We've never discussed why but when I was a freshman in college, my brother bought me a book. One of the first passages I underlined was this,
Paul (the Apostle) did not change his message according to what others might think. Only people-lovers are able to confront. Only people-lovers are not controlled by other people.
While reading this book, it slowly occurred to me that I was built for more than my social life. I was not simply the sum of my reputation among friends, the clothing I wore, the things I read. I was hand-made by God and made with His purposes and plan in mind. I didn't belong to myself but I was a soul in the care and flock of God. Reading this book was truly a turning point for me.
A passage I double-highlighted says,
According to Ephesians, what do we really need? We need to be a corporate body, smitten with the glory of God, committed to the unity of the church, deluged by his love, and faithful as we walk together in obedience to him, even in our suffering. We need to need other people less and love other people more.
A co-dependent, a compliment-junky, a hoarder of comments and criticisms, I was a hot mess. In many ways, I think I still am these things. I'm wired this way, you might say. But these words really reached out to me and pointed me to Biblical truth that had been there all along.
Throughout college and into our marriage, and even as we started parenting, I have devoured the books by this author and others from P&R press. This particular author has written about addiction, anxiety and depression. When our church plant dissolved, our hipster honeymoon ended and I found myself thinking about the counseling program where this author teaches.
Two years ago, I took my first class with this author. I still feel the smitten star-struckness that I had when I go to a book signing or when I sat by Mr. Rogers in Sunday School. However, we started writing weekly responses for class. And through his comments on my papers and through class itself, I found the dialogue to be very equalizing. My sister reminds me, "Grad school is an iterative process." And foundational to our theology, is an insistence on humility, a wisdom about being broken human messes. So therefore, this teacher/author/counselor insists on being human and I have come to see him as a co-struggler, another pilgrim on the same wild journey.
So then, when the internship came up, it was a chance to counsel with real counselors. To learn under these wiser folks. To be taught exactly how to do what they do and how to hold out the same light for others. You can imagine my joy and excitement when I was accepted into the intern class of 2012-2013. To say I'm excited is a massive understatement.
Friday, June 15, 2012
Wednesday, June 13, 2012
If You Don't Know Your Amenities, You Don't Have Any
My siblings and I are in the process of planning our vacation. Usually, our parents choose a location and date of their timeshare. And we six (plus our families), try to make it there for some portion of the week and roll up ready to be fed, and ready to be taken care of.
Well, this year, it's different. We have chosen a beach house rental and a date. We have done this by semi-consensus and paid our way with the sweat of our own backs. I am planning to milk every drop of this vacation. How far is the beach? What's the weather? What is the surface of the tennis courts? It's wild. I have never cared this much about my enjoyment, about yielding a fun quotient from a vacation. We are planning meals and bedding, trying to pack light but well. I can see why people read up on destinations. Why they look for snacks that are not melty but not chips.
I know that there will be Foosball. Maybe DSM IV Charades. Probably some kind of Bible quiz. When not pocketing the mini-soaps, I'll probably be trying to show up early for Bingo in the Clubhouse, probably rooting too loudly for my brother, who will inevitably take part in the Ping Pong tournament. It will be immensely fun and our kids will be sufficiently horrified and embarrassed. However, they will remember hilariously, if not fondly, the way we vacationed as an extended family.
Well, this year, it's different. We have chosen a beach house rental and a date. We have done this by semi-consensus and paid our way with the sweat of our own backs. I am planning to milk every drop of this vacation. How far is the beach? What's the weather? What is the surface of the tennis courts? It's wild. I have never cared this much about my enjoyment, about yielding a fun quotient from a vacation. We are planning meals and bedding, trying to pack light but well. I can see why people read up on destinations. Why they look for snacks that are not melty but not chips.
I know that there will be Foosball. Maybe DSM IV Charades. Probably some kind of Bible quiz. When not pocketing the mini-soaps, I'll probably be trying to show up early for Bingo in the Clubhouse, probably rooting too loudly for my brother, who will inevitably take part in the Ping Pong tournament. It will be immensely fun and our kids will be sufficiently horrified and embarrassed. However, they will remember hilariously, if not fondly, the way we vacationed as an extended family.
Co-in Oppin
Have you ever had seasons so full of transition that you feel as if you are made of paper, thin, delicate and porous--feeling as though you could take flight with the slightest breeze? This is how I have been feeling this week-- We are graduating our nursery school. We have co-oped there since Manny was 3.
