Little and Hidden in Cyberspace

There has been some recent conversation about comment boxes. Comments open? Comments closed? Comments moderated? And I have received some dismayed emails from readers asking why I've closed comments here at Real Learning and never opened them at Serendipity. 

On the morning of September 30th, someone left a comment on a post demanding that I explain how I was using Waldorf in my home. She questioned my commitment to raising my children as Catholics and she questioned my faith. She also left me a link to a post elsewhere with a very lengthy, growing, heated discussion. I read the comment, felt my face grow hot, my pulse quicken, and my stomach turn. There it was, in black and white, someone daring to say that I was not a good enough parent, that I wasn't giving my children an adequate education in the faith and that I was leading other people away from God. And she was doing it here, in my space.That's pretty much as low as it gets, in my opinion.

I had some options at this point: I could close comments on that post, only to have the determined heckler post on the next available post (she did). I could delete the comment and get on with my day, checking back frequently to make sure it wasn't posted again or that no one else posted one like it.  I could answer her, invite a dialogue and defend myself (going over to that post on the other blog to do the same there, as well). Or I could password protect my blog and walk away for a while to collect my thoughts.

Oh, and where was this comment? It was beneath my five-year-old's birthday post. Ever since I 've started blogging, my children look forward to seeing their birthday post and to reading what I say about them on their special day. Fortunately, I deleted the comment before my children read it. And then I password protected my blog. Then, I prayed hard about what to do next.

There was a deluge of mail from people who like this blog. For them, I am very grateful. It was a very, very kind thing for people to write and express their support for this little corner of cyberspace. My immediate problem was that I was in the middle of a very busy week, important in the life of my children and integral to the life of my family. I could not sit and watch comments and comment on comments and delete comments if necessary. I could not be available to all those people out there and still be a good mom to the people God entrusted to my care. Kind of ironic, huh? I couldn't write about and defend the life I love and live it at the same time.

As I went about my day, my week, really, I thought a lot about why I was blogging at all. What was the point? I began to blog with the encouragement of two women, in particular. One of them emphasized to me that my blog could be a lovely example of what it is to live a full life of faith at home with a large family. The other woman reminded me that I am a writer. I've been writing a regular column for Catholic publications since 1993. The blog would give me freedom to expand and to link and to have photos and to write about home education far more than I could in my columns.

Whenever I wrote a column that bothered someone or about which they disagreed, I'd get a letter in the mail, usually several weeks after I wrote. I write two weeks in advance of publication and then the writer would send her concerns to the paper and the paper would forward it me. I'd read it and throw it away. It was food for thought, but rarely did it ask for or need a response. It didn't really intrude upon my day or take time from my family at all. The pleasant letters encouraged me and made me smile, the negative mail bothered me, but only for a short while. And then it was over.

With blogging, the negative comment goes up in my space. It begs my attention. And in my absence, it can multiply until there is a lynch mob. Conversely, the positive comment often begs an answer, too. Someone likes an idea, but has a question. And for some reason, often the answer is expected immediately. I can't function like that. My children need me 24/7 and they are the only ones to whom I can be accountable all the time.

So, on the  the feast of my favorite saint, Therese of the Child Jesus, between Katie's birthday and Patrick's birthday, I took another hard look at why I was blogging and if blogging was beneficial to my soul or to the life my family. Today I am sharing with you a little of what has been on my heart in the month since that time. God has blessed me with the ability to write. I think in narrative and I write easily and fairly well. Because I write easily, it is easy for me to share my family and my life with you all. Easy, but perhaps not appropriate. Because there is another side to me. For better or worse, I am painfully shy. So, while writing is easy, dialogue is incredibly difficult.

When I first ventured into the world of internet community, it was pretty nice to be able to converse in writing, trading ideas and gaining inspiration, all the while ducking the shyness. But, those conversations have changed over time and somehow, so has the expectation of me. This --incessant internet discussion-- is not  my medium. It is way, way too hard for me. This can't be Christ's burden for me. This yoke is neither easy nor light.

