A Hilda van Stockum newsletter

I recently received a note from John Tepper Marlin, the son of Hilda van Stockum, about a new, free, e-newsletter that he'll be putting together and maintaining.

The first issue is out, and lets us know that Bethlehem books is releasing a 2007 Commemorative Edition of A Day on Skates. We don't have this book, but you can bet I know what one of Ramona's birthday presents will be.

You can sign up to receive the newsletter at the website of Hilda van Stockum.

Related posts, on Mrs. van Stockum:

The Winged Watchman

The Borrowed House

Eternal Rest Grant Unto Her, O Lord

Love2Learn's Book Giveaway this week

Lots of great stuff!

Visit Love2Learn for
the current giveaway,
which Alicia tells us features:

"Little Acts of Grace by Rosemarie Gortler (2 copies - donated by Adoremus Books)

Friendly Defenders by Matt Pinto and Katherine Andes (2 copies - donated by Adoremus Books)
The Man Who Was Thursday by G.K. Chesterton (2 copies - donated by Adoremus Books)

And last, but certainly not least, we have a special Cottage Care Package from our friends at Cottage Blessings. One lucky winner will receive the following set of four beautiful books: The Cottage at Bantry Bay by Hilda Van Stockum, Francie on the Run by Hilda Van Stockum, Pegeen by Hilda Van Stockum, Maiden and Mother: Prayers, Hymns, Songs and Devotions to Honour the Blessed Virgin Mary."

Eternal rest grant unto her, O Lord

And may perpetual light shine upon her.
May the souls of the faithfully departed through the mercy of God rest in peace.

Amen.

With thanks to Ana Braga-Henebry for letting us know of the passing of writer and artist, Hilda van Stockum, on All Saints Day.

See details here, at Mrs. van Stockum's website.

We have just recently become big van Stockum fans (after reading The Borrowed House and currently, The Winged Watchman) and just a few weeks ago, I visited her website. We were happy to see that she was still alive, and tried to send a note, but all the links at that time were faulty. The most recent update to the site seemed to have been when she was about 93. I had hoped to track down an address for some snail mail.

The links are now working, and both email and snail mail may be sent to her family.

[Updated: Visit the Guest Book on Mrs. Van Stockum's site to leave a message for her family. Also, see this post about Mrs. Van Stockum's book, The Borrowed House, and the beautiful conversation it inspired.]

King Oberon's Forest: A Book Club Post

Ramona and I just read King Oberon's Forest for her book club. It's Hilda van Stockum, so I was pretty sure we would love it and we did.

It's quite different (a fairy tale!) from her usual fare but we found it sweetly delightful in an old-fashioned, but still van Stockum-y realistic way. We love the variety of characters in a book like this -- the grumpy ones, the realism of souls who are imperfect but manage to grow.

I don't want to give too much away, but it's the story of three isolated, self-absorbed dwarves who live in King Oberon's Forest and are changed by the people and events (and fairies) in their lives. Full of humor and warmth, with lovely illustrations by van Stockum's daughter, Brigid Marlin.

For book club discussions we've sometimes had just a snack, other times a lunch (with my personal favorite being our Prairie Thief luncheon.) This one was a full lunch, with dishes inspired by the book:

Mac and cheese
Pumpkin bread
Apples and dip
Nuts
Peanut butter and honey sandwiches
Cucumbers and carrots
Popcorn (which also provided the popcorn necklace stringing activity)
Cream puffs
Apple juice

Yum.

Next up in book club: The Twenty-One Balloons by William Pene du Bois and down the road we'll read The Castle in the Attic by Elizabeth Winthrop. And thanks again to everyone who threw in suggestions (here at the blog and on Facebook) for this year. The TBR list is endless, and I love that. :)

If you haven't had a chance to ...

... do go visit Hilda van Stockum's website and sign the Guest Book.

I received a lovely, gracious note (in the comments of a past post) from Mrs. van Stockum's son, John Tepper Marlin. As he notes, we should all be grateful to Bethlehem Books for keeping her work alive.

When I think of the joy and beauty we would have missed had these books gone out of print, I'm saddened. Publishing may be too often driven by dollars these days, but our family is most grateful for those publishers who seek out quality work, then work hard to keep it alive and accessible to all of us.

And we are grateful to the many writers and artists who enrich our homeschooling lives beyond measure.