When I say "we," I really mean that. Co-oping "heavy" means that you are basically there once a week. You wear an apron, you cut fruit, you mix paint, you sweep up. What's more-- you help the children. You read them stories. You push them on swings. You hold them in your lap. You wipe their noses. You become part of the school in a very deep way. Children call you "Manny's Mom" or "Hey, Clara's Mom." You begin to respond to this because, it is, in fact, true.
We found the school because Geoff's favorite animation teacher sent her son here. She sent a photo of this beaming three year old on his birthday. Just over his shoulder, you could see twinkle lights wrapped around what looked like a loft. You could see the huge windows and warm wooded floors. And children's artwork hung from floor up to the ceiling, salon style. We were newlyweds when I saw that but I thought-- Ok, when the time comes, I will look for a cooperative nursery school just like that one.
After teaching at The Hollow Reed School in Boston, I learned how magical early-childhood learning is. It precedes all other formal schooling. It's before the big push for literacy. The madness of the conveyer-belt to Swarthmore. It's before kids get diagnosed with bunches of letters and dosed with meds. I learned how very young children draw their own conclusions. They have soulful processes, intricate ethics, and their skin is still vibrational and beautiful. They are all that they will become and you can see it. They have no shame or judgement yet so their connectivity is palpable. It's as the Quakers describe-- that of God in me reaching out for that of God in you.
But then Manny was that age, we moved back to PA. And even though I had worked with that age, kids were now threats to my kid. Specifically, I thought, boys were flesh-eating miscreants who thought nothing of clonking huge metal trucks over the heads of younger, unsuspecting boys like mine. A sensitive boy who felt badly for stray cats. Who saved pennies for the poor at age 3. Suddenly, I thought that my kid would be one of those turtles who WOULD NOT SURVIVE the night dash to safety. It was going to take a lot for me to love children collectively again, to re-locate those treasures I had found before. That's when we found our way to CNS.
It was there that I found that this parenting journey MUST be in community. I will never forget going into early labor while Phoenix's Dad was putting baby frogs into the aquarium and taught us about it. I sat in the corner on a pile of rug squares sweating and tired. Clara was born at 10:30 that night. Also, how many families cooked for us right after the birth! Also nursing Clara in front of the fire with Nora's Mom. Also the annual chick-hatching. How attached you get to those little eggs and then when you have to say goodbye to them when the farmer returns. Also listening to all the little kid-justifications for stick play or gun play. How many times have I been told they are "blasters" or "that I am firing protection messages?" Also, I have the recordings of Tom with the kids in the Ira Glass style, these babyish voices articulating the job chart and the Otter Song. Or the Thanksgiving Feast when the parents serve a sit-down meal to a huge table that sits only 9 inches off the ground. Us bending over the kids with scoops of cranberries, baby slices of turkey. All that work is so elemental. I can say that I have baked with so many kids. I have opened so many little lunch containers.
What did my kids get from the whole deal? Manny got to see how parents work on behalf of their kids. We do humble monk's work but see the virtue in it and pour so much love into it. Benicio got a ninja training field, kid-sized and all his own. I can still see him in his orange Rocket Dog jeans running from the boat over the blacktop, dipping down and mounting the suspension bridge. His whole first year, he thought the metal circle sculpture was a letter "B" for him. Clara, this is where she got adored. She was in the sling her first few months. However, the sling was worn not just by me, but other mother's while they cut apples in the kitchen. And later, Clara was the passed- around live doll. She was jostled and carried, even had a crib made for her out of the large-scale wood blocks. And Calliope-- I still have the meal-signup Lisa made when she was born. On handmade paper, she lettered, "SHE IS FINALLY HERE." After being born two weeks late, we all waited for the fourth Beatty kid. What she got from CNS was the most academically-rich and creatively-intensive experience of any of the others. She went from suspicious and shy in the sandbox to explorative at the rice table to inseparable from Una to arranging dress ups for kids in the younger class.
Tomorrow, Calliope will graduate. She will process down the aisle with two daisies. One for every year she has been a student here. I just want to be present for the transition, the quiet ending to such a long and rich chapter.
