Lion's mouth? Would people want to go see that?
H: Ya, probably
Me: Does it benefit you?
H: No
Me: So it's not a win-win, is it.
H: No

But you won’t sacrifice your scalp to the Ringling Brothers, and I won’t sacrifice my kids’ brains to public school. I guess we’re even.
2) You say that homeschooled kids aren’t properly socialized.
I give you this: with the exception of about 14 thousand other times, this is the first time I’ve ever heard this argument.
It’s an argument that seems to march on, even after its been disproven, discredited, deconstructed, and decapitated. I just promised to stop tossing around studies, so I won’t link to an article (here) that cites at least two different studies proving your assertion to be a myth.
I’ll only say that you chose a pretty strange analogy to prove your point. You can’t teach a child to swim without bringing him to a pool? I agree. But do you bring a child to the pool, drop him there with a thousand other kids, then come back 6 hours later, and repeat that process every day, five days a week, for the next 12 to 13 years? Or do you bring him to the pool, hang out with him, maybe even get in the water and play some Marco Polo, and then leave with him after a couple of hours?
I can tell you this: if you decide to just abandon your kid at the pool for hours and hours and hours on end, every day, for over a decade, he probably won’t do a lot of swimming. If he doesn’t drown (drowning is a very real possibility, especially if there’s only one lifeguard for every 40 kids), he’ll likely spend more time playing on his iPhone and smoking pot in the bathroom than learning the backstroke.
Indeed, when it comes to teaching your kid any other skill — whether its swimming, or driving, or riding a bike, or catching a baseball — all parents understand that their hands-on involvement is crucial. It’s only with the skill of ‘socializing’ where many of us suddenly decide that the matter should be outsourced to a factory in China (or a factory down the street, in this case).
Why do I even need to debunk the socialization claim? You’ve seen our society, haven’t you? You’ve interacted with people, right?

Me: Here let me show you this video:

Me: What is the girl in the video doing?
H: Working
Me: Right. She's working at a job earning money for herself and her family. The other kids are probably all in public school. They aren't working. They're out doing this stuff. So they all laughed after the girl was slapped. Was that funny?
H: No.
Me: They're running away at the end. Why?
H: Because they know that they will get in trouble.

Homeschooling might be increasingly popular, but the vast majority of the people you meet have been public schooled. And you’re telling me that the vast majority of the people you meet are ‘socially well adjusted’?
Really?
You and I both know that’s a lie. Sure, you can probably tell me about a homeschooled kid you met once who was totally weird and awkward and stuff, but I could see your anecdote and raise you school shooters, the bullying epidemic, youth suicide rates, a youth culture utterly dominated by cliques, fads, and trends, and then this:

H: What is that?
Me: It's called a beer bong. It helps you drink lots of alcohol as quickly as possible. Does that look like a smart thing to do?
H: No, not really.

Well adjusted adults?
WELL ADJUSTED ADULTS?
Go to a college campus — any college campus — and tell me again how these public schooled ladies and gentlemen are such well adjusted adults.
For God’s sake, Dan, they literally cannot socialize without inhaling a barrel of urine-flavored light beer ahead of time.
Public schools teach our kids how to socialize? Then why is this such a common sight:

Me: So I give you electronic devices, but are you allowed on them all day?
H: No, only after we are finished with our lessons or we use them for our lessons.

I’m not claiming that homeschoolers don’t use smart phones or beer bongs, but I am saying that an overwhelming preponderance of our society has been exclusively public schooled, and if public school helped ‘socialize’ us, you’d think we’d see SOME positive results SOMEWHERE.
Expecting your kid to learn ‘social skills’ from public school, is like sending him to live with chimpanzees so that he’ll learn proper table manners.
‘Socialization’ — in the public school context — means that your child will simply absorb behavioral cues from her peers. She learns to socialize by aping her friends, who are themselves only copying other girls. She learns to repress the parts of her that don’t fit in, and put on an exterior designed to help her fade into the collective. I’m not theorizing here, this IS the social process in public school.

Me: Who do you learn socialization from?
H: You and Dad
Me: Who do you practice with everyday?
H: Our siblings.

It’s also competitive; your social status depends on your ability to cut your peers down, until your can easily step on them and elevate yourself.
Expressing your ideas, showing vulnerability, communicating your deepest thoughts and feelings — these are all fervently discouraged. Kids are tasked with expressing not their own thoughts, but sufficiently imitating the thoughts and views of the peer collective. Children who can’t keep up, or who have no desire to keep up, will either have to be the most self-assured human beings on the planet (which is unlikely, since they haven’t been given the tools to develop that self-assurance), or they’ll become bitter, self-conscious, and depressed.

Me: Elle, when those girls at art class tried to tease you, why didn't you get upset?
E: Because I know Jiu Jitsu
Me: But if you had to see them everyday and they said that to you everyday over and over and you couldn't take Jiu Jitsu, would you probably start to feel bad.
E: Ya, I guess so.
Me: There are lots of kids that have to deal with that situation every day and they can't get away from it.

There is nothing positive about any of this. Nobody is better for it. Nobody benefits. The psychological damage can be lasting, maybe even permanent. Again, this is not my theory. This is just the way it works. How could you be so oblivious, Dan?
Now, homeschool socialization is different. Here, a child learns his social skills from his parents. He is oriented by adults, not other children. He matures, and grows, and is provided a safe environment to, as the phrase goes, be himself. Despite common perception, I don’t think most homeschool kids are locked in a tower like Rapunzel, and forbidden from human contact. They have friends, they play sports, they emerge into society and interact with people.

Me: That'd be kinda e kinda funny, don't you think: Monkeys teaching you to have table manners. What would that look like, do you think?
H&E: [grunting, jumping, arms flailing]

The only difference is how they learn to interact. The public school kid learns to interact based on how his peers carry on in the hallways and at the lunch table, whereas the homeschool kids learns to interact based on the guidance of his parents.
Who has a better foundation for becoming a well adjusted adult?
I’m not insinuating that homeschool is perfect, or that homeschool students are perfectly adjusted, but I am absolutely declaring that ‘socialization’ is the WORST part of public school.
Find a different selling point, Dan.
I appreciate the email.
In Christ (whose Word, incidentally, exhorts us to “train up a child in the way he should go; even when he is old he will not depart from it”),
Matt

The truth is I really struggle with homeschooling. Especially at this time of year when I feel totally beat. I put too much pressure on myself. But at the same time when I can't get through a single reading lesson with Garrett....it's really hard.

What I'd really like to do is build that private school I dreamed up back when Ethan was in Kindergarten, but alas...I lack the money. To those who have ever done great and wonderful things I know they would hear me and say, that's really not the problem. Well, great and wise master who has already unlocked the mysteries of realizing expensive dreams...it is to me, because I don't know how.