On The Moral Education of My Little Trees

I just finished reading another Newbery book: A Gathering of Days by Joan Blos. I am compiling a list of books I hope my kids will pick up and read some day. (I plan to have most of them in my personal library.) Is it Charlotte Mason who teaches that, through stories, a child empathizes with the characters and thereby is helped to build character and learn life's lessons?

One of the things that jumped out at me from this read was that, back in the day, children were actively taught moral education. In one scene in the book a young girl is being drilled on the definitions of justice, generosity, and gratitude. These days, it seems character education is an afterthought in the school, reintroduced probably due to the overall lack of character in the students. (I don't remember any such focus when I was in public school.)

Yesterday, I was listening to an interview on NPR, and the theme was centered around the pursuit of one's dreams. The interviewee, a mother and career woman, was, at one point, describing the guilt she felt trying to balance her career and motherhood, resentment oozing at the fact that her husband rarely, if ever, left work to care for a sick child. Not to imply that men should never be primary caregivers... But I sensed a selfish undertone. Is this the message society is giving to our children: to pursue your dreams no matter what? I see a reflection of the spoiled child who seems to think they should get whatever they want right now.

Although I desperately want my children to pursue and fulfill the dreams of their hearts, I also want them to understand the value of sacrifice. I want them to have the discernment to see the difference between needs and wants, to be able to determine priorities, and to understand that, frequently, the greatest fulfillment comes from putting the needs of others before your own.

Although I may not get around to teaching specifically the 'Moral Catechism' I am preparing my reading list.

It's Gone.

My coffee mug. The one I've had for years.

I left it outside on the grill. Chris kicked a ball....

He came inside, apologies and blame-shifting words tripping out of his mouth.
A simple "I'm sorry" and some space would have been better.

Later, as I stared at the shards in the trash, trying to think of some use for the broken, painted flowers,
Finley said, "Mom, I know you liked your cup. But you can find another one you'll like."

Where have I heard those words before?

NASCAR

The thing about having kids is that you end up paying attention to things you probably never would have otherwise.

We love Pixar movies. We loved Cars. Joe loved Cars. We ended up with a fleet of Cars cars. So it wasn't a big surprise when, one day, Chris happened upon a real NASCAR race on TV this past spring and Joe begged to watch it. April in Talledega. One big (scary) crash. Jimmie Johnson wins. Result: One three-year-old Jimmie Johnson fan.

It doesn't matter where we go. If Joe sees a Lowe's or a 4 anywhere on a sign, he asks if that is Jimmie Johnson. On Sundays, when we are trying to watch a football game, Joe is begging to watch racing.

My respect for sports is growing. Before I paid attention, I thought football was guys piling up on each other down after down with a few passes here and there. I am just beginning to understand the strategy and thought that goes into it all. Good football players are smart. Racing is not just a car tearing around the track...

I still wonder sometimes how it is we can spend so much money just for the sake of winning and entertainment, but regardless, I'm letting myself get sucked in. A few weeks ago, when the 48 car got tangled up in a crash on the third lap, well... I guess I'll admit there is more than just one NASCAR fan in the house.

Midweek Update

Some things are very predictable. Nearly every time we drive through the neighborhood to our house, I hit a certain tree branch with the windshield of the van. Every single time, Joe says, "What was that?"

Some things should be predictable. I let Finley make her sandwich today. I did not watch over her shoulder. Halfway through spreading the jam, she told me she had been licking the knife after every swipe.

Some things are not predictable. There hasn't been much non-predictableness lately.

Above is another abstract of Finley's, inspired by the new box of crayons.

Last week, the weather was beautiful, so I took advantage of it and built three raised-bed frames out of some old treated lumber we had lying around. Then I borrowed the neighbor's mower, mowed up some leaves, and dug them into the soil in the boxes I placed in the garden. This was after I meticulously dug up and pulled out all the Bermuda grass from the area the far box is sitting on. I topped the boxes off with more shredded leaves to prevent any weed seeds from sprouting over the winter as they are prone to do here in the south. I still have some lettuce growing, and should probably eat some salad before it freezes.

We also borrowed the neighbor's tiller and tilled up the rest of the garden and reseeded it with some rye grass. If we put the house on the market, I want there to be a small, nice, manageable garden... not an overwhelming trash plot.

The weather is starting to turn chilly. Maybe I can get some artwork done if we are forced inside. I have some ideas bouncing around in my head. It would be nice to have a chance to get them out...

Paper, Crayons, Finley...

My kids have great distrust when it comes to dogs. They have also picked up on Chris's dislike of doggie poo in the yard. Finley decided to make a sign for the front door to make it clear to the neighbors that there are to be (translation) No dogs in our yard.

Fin came down with a cold this week, so we have stayed home all week. This, combined with paper and a new box of crayons made for a lot of pictures. Here are two I was especially fond of:

Jane, our rabbit

(complete with small black spots in her fur)

and a cow.

I should have taken some pictures of some of her more colorful (and typical) work. Perhaps I will post more later.

Now that she is over most of the cold and only a cough remains, I think she is hungry for the company of others. She made this sign this morning:

(translation) Come to Fin's house if you have a kid.

I love how she is trying to sound out words. I think I'll worry about spelling later.

The Search Continues

One thing I'm learning about myself is that I give up too easily. Being the realist that I am, I see negatives and difficulties very clearly and tend to shut myself down as a result. I'm trying to overcome that tendency.

Just when I was starting to re-examine all the difficulties of selling the house, downsizing, and sacrificing for this crazy dream we have, and wondering if we should just stick in out in Nashville until the kids are grown, Kevin and Norm from This Old House were on a talk show on NPR. Some guy called in to say that he and his wife had built their dream-home from scratch, debt-free, buying supplies with any extra money they had after paying the bills and feeding themselves. He credited TOH with giving him some of the confidence he had to tackle such an endeavor. I was re-inspired. As Bob the Builder says: "Can we do it? YES WE CAN!"

So last Wednesday, we drove down toward Chapel Hill to look at a piece of property that Chris had seen online and was obsessed with. It was a forty acre property with a house, a trailer, and some storage buildings not pictured on the listing. This turned out to be another one that looked a lot better online than in reality... The house was a natural fun-house with sloping floors, a maze-like layout, ridiculous paint colors, and the terrible smell of mildew. The trailer wasn't in much better shape. The walls of the barn had lost most of its boards. The previous owners had deposited large piles of trash throughout the property. Thirty of the forty acres was tremendously rocky; and not much can grow on a rock.

But it was beautiful. The wooded acres were beautiful. Moss on the rocks were bright and beautiful. The leaves were changing. I could see potential in the grown-up pasture.

I found myself looking at the falling-down barn, and imagined re-locating the solid, round cedar posts into the house we would build back from the road and salvaging the barn boards for weathered looking cabinets. The hardwood floors in the house could be re-used. The mounds of trash could be hauled away...

So although we (thankfully) aren't scrambling to sell this house to snatch up this particular piece of land, it would be a possibility if the time and price was right... I can't wait to see what happens when the time is right.