When I say "we," I really mean that. Co-oping "heavy" means that you are basically there once a week. You wear an apron, you cut fruit, you mix paint, you sweep up. What's more-- you help the children. You read them stories. You push them on swings. You hold them in your lap. You wipe their noses. You become part of the school in a very deep way. Children call you "Manny's Mom" or "Hey, Clara's Mom." You begin to respond to this because, it is, in fact, true.
We found the school because Geoff's favorite animation teacher sent her son here. She sent a photo of this beaming three year old on his birthday. Just over his shoulder, you could see twinkle lights wrapped around what looked like a loft. You could see the huge windows and warm wooded floors. And children's artwork hung from floor up to the ceiling, salon style. We were newlyweds when I saw that but I thought-- Ok, when the time comes, I will look for a cooperative nursery school just like that one.
After teaching at The Hollow Reed School in Boston, I learned how magical early-childhood learning is. It precedes all other formal schooling. It's before the big push for literacy. The madness of the conveyer-belt to Swarthmore. It's before kids get diagnosed with bunches of letters and dosed with meds. I learned how very young children draw their own conclusions. They have soulful processes, intricate ethics, and their skin is still vibrational and beautiful. They are all that they will become and you can see it. They have no shame or judgement yet so their connectivity is palpable. It's as the Quakers describe-- that of God in me reaching out for that of God in you.
But then Manny was that age, we moved back to PA. And even though I had worked with that age, kids were now threats to my kid. Specifically, I thought, boys were flesh-eating miscreants who thought nothing of clonking huge metal trucks over the heads of younger, unsuspecting boys like mine. A sensitive boy who felt badly for stray cats. Who saved pennies for the poor at age 3. Suddenly, I thought that my kid would be one of those turtles who WOULD NOT SURVIVE the night dash to safety. It was going to take a lot for me to love children collectively again, to re-locate those treasures I had found before. That's when we found our way to CNS.
It was there that I found that this parenting journey MUST be in community. I will never forget going into early labor while Phoenix's Dad was putting baby frogs into the aquarium and taught us about it. I sat in the corner on a pile of rug squares sweating and tired. Clara was born at 10:30 that night. Also, how many families cooked for us right after the birth! Also nursing Clara in front of the fire with Nora's Mom. Also the annual chick-hatching. How attached you get to those little eggs and then when you have to say goodbye to them when the farmer returns. Also listening to all the little kid-justifications for stick play or gun play. How many times have I been told they are "blasters" or "that I am firing protection messages?" Also, I have the recordings of Tom with the kids in the Ira Glass style, these babyish voices articulating the job chart and the Otter Song. Or the Thanksgiving Feast when the parents serve a sit-down meal to a huge table that sits only 9 inches off the ground. Us bending over the kids with scoops of cranberries, baby slices of turkey. All that work is so elemental. I can say that I have baked with so many kids. I have opened so many little lunch containers.
What did my kids get from the whole deal? Manny got to see how parents work on behalf of their kids. We do humble monk's work but see the virtue in it and pour so much love into it. Benicio got a ninja training field, kid-sized and all his own. I can still see him in his orange Rocket Dog jeans running from the boat over the blacktop, dipping down and mounting the suspension bridge. His whole first year, he thought the metal circle sculpture was a letter "B" for him. Clara, this is where she got adored. She was in the sling her first few months. However, the sling was worn not just by me, but other mother's while they cut apples in the kitchen. And later, Clara was the passed- around live doll. She was jostled and carried, even had a crib made for her out of the large-scale wood blocks. And Calliope-- I still have the meal-signup Lisa made when she was born. On handmade paper, she lettered, "SHE IS FINALLY HERE." After being born two weeks late, we all waited for the fourth Beatty kid. What she got from CNS was the most academically-rich and creatively-intensive experience of any of the others. She went from suspicious and shy in the sandbox to explorative at the rice table to inseparable from Una to arranging dress ups for kids in the younger class.
Tomorrow, Calliope will graduate. She will process down the aisle with two daisies. One for every year she has been a student here. I just want to be present for the transition, the quiet ending to such a long and rich chapter.
Sunday, June 10, 2012
best bios
Trying to master the art of writing the perfect bio. Don't like the ones where they say, "She makes her life in the Catskills with her husband, children and goats." Or when they say "She likes hiking outdoors, listening to music, and eating cupcakes with friends." Sometimes it seems to me to sound pretentious like, "I hope Santa can find us in Cabo!"
