So proud

May 5, 2011

Today, my son D had his first Occupation Therapy session after a month-long break—his teacher was on medical leave for the month of April. He was excited to see her, but I was feeling a little sheepish since we hadn’t practiced his handwriting as much as I would’ve liked.

As we walked into the school where he has his weekly sessions, I mentally went over all the things he did this past month.

Apparently, so did he.

Because as she approached us with a wide smile and a hug for D, he pulled back and said, “Guess what I learned to do???“

And he put his hand under his armpit and began pumping up and down until the telltale “farting” noise came out.

My heart, it swells with pride.

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Thanks, honey!
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Filed Under: Fairly Odd Husband, Fairly Odd Kids 9 Comments

The best game ever

April 25, 2011

I saw a beautiful kickball game today.

OK, I know that “beautiful” + “kickball” don’t always show up in the same sentence but bear with me:

This afternoon, I walked outside to the back of our weekly homeschool coop and saw a bunch of kids—ranging in age from about six to fifteen—running and laughing. One of the boys—around eight years old—breathlessly told me, “This is the Best Game Ever!!!“

I wondered what game they must’ve invented to make it the “best game ever”.

Turns out, they were just playing kickball.

What made it beautiful though were all the different ages playing together.

Where they competitive? Hell, yeah. Except when they weren’t, like when a sweet three-year-old in a dress asked if she could kick. Then, they were gentle, even the boys who were at that age when sometimes gentle can be trumped by the desire to win.

At one point, my six-year-old son (D) was sitting on second base, apparently tired out by all the activity of the morning. The teenager “pitched” the ball and the kick went sailing over his head, straight past my son.

With a lazy wave of his foot, D stopped the ball from sailing past, without getting up off his butt.

I waited for the older boys to chide him for sitting when he should obviously been on his feet, trying to stop the ball, trying to win. Instead, the teen laughed and said, “NICE stop!” and congratulated him on doing it without having to get up off the ground.

I’m fortunate to see a lot of teens like this every week. Sweet, friendly, happy teens who make me feel good about my chances of raising the same. It makes my heart swell.

And it turns a regular kickball game into the best, most beautiful, game ever.

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Filed Under: Fairly Odd Kids, Homeschooling 6 Comments

Passed over

April 21, 2011


I used to be a good Catholic. Well, “good” if that equates going to church (most weeks), going to Confession (and telling the priest almost everything), and attending CCD (though I remember nothing of those classes except which girls were nice to me).


Oh and I remembered to pray when I needed/wanted something.


But, really, I was a pretty pathetic Catholic, especially when you consider that I didn’t learn what the Trinity was until I was in (Catholic) college. “Waitaminute—Jesus is supposed to BE God and the holy spirit too?!?!” Blew my mind.

Since abandoning that faith in my twenties, I’ve dabbled in Unitarian Universalism and, now, agnosticism (another way of saying, “The eff if I know!“).

With kids now, I’ve been determined to raise them with an open mind and allow them to come to their own conclusions about faith and religion. I figured they’d hear me talking about my belief in a higher being (which I call “god” most of the time) and latch on to this.

Instead they find my quasi-beliefs sort of quaint and ridiculous.

When I was explaining the story of Jesus at Christmas and did my typical, “Some people believe. . .blah, blah, blah“, one of my kids scoffed at the notion of any god at all.

“What do you call people who don’t believe any of it?” “An atheist?”, I said quietly.

“Well, that’s what I am then.”

Gulp.

And while I respect their decision, whatever it may be, my suppressed Catholic beliefs squirmed uncomfortably in my gut, as if them uttering those words will bring a bolt of lightning down onto our house.

Good thing I no longer believe in hell or I’d really be nervous.

Interestingly, while all this has been going on, I read Stacey’s post at Is There Any Mommy Out There? where she wrestles with her child’s growing belief in the “saved” vs the “damned” from their attendance at a Christian school. Her dilemma is the yin to my yang.

But if I had to choose between my child having no religious faith, or thinking that people could burn in hell for eternity for having different beliefs, I think I’ve got the better end of the staff. (heh)

Though they’d better still stay up late and watch The Ten Commandments with me. I want to impress them with all the lines I’ve memorized.

Are you raising your kids with formal religion? Is it the same religion you grew up with or is it something different? How would you feel if your kids’ beliefs differed greatly from your own?

Also, I realize religious discussion can be something of a hot button, so please be respectful. If I don’t like a comment, I will feel free to smite it with my all-powerful finger.
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Filed Under: Fairly Odd Kids 16 Comments
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