It's the New Bumpoofle-Dee-Dee

I'm reading Hilda van Stockum's The Winged Watchman to Ramona as part of our World War II studies this year. Tonight, we were reading at the kitchen table while Anne and Betsy were doing the dinner dishes. At this point in the story, we're learning more about Hildebrand, a young man, a philosophy student, who is secretly staying with the Verhagen family. Anne and Betsy were listening in.

I had just read a paragraph in which Mr. Verhagen and Hildebrand are having a conversation, and as the two men are agreeing on a point, we learn that

At first he (Father) had thought that such a bookish person could not learn anything so practical (as helping with the windmill), but Hildebrand proved to be quite dexterous and Father was beginning to rely on him.

"Oh," I said, "he's bookish and handy. I wonder if he cooks, too?"

"Hildebrand might be the perfect man!" Betsy said, but I wasn't really listening. I had already moved on to read the next line:

"I know," Father sighed. 

The girls burst out laughing at my/Father's response and when I realized how it sounded I laughed, too.

"And thus," I said, "the grown-up girls' version of Bumpoofle-Dee-Dee is born!"

What's Bumpoofle-Dee-Dee? One of our most enduring family jokes.

It came up when I read The Winged Watchman to Anne and Betsy eight years ago. Here's the post from October, 2006:

~~~~~

While reading The Winged Watchman aloud the other day, Ramona suddenly stopped me and said, "What's a bumpoofle-dee-dee?"

I said, "A what? Where did you hear that, honey?"

"You! You just read it a minute ago."

"I did?"

"Yes. You said Bumpoofle-dee-dee."

Thoroughly confused, I skimmed back over what I'd just read and found this phrase: Some people think electricity is foolproof and easy.

"Oh! Honey, no -- " I corrected, "I said, foolproof and easy. Not bumpoofle-dee-dee."

Anne and Betsy were besides themselves with giggles.

But, oh, it got worse at dinner time. The girls were recounting the misunderstanding to Atticus. Anne said, "Daddy, can I tell you about Bumpoofle-dee-dee?"

"Huh?" said Atticus, understandably foggy after a day of teaching high schoolers. "One poopy baby?"

If I thought the girls had a good giggle at breakfast, it was nothing compared to this laughfest. Anne spit applesauce across the table onto Betsy, and Ramona latched onto the phrase, which she could repeat endlessly, sending her sisters into fits and guffaws.

When everyone finally quieted down, I told the origin of the story to Atticus, but it seemed to have lost its punch. We do, however, have a new family word.

Perhaps we need to add elocution to our curriculum?

~~~~~

And this is Reason #4,987,236 that I love read-alouds!

How to Raise Readers (Or Convince Yourself That's What You Did)

1. Buy that Jemima Puddleduck board book when your first child is just a couple of months old. Convince yourself that your brilliant baby actually indicated to you (yes, right there in Barnes and Noble! She did!) that she would love to own that book.

2. Read Jemima Puddleduck daily. Sigh over the illustrations. Snuggle your baby.

3. Read My Name is Big Bird (and all the other -- many, many, many -- My Name is... books) over and over and over again. Because you love your child, because you love the way she is smitten with Big Bird, and because you love reading. But mostly because you love your child. Resist the urge to say something inappropriate and sarcastic when she asks for this book nineteen times in a row before lights out.

(Don't sigh over the illustrations as you did with Jemima Puddleduck. But do sigh over the delicious cuddle-and-read time. It's sighable, and it goes too fast.) 

4. Cynthia Rylant, Jim Arnosky, Barbara Cooney, Allen Say, Josephine Nobisso, Tomie  de Paola, Barbara Helen Berger, Robert McCloskey, picture books about saints, Laura Numeroff,  poetry everywhere, Eric Carle, Mike Venezia....

Stacked in the living room. Strewn in the bedrooms. Piled in the kitchen. Rummaged through at the book store....

Ramona, at the bookstore when she was four years old.

5. Read aloud at breakfast. Read aloud at lunch. Talk about books at dinner.

6. Don't worry about when your child starts reading. An early reader will not necessarily become a better reader than a "late" bloomer. What's important is to keep the love of books alive, whether that happens through independent reading, read alouds, audio books,  or, even better, an ongoing combination of all those things.

7. Frances Hodgson Burnett, Louisa May Alcott, Laura Ingalls Wilder, Melissa Wiley, Beverly Cleary, C.S. Lewis, Maud Hart Lovelace, L.M. Montgomery, E.B. White, Eleanor Estes, Edward Eager, J.K. Rowling, American Girl books, Jean Craighead George, Peg Kehret, Rick Riordan, Brian Jacques, Hilda van Stockum, Jean Fritz, Jeanne Birdsall, Andrew Clements ....