But I can't very well say, She loves to smell her children and can only read for twenty minutes at at time because of her severe ADD. Or she hates to repeat outfits and loves Step Aerobics. She has overdue fines on her library cards and has fantasies about doing Kung Fu on meter maids. Empty storefronts in small towns make her cry and she has a complex about not cooking Asian food for her family.
My favorite ones are quirky and yet substantial. They make me want to have a conversation with the person. I want to strike the right chord.
But I can't very well say, She loves to smell her children and can only read for twenty minutes at at time because of her severe ADD. Or she hates to repeat outfits and loves Step Aerobics. She has overdue fines on her library cards and has fantasies about doing Kung Fu on meter maids. Empty storefronts in small towns make her cry and she has a complex about not cooking Asian food for her family.
My favorite ones are quirky and yet substantial. They make me want to have a conversation with the person. I want to strike the right chord.
Grades & Feedback
Mother's Day Grades (as written by them):
Things Mom Is Good At:
1.school work at her school
2.cooking
3.swimming
Things Mom Needs to Work On:
1.yelling
2.being mad at us
3. less computer time
4.less phone time
--by Manny
Things that your good at:
1.cooking
2.playing with us
3.cleaning up
4.letting us do things
5. being a mother!
Things you need to work on:
1.your teasing
2.um, I think that's all
Things I need to work on:
1. saying "What"
2.teasing
3.being content
4.not listening
5.trying to get more than I have.
--by Benicio
Things your good at:
1.cooking
2.gardening
3.being a good MOMMY!
Things you need to work on:
1. tone of voice
That is all I can think of!
--by Clara
Things Mom's Good At
1.cooking
2.drawing
3.doing pushups
4.climbing
5.fighting Kung Fu
Things Mom needs to Work On:
2. making ice cream
--by Calliope
Things Mom Is Good At:
1.school work at her school
2.cooking
3.swimming
Things Mom Needs to Work On:
1.yelling
2.being mad at us
3. less computer time
4.less phone time
--by Manny
Things that your good at:
1.cooking
2.playing with us
3.cleaning up
4.letting us do things
5. being a mother!
Things you need to work on:
1.your teasing
2.um, I think that's all
Things I need to work on:
1. saying "What"
2.teasing
3.being content
4.not listening
5.trying to get more than I have.
--by Benicio
Things your good at:
1.cooking
2.gardening
3.being a good MOMMY!
Things you need to work on:
1. tone of voice
That is all I can think of!
--by Clara
Things Mom's Good At
1.cooking
2.drawing
3.doing pushups
4.climbing
5.fighting Kung Fu
Things Mom needs to Work On:
2. making ice cream
--by Calliope
Friday, June 01, 2012
Days Go By
At home, I am on a personal, one-on-one crusade against what my Mom would describe as "the house's bad breath." I have swept a dog's worth of fur off the floor and finally washed Bella Noche's bedding and then removed a dog's worth of fur from the lint dryer. Awesome, I know. I again culled our books for the sale at the Strawberry Festival. This is something that always takes longer than I plan. It's like meeting with old friends-- Taro Gomi, Patricia Polacco, Robert McCloskey.
At the gym-- I said goodbye to a sweet group of Mormon mamas. And already a new crop has shown up. Fresh-faced, all-American, in some stage of pregnancy. Pregnant, and yes, doing Cardio Step with an easy, delighted expression.
Everyone but me is still in school. Geoff in his summer class. He's watercoloring, drawing from nature, even screen printing. It sort of takes me back to U Arts in the late nineties. It used to be him sitting intently drawing a shirt draped over a chair, with Bjork in the background while his noodles simmered on his hot plate. Now, he is on the front porch, watercoloring the Crepe Myrtle branches in the front yard. He is accompanied by Benicio, who is certain he can get college credit for his watercolor interpretation even though he is nine. And also Calliope, who is mixing her paint with sidewalk chalk dust and grinding it into rocks. And then Manny on his scooter, sailing by quoting the Last Airbender.
The kids have one more full week. The boys actually have final exams. They are such good sports about them. It's still new for them-- having such structured and explicit expectations before them. We're all about love of learning not grades, yes? Clara and Calliope are savoring last days at each of their schools.
Goodbye May, hello June.
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