While I might write well, I cannot give to people on the internet the effort that is required of me for dialogue. In the past year, my life has changed dramatically. I have added a baby, launched a child into the world (and lost my best helper) and stood here at home while my husband accepted a job which requires tremendous amounts of travel. The toll these things have taken on my family are enormous. The tasks I face at home while I try to educate the children (there are eight in my care every day and a ninth at college who still needs me) God has entrusted to me are overwhelming. I cannot do them well and be available online in the way that has come to be expected. "I have enough dialogue here at home; I can't do dialogue online as well." (That's not my line but the author of that line knows how grateful I am to her for both the line and her wise counsel throughout this process.)

I wrote a book. It's a bubbling over of a life I love. I thought that was God's call, the way He wanted me to use my talent. I did not know then what an enormous strain that book would be on my family. And now, I blog. I love my blog. I love to share the things we do, the thoughts I think. But I do not blog because I think I'm teaching or preaching. I blog because I wonder aloud. Sometimes I wonder at the darkness. Sometimes I wonder at the silliness. Often, I wonder at the joy. That's all it is: one woman's wondering at a life filled with God's abundance.

So here I was on the  feast of the saint of the little way, in the middle of the week during which my family celebrates how much God has blessed us with children. And I could see that my presence in cyberspace was not little at all. I could also see that it is not God's will for me to be anything but little.Therese has been so good to me. It is not a coincidence that this was all happening on her feast. Anything I do or write online can only come from the bubbling over of a full life here at home; it cannot rob my home. It cannot deplete me the way conversation invariably does. Because I know that it will leave me with nothing left of me to give. That's where I was the day I decided to close the comment box.

As I mentioned, my children look forward to their birthday posts. And, as I mentioned, this all occurred during birthday week. Patrick's birthday was next up and Patrick was hurt to think that with password protection, no one would see his birthday post.  My children told me how much they loved my blog. My mother told me again how much she appreciated it and I reflected on what a great medium of communication it has been for our relationship. And I had the precious emails of people who reminded me that I had somehow blessed them, too.So, I went through and manually closed comments on every single post so that I could post Patrick's  birthday post.

I am not unfriendly. And I don't want to be perceived as being unfriendly. When I closed comments, there were 2,811 comments on this blog. I appreciate those expressions of online friendship. And I do miss comments. Sometimes, I wonder if anyone is reading at all (I stopped checking stats almost a year ago, but I guess that's another post;-). Unquestionably, though, it is so, so much better for me and for my family that now I have the ability to blog in the morning and then to turn off the computer and walk away for the rest of the day. I have to be able to do that. I have to be able to blog for Him. And not for me. Not for the nice things people say. Not for the attention. Not for the people who would insist I give to them before I give to my family.

Serendipity was launched on birthday week, though we'd really planned to wait until later. Katherine worked incredibly long hours to pull together what was formerly only snippets of ideas and stories sitting in a draft folder of a blog that only had a banner and a name. It was our attempt to bring something beautiful out of a week that was dark and ugly on the 'net. To show and not to tell how very much the beauty of our Lord is at the center of our children's education. Every week, we can share our plans and show our work and hopefully, in some small way, inspire families to enjoy being at home and educating their children. Our children have the opportunity to show their work, too, something not often possible for children who can't hang their work on the walls outside a classroom. It's a safe and happy place.  It's a joy to write and that's as it should be.

It's been very quiet here in front of my computer screen. And I do miss the chatter and conversation of  women I met in cyberspace. But I have also been afforded the gift of time to cherish true friendships. The people whom I've met online and  grown to love via email and phone calls and a shared history of genuine friendship still write and call and for that I'm very grateful. Some of those people were feeling rather neglected as I tried to keep up with the dialogue of strangers.

I'd like to believe that in the quiet, I'm more likely to hear God. Because that's what I really want for my home, for my children, for my life, for my blog--incessant dialogue with God. So I'm trying here to do what seems impossible, stay little and hidden enough to serve Him in a place that is very big and very public.I'm trying to live what I believe and blog what I live.