  

8.  Go to the library. Make it a regular habit. Show your children how to use everything: the card catalog, the helpfulness of the librarians, the amazing fun of the self-checkout, the way the stacks are so perfectly constructed and suited to plopping down on the floor to peruse a book together until you ultimately decide, "Yes! Let's check this one out, too!" Teach them to bring their backpacks with them. You'll never check out just one.

9. Don't be the mom in the library who can be overheard saying things such as, "No! Put that back! You read that one last week -- get something new!" or, "Stop it! That one's too easy for you! Get something more challenging, why don'tcha?" Please don't say these things. There's nothing wrong with rereading a book, whether it's a classic or brain candy. Can you ever gaze too many times on a Caravaggio? Have you sworn off popcorn since you already enjoyed it once? Do you ever say, "Stop it! You've looked at that priceless painting before! Move on!" or, "Isn't that popcorn too easy to eat? Why don't you tackle something with some culinary layers?" Nope. Don't do it.

10. Remember this very important rule: no one is ever too old for picture books. Picture books are an art form. The best of them are beautiful and complex while appearing to be simple and simply inviting. Cultivate consumption of them. It's a great habit to acquire.

11. Jane Austen, Harper Lee, Madeleine L'Engle, Ray Bradbury, Flannery O'Connor, Suzanne Collins, Mark Twain, Charles Dickens, poetry everywhere, F. Scott Fitzgerald, Willa Cather, C.S. Lewis, George MacDonald, Shakespeare. Stack them, strew them, pile them, rummage through them. Read them, share them, talk about them.

12. Don't turn books into idols, but do teach your children that books -- the written word, human communication, hearts and souls and minds poured out and preserved on paper -- are vital. They are our story, our history, our future. Books help us sift through who we are, why we are, what we are, and where we want to go.

13. If you do all these things, you will quite possibly raise readers. We did these things, and we have three daughters who love books.

On the other hand, it's quite possible that all the things we did had nothing to do with raising readers. It might just be in the genes. Atticus and I may have ink in our veins, so it's conceivable that no matter what we did, even if we'd spent their lives saying things like, "Put that book down and come watch Gilligan's Island!", they would have wound up loving books. I know people who love books who haven't necessarily raised "readers." It happens, no matter how much some people strew and read and stack.

The truth is, we can't predict what our children will become or mold them into what we want them to be. They are unique souls; they aren't here to be grand reflections of what book lovers we are, or of anything that we are. But, that's another blog post.

Even if we can't guarantee that book-loving steps will lead to book-loving people, one thing we can be certain of is this: Jemima Puddleduck, generally speaking, leads to good things.

Ramona's Summer Reading List, Part One

Ten-year-old reader (nearly 11 ... eek!) looking for ideas, so I'm starting a list for her. Here's the first installment, in no particular order.

She's not three anymore. (Sniff, sniff.) 

Where the Mountain Meets the Moon, Grace Lin

Because of Winn Dixie, Kate de Camillo

Number the Stars, Lois Lowry

The Winged Watchman, Hilda van Stockum

Magic by the Lake
Knight's Castle
The Time Garden, Edward Eager

Island of the Blue Dolphins, Scott O’Dell

The Little White Horse, Elizabeth Goudge

Anne of Avonlea, L.M. Montgomery

The Story of Doctor Dolittle, Hugh Lofting

Love That Dog, Sharon Creech

Justin Morgan Had a Horse, Marguerite Henry

From the Mixed-up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler, E.L. Konigsburg

Rules, Cynthia Lord

Beorn the Proud, Madeleine A. Polland

The Girl Who Circumnavigated Fairyland in a Ship of Her Own Making, Catherynne M. Valente

The Witch of Blackbird Pond, Elizabeth George Speare

Lilly's Crossing, Patricia Reilly Giff

Sun Slower Sun Faster, Meriol Trevor

The Phantom Tollbooth, Norton Juster

The Cricket in Times Square, George Selden

The Winged Watchman

This is such a great book.

Anne-with-an-e and Betsy were reluctant to begin this book, because, "It's about boys!" I reminded them that some of our favorite people are boys: Atticus, of course (and they'll someday love fictional Atticus as much as they love our Atticus). Matthew Cuthbert. Dickon. Colin (once Mary Lennox works her magic.) Peter Pevensie (and Edmund -- later, of course.) Lew Tucker. Pa Ingalls. Wilbur the pig.