Autumn Tea

Every year since she was five, Mary Beth and her friend Bailey have had a tea party in the autumn to celebrate Mary Beth's birthday. Sometimes, they've been larger affairs, with several friends. Sometimes they've been "tea for two." And twice, they included infant sisters. A few of years ago, the tradition changed ever so slightly to include Bailey's little sister, Hope, and Mary Beth's sister, Katie, and to include celebrating Katie's birthday, too. Four little girls, dressed for tea, giggling in the dining room--an autumn ritual I wouldn't miss for the world.

Mary Beth worried this year, a bit. For the first time, Bailey has gone to school. The ease of scheduling a day for tea and play is forever gone. This was her friend who played Little House with her for hours (in costumes made for both girls by Bailey's mom), her friend who loved to "craft" out of whatever they could scrounge up, her kindred spirit. Both girls worried about how school would change their friendship.

Happily, Bailey had a scheduled day off from school during the week of Mary Beth's birthday. The tradition lives! Mary Beth had the distinct privilege and pleasure of reading an advance copy of Tea and Cake with the Saints by Alice Cantrell  when her party was still in planning mode. The menu was taken from the Autumn Tea suggestions (only Mary Beth substituted sprinkled butter cookies for ginger snaps because she's not so fond of ginger).

There were smoked ham sandwiches on tiny croissants, a savory parmesan bread that made the whole house smell warm and inviting while it baked, and spiced apple cider. The girls decorated the table with gourds and flowers and tiny pumpkin candles. They had a wonderful giggly time and I think we were all relieved to know that a change in schooling would not mean a change in friendship.

What's that I hear you saying? You want to know more about Tea and Cake with the Saints? Well, by all means, go brew yourself a cup of autumn comfort and come right back. I'll tell you all about it!
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Tea and Cake with the Saints: A Catholic Young Lady's Introduction to Hospitality and the Home Arts is so much more than just another tea party book. It's a gentle primer on Catholic Homemaking. In this beautifully illustrated book, Alice Cantrell, author of Sewing with St. Anne, gently inspires young ladies to be charitable and hospitable at home with their own families, in groups with friends of all ages, and even out of doors!

The book begins with a note to parents. After that, it is written directly to the young ladies. Any good tea party book should include a brief history of tea time and directions for brewing a fine cup of tea. This one does that and Mrs. Cantrell is such a gifted artist that even the tea bag is darling! Some time is spent going over the basics of kitchen safety and hygiene, complete with gentle reminders to clean up well. Clearly, Mrs. Cantrell has some experience with the tendency girls this age have to overlook cleaning details.

Girls are encouraged to begin to keep a homemaking notebook. Here they will gather wisdom and inspiration for homes of their own and will begin to thoughtfully organize all those components to homemaking. Clear, inspiring directions are given for making and adding to a personal household record book. Mary Beth is looking forward to watching her household record book grow right alongside mine. This pleases me to no end since she is the reason I began to keep my own notebook.

Tea and Cake with the Saints is organized according to the seasons of the year, beginning with winter.For every season, there is a full tea time menu and recipes. Throughout the book quotes from classic children's literature  are sprinkled amidst helpful kitchen tips and instruction and many, many ideas for bring grace and beauty to life through homemaking.  In the Winter section, in addition to a tea featuring hot chocolate and cheddar muffins, girls will be inspired to make some simple but meaningful gifts and to consider hosting a recipe swap or cookie exchange party.

Mrs. Cantrell reminds the girls that manners are simple: a sensitivity to the feelings of others. In a few short pages, she gently encourage Christian charity at home and over time and distance.  Examples of  simple thank you notes and written invitations give girls a springboard for many future correspondences.

The Spring section sings with the joy of new life! Girls learn to set a pretty spring table, to make and deliver May baskets and to plan and plant a Mary garden, the perfect setting for a tea in honor of the Mother of God. All the gardening notes, of course, are to go in the gardening section of the notebook. Enthusiastic young gardeners will want to share. Ideas for a seed exchange (complete with a simple gardening apron idea) provide plenty of fodder for yet another party.

In the Summer section there are lots of ideas for summer parties and many variations on iced tea. This book is infused with southern charm and nowhere is it more apparent than on the pages where Mrs. Cantrell writes and paints about picnics. Even the ants are too cute for words. I was glad to be reminded that picnics are lovely in the autumn, too, since I doubt I could wait until next summer to put some of these ideas in motion. The Summer section also offers ideas for letter writing, an nearly lost art in this electronic age. Lazy summer days, with a thermos of lemonade, are perfect for writing long letters in the shade of a tree.

The Autumn section was the inspiration for Mary Beth's birthday tea. I'm happy to report that this new eleven-year-old was able to plan and prepare and decorate for the party all on her own, using Mrs. Cantrell's clear instructions (though I admit I was closeby, if for no other reason than I didn't want to miss out on the fun).

The book closes with a section on "beautifying your bedroom. Isn't that much nicer than saying "Clean up your room!?" Mrs. Cantrell perches on a young girl's bed and, with all her southern graciousness, inspires our daughters to clean their rooms. She doesn't shout. She doesn't threaten. She doesn't storm into the room with a big, green trash bag and start stuffing everything in sight (not that I know anyone who does that;-). She just gently inspires them to clean and organize and then to keep it that way. Personally, I was tickled pink by the results in my house. The book is worth the purchase price if only for those few pages.

Don't tell the girls on my Christmas list, but I plan to tuck a copy of this book, with supplies for making homemaking notebooks, and an apron into a basket for Christmas gifts. It could also be included with a recipe box, full of family favorites or with provisions for any one of the craft ideas. It could be tucked into a picnic basket for a very special, happy gift . However you package it, do put the books into the hands of a girl you love. Let Mrs. Cantrell come into their lives and gently inspire them to be gracious and Godly keepers at home.

I think this book is an important one. That seems like a very serious thing to say about a "tea party" book. But this book is about much more than tea. It's about home. At its core, it's about Christian love. It is a book that brings to life the importance hospitality and genuine charity. In a society of increasing unconnectedness and unbridled competition, it is necessary and urgent that we slow down and deliberately teach our daughters to offer the comfort and love of home. We take the time and care to do this not because we are eager to outdo Martha Stewart or to put on an impressive show, but because we love our families and friends. And we even love the stranger. This is a book about beautiful service, the service of young women to their families and then to the people at their gates. This book starts the conversation of true charity with our daughters. How can we begin to think of them as women of love and genuine charity? How can they begin to think of themselves that way? They can begin by doing small things with great love. And this book is a treasure trove of those small things. If every one of our daughters read it and implemented the ideas found in it, we'd be well our way to ensuring comfort and joy in the homes of the next generation.

Keep it real

Danielle asks us to be real today.  In part, she writes, I love reading about other Catholic families, but let’s be real: Most of us aren’t going to be airing our dirty laundry here. And of course that’s how it should be. At least to some extent.

Since I really did air  my dirty laundry online, perhaps I shouldn't comment on this angle of blogging, but...

We read these blogs to be encouraged. When we write these blogs, it's helpful to remember that we are called to build each other up.  Sometimes, the great idea, the beautiful organized home, the perfect lesson plans, really do encourage and build up another woman.  They give her tangible inspiration. I have printed Alice's tea idea and plan to use it on Friday.  Kim's home organization tips bless me every day, a dozen times a day. And I admit to having Dawn's post on lesson planning open all day on Saturday while I tried to refocus my own plans.  I'm so grateful for these women of faith!

Sometimes, it's the admission that we're struggling that offers a blessing.It's a blessing to be able to pray with a friend, for a friend.It's a blessing to see how she can start with a mess and to cheer her on as she brings peace and beauty to her family's lives. We don't want to write or read day after day about how hard it is, how much we want a moment to ourselves, how tired we are, how much laundry there is. That would be discouraging.  But there is comfort, every once in awhile, to know that we are not alone in our struggles--our imperfections. And there is great comfort in knowing that it's okay not to be perfect.