"You have no problem with boys," I assured them, and we started the book.

"I like this book," Betsy proclaimed, three pages into it.

I liked it, too. It has everything one would expect from Hilda van Stockum: serious subject matter, balanced with humor; an unflinching examination of right and wrong; real children who say and do real things; excitement, suspense, danger and surprises; heartwrenching (but not graphic) realism depicting the losses and grief families suffered in World War II; real friendship; faith. And, it has something else every child loves: puppies.

It also offers this lovely little tribute to mothers:

Father stretched out his big hand and put it over Mother's.

"Boys," he said, "I want you to look at this wonderful, brave little mother of yours. Do you know who suffered the most during the war? The mothers. Do you know who worked the hardest? The mothers. And do you know who will get the least praise? The mothers. You haven't any idea, and you never will have, what it cost your mother to keep going, never daunted, never giving up, taking each new blow in her stride and keeping you all happy under the worst possible conditions. Come on, boys, let's give her a cheer. To Mother! Hip, hip, hurrah!"

I wanted to cheer, too.

The Winged Watchman is a beautiful book and has quickly become a treasured favorite of my girls.

Even if it is about boys.

[Next up: A review of Snow Treasure, which we just finished. After that: Escape from Warsaw. We just started this one, and already Betsy is begging for the next read-aloud session every time I put the book down. Such a good sign ....]

Bits and Pieces of Our Days

Whither has October fled?  It's gone missing and I'm left wondering if one of my favorite months met all her obligations before she took off for a year's sabbatical.

At least one obligation was clearly fulfilled -- October brought us, as it has for twenty-one marvel-filled years now, the birthday of Anne-with-an-e.

I'd never before bought a daughter a margarita for her birthday, but I can no longer make that claim. And she likes my favorite red wine, too. Yes, I am a good homeschooler indeed. I know how to teach all the important stuff.

~~~~~

Ramona and I are still on World War II. So far we've read The Winged Watchman by Hilda van Stockum, Lois Lowry's Number the Stars, The Little Riders by Margaretha Shemin, and Ian Serraillier's Escape from Warsaw (which I wish still bore its original title, The Silver Sword.)

We read Snow Treasure, which I usually include it in the WWII bundle of books, last year because it was a book club pick. I'll leave it up to her whether or not she wants to reread it this year.

I also have a stack of picture books -- we've read Always Remember Me: How One Family Survived World War II, and in the next week will pick up The Bracelet, So Far from the Sea, and
The Yellow Star: The Legend of King Christian X of Denmark. 

Lots of good geography stuff happening as we read these books, too.

~~~~~

What am I reading these days? The epic and wonderful Kristin Lavransdatter. Granted, I am only one book into the trilogy (I almost typed "three-book trilogy" ... more coffee, anyone?) but I have already dubbed it Wonderful and More.

What am I watching on the laptop these days, while I work out? Gilmore Girls. It is wonderful in a different way, and strangely connected to Kristin.

When Hitler Stole Pink Rabbit

Recently, I posted a question about this book on the 4Real Learning forum. We were between read-alouds in our WWII unit, waiting for Hilda Van Stockum's The Winged Watchman to arrive. I wondered if I should pick up "Pink Rabbit" from our library in the interim.

I got mixed reviews, so decided to give it a try.

We're only a few pages into it, but so far we're really enjoying it. My girls can completely identify with Anna, who has this reaction to a recent purchase:

She unpacked her new crayons and took them all out of their box. There was a good pink and quite a good orange, but the blues were the best. There were three different shades, all beautifully bright, and a purple as well.

I can see why the boys, mentioned on the 4 Real forum thread, didn't find this to be action-packed. But my budding little writers find Anna to be just the kind of girl they'd like to spend some time with:

Lately she had been producing a number of illustrated poems which had been much admired both at home and at school. There had been one about a fire, one about an earthquake and one about a man who died in dreadful agonies after being cursed by a tramp. Why not try her hand at a shipwreck? All sorts of words rhymed with sea and there was "save" to rhyme with "wave" and she could use the three new blue crayons for the illustration. She found some paper and began.

Soon she was so absorbed that she did not notice the early winter dusk creeping into the room ....

And in this exchange, Anna's father, a writer, offers her some sage advice that my made my girls light up with its truth:

Anna said, "Papa, do you really like the poem?"