Danielle is the master of being real,encouraging her readers with humor and graciousness. We know she irons once a year. We know she's been caught speeding (more than once).  We know her children have eaten less than perfect diets occasionally.  And it's all good.  Because we are always assured that God is at work in the Bean home. If it were perfect there, they wouldn't need Him. But they do need Him and Danielle doesn't leave you with the ugly imperfect; she points you to the beautiful source of grace.

We're all working together towards heaven.  And guess what? Heaven and the blogosphere are not one in the same. Blogs are nothing but a waste of precious time if they're not helping us get to heaven.  Meet me where I am, with my imperfections and my insecurities and walk with me towards the Perfector. Be my friend. My real friend.

10 Random Facts about me--and YOU!

I never got tagged, but I read them all--at least I think I did.  And I decided not to write my own, but to borrow from all of you so...

1.Like Cheryl,  I wear this nightgown almost every night.

2. Like Kristina, I won our Junior High spelling bee and my favorite ice cream is peppermint stick.

3.Like Jenn, I've always wanted to be a homesteader...but I'm such a city girl, have no experience and I'm allergic to most everything on the farm -- grass, hay, trees, animals. It's not really a perfect fit. And my husband has no desire to farm. I've adjusted my dream somewhat. To own an old big farmhouse and small piece of land -- a small organic farm to grow herbs, fruits and/or vegetables? I think we want a hobby farm or be a gentleman farmer like Thomas Jefferson.
4. Like Margaret, I have tremendous respect for my friends who can sew. I myself cannot sew to save my life.

5.Like Alice, my name is between the covers of one of Lissa's Little House books, 'though it's not a dedication, but a "thank you."

6. Like Meredith, I am an introvert--but a real one, not a sort of one. I am really very shy.

7.  Like Jen, I worked as a lifeguard in high school (and college and while pregnant with my first child--I also taught swim lessons and coached the swim team).

8.Like Bridget, I start listening to Christmas music in October.

9.Like Kathryn, my favourite colour is pink. (I used that one from her because I could use "ou" instead of "o" twice!)

10. Like Sarah, I hate ketchup and I have an aversion to Ginger ever since I had it with morning sickness (though I still love the smell of Ginger perfume from Origins). I also love the smell of tea tree oil and of lavender oil...

And...I noticed that Lissa never got tagged so, she's it!

Empathy

My husband and I were recently discussing a major goal in the raising of children:  the development of empathy.  We want our children to be empathetic.  As a matter of fact, I see empathy as crucial  to maturity.  If a child can't grow to see outside herself and to "feel for someone else,"  she will not be an effective parent or spouse or friend or minister.  You cannot nurture or love or serve without seeking to understand.

Adults who have little or no capacity for empathy are emotionally stuck.  They are children.  They are so self-absorbed that they cannot relate.  And often, they are unaware of this handicap.  Our job as parents is to ensure that our children grow into an awareness of other people and learn to empathize.

Like so many other things, we "teach" empathy by modeling it.  When we empathize, particularly when we are sensitive to our children, they learn to be sensitive to others. And we praise empathy.  When we see a child nurturing a sibling or even a pet, we call it what it is and we encourage more of the same behavior. There are many, many oppoprtunities to develop empathy in a large family.

I've noticed that some children have a natural tendency towards empathy and it takes just a little fine tuning on my part to encourage virtue.  Some children, though, are not as inclined.  We have to talk about empathy more.  We have to point out opportunities to understand and to serve.  And we have to correct self-centered behavior frequently.

Last night, I witnessed such tender empathy that I was inspired by my child.  Nicholas and Stephen are 22 months apart.  But they are nearly the same size.  Stephen, who is older, is actually a bit smaller.  They are inseparable.  And they delight in pretending they are twins. They both have asthma. Nicholas has had a rough road of it lately and has required frequent treatments using a nebulizer.  Last night, as he was holding the mask up to his face, his head began to nod and his eyelids grew heavy.  Stephen noticed, took the mask in his hand, and helped Nicky to put his head on the pillow.  There Stephen sat for twenty minutes more until all the medicine was gone and his best friend in the world slept soundly.