Papa said he did.

"You don't think it should be more cheerful?"

"Well," said Papa, "a shipwreck is not really a thing you can be very cheerful about."

"My teacher Fraulein Schmidt thinks I should write about more cheerful subjects like the spring and the flowers."

"And do you want to write about the spring and the flowers?"

"No," said Anna sadly. "Right now all I seem to be able to do is disasters."

Papa gave a little sideways smile and said perhaps she was in tune with the times.

"Do you think then," asked Anna anxiously, "that disasters are all right to write about?" Papa became serious at once.

"Of course!" he said. "If you want to write about disasters, that's what you must do. It's no use trying to write what other people want. The only way to write anything good is to try to please yourself."

And, the only way to find out whether or not you like a book is to read it yourself. So, we'll push on with this one, and I'll keep you posted.



And, by the way, that copy of The Winged Watchman arrived, and it's a very cool old 1962 edition. Don't you love old books?

Summer Reading

The other day I asked about summer reading lists, and said I'd be back soon with mine. Here's  bit of what I hope to read this summer (although when I'm writing a book, I don't always get a lot of pleasure reading done, and my actual To-Be-Read stack is ridiculously large.)


On my list:

Shirt of Flame by Heather King
Strong Fathers, Strong Daughters by Meg Meeker
Diary of a Country Priest by Georges Bernanos
Quiet, The Power of Introverts In a World That Can't Stop Talking by Susan Cain
I Capture the Castle by Dodie Smith
The End of the Affair by Graham Greene
The Blue Castle by L.M. Montgomery

Atticus plans to read*:

Watergate, by Thomas Mallon
The Fourteen Sisters of Emilio Montez O'Brien by Oscar Hijuelos
The End of the Affair by Graham Greene
The Book of J by Harold Bloom and David Rosenberg
Nothing Like the Sun (a reread by Anthony Burgess)
Henry Adams and the Making of America by Garry Wills
A Godly Hero, The Life of William Jennings Bryan, by Michael Kazin
The Memoirs of General Grant, by the guy buried in Grant's tomb
And whatever intriguing British police procedurals cross his path (along the lines of the Resnick novels by John Harvey)

This morning I'll be on Relevant Radio at 8 a.m. central time, talking books and summer reading. Some of my recommendations will come from our all-time favorite reads:

Picture Books:

Miss Rumphius by Barbara Cooney
Only Opal by Barbara Cooney
Jim Arnosky's books
Josephine Nobisso's The Weight of a Mass, Take It To The Queen and Francis Woke Up Early
All things Magic School Bus
Most things Tomie de Paola
All things Mr. Putter and Tabby by Cynthia Rylant
How My Parents Learned to Eat by Ina R. Friedman and Allen Say
Tea With Milk by Allen Say
How To Make an Apple Pie and See the World by Marjorie Priceman

For Ramona's age (9-12)**:

Frindle by Andrew Clements
All things Andrew Clements
All things Encyclopedia Brown by Donald Sobol
All things Little House
All things Betsy-Tacy
All things Hilda van Stockum
All things E.B. White
All things Frances Hodgson Burnett
The Borrowers by Mary Norton
The Penderwicks series by Jeanne Birdsall
Because of Winn-Dixie by Kate DiCamillo

And, I'll be back later with favorites for teens!

*Atticus says: "Some of these contain material that some might find offensive, so beware."

** Varying levels of maturity -- be sure to check them out for yourself before handing them to your child, especially a very sensitive child.

Ramona's Summer Reading List, Part Two

Last month, I started a list of reading ideas for Ramona. Thanks to my lovely readers and their comments, here are a few more ideas:

The Saturdays, Elizabeth Enright
The Four-Story Mistake (Enright)
All-of-a-Kind Family, Sydney Taylor
Bantry Bay Series, Hilda Van Stockum
Linnets and Valerians, Elizabeth Goudge
Starry River of the Sky, Grace Lin

And a few more I've added to our list based on my own browsing or suggestions from friends:

Baby Island, Carol Ryrie Brink
Owls in the Family, Farley Mowat
Glory Be, Augusta Scattergood
The Wheel on the School, Meindert DeJong
Dancing Shoes, Noel Streatfeild

You can also check out the comments on Part One for more suggestions -- I didn't post them here if they were books we've already read or if I'm going to wait a year or two to read them with Ramona.

Bits and Pieces of Our Days: The Recent-Books-With-Ramona Edition

Ramona and I finished our read-aloud of Anne of Avonlea. We read it only over breakfast on the days when Anne and Betsy could join us, so it took awhile, but it was worth it to once again share a book about "that Anne girl" with all of my girls.  Such fun, and made for a delightful start to our day.

***

Also recently finished a read-aloud of The Castle in the Attic by Elizabeth Winthrop. 

Fun, adventure, and interesting ethical issues to discuss. 

***

Read-aloud in progress: The Cottage at Bantry Bay. It's Hilda van Stockum ... need I say more?

***

Twenty and Ten,  by Claire Huchet Bishop. The last, I think, of the WWII books for this year.

***

And, one that we can't wait to get our hands on 

(we'll be watching for the UPS man tomorrow!): 

The new Penderwicks! Cue the squees! We're all giddy! 

Thinking About Having Children, Part 2: Selfishness and Sacrifice

Part I is here.

People on both sides of this issue tend to think of those on the other side as selfish.

When I didn't desire children, I knew that some people saw me as selfish. I remember sitting around the workplace and listening to a coworker talk about her neighbor. "They don't even have any kids," she snorted. "How selfish is that?" I was stunned that the simple state of being childless could brand a woman. And ironically, although some of my reasons for wanting to avoid children were selfish, I had just as many reasons that I thought of as merciful to my would-be children. I was convinced I'd be a horrible parent.

Now that I'm on the flip side, a different group sees my actions as selfish.

Having been both childless by choice, and a mom of three, I can say this: motherhood is hard.  And when I'm doing it right, it demands that I be anything but selfish.

Motherhood is a string of sacrifices. They start in pregnancy because -- let me tell you -- being pregnant was fun for me only during months four and five. That's when the 24/7 morning sickness ended, the progesterone treatments could halt, I finally looked pregnant instead of fat, and I wasn't yet so big that I waddled and was uncomfortable all the time.  (I'm 5' 2" and one of my babies was almost nine pounds. This is a working definition of "off balance.")

Then there's labor (which my body does not perform well) and delivery and the realization that I'm actually responsible for another human being.  In a piece I wrote several years ago (Are You New? for Babies Today), I mentioned this:

During labor, I'd developed a fever. Immediately after her birth, my baby was whisked away for testing and antibiotics because she, too, had a fever. In those first few hours I was in and out of lucidity and all I could think of was sleep. I remember asking myself, when they brought my daughter in for a nursing, "Why do they keep bringing me this baby?!" Only to realize, "Oh, yeah. I'm the mother."  The reality and magnitude of my responsibility suddenly overwhelmed me. I'm the mother.

I was the mom.

It was terrifying.

All the other cliches of new babydom, including excruciatingly sleepless nights, crying (oh, yeah -- the baby cried a lot, too) and beginning my worry about my children's futures before they'd sampled solid food kicked in.

I was recently reading Hilda van Stockum's Canadian Summer with the girls. In one scene, Grannie is describing how, when she was a little girl, she gave her beloved doll to orphans:

"And my mother warned me seriously that I would never have another like it and probably would miss it but I wanted to give it anyway."

"I guess you didn't realize," said Joan.

"Yes, I did realize and I knew I should be sorry and I was sorry. It was my first sacrifice," said Grannie, smiling gently into the fire ...

... "But I've remembered that doll all my life. In a way it is the only one I still have, for the others are forgotten. Which shows that it is what you give away that you truly possess."

It is what you give away that you truly possess.

When I had children, I gave myself away.

And in doing that, I came to genuinely possess who and what I am.

Not in the sense I used to imagine, which went something like this: "If I have children, I will become one of those desperate women without a life. I'll live through and for the kids and someday when they move out I won't even know who I am."

No. That's not it at all. My husband and family (because, incidentally, I once felt the same way about marriage) have become part of who I am, and I am a part of them, too. We weave in and out of each other's lives in ways that are surprising, unpredictable, hard and sublime.

And the sacrifices that motherhood requires of me have not resulted in a net loss but in immeasurable gains that are, to be sure, challenging and demanding but gains that are gifts.

As I wrote a couple of years ago in another post:

I could not see, as C.S. Lewis said in The Problem of Pain:

"We are not merely imperfect creatures who must be improved: we are... rebels who must lay down their arms."

I didn't want to lay down my arms. But, clearly, at some point, my arms slipped or were wrenched from me (a bit of each, at various stages) because here I am. I surrendered, first of all, to a "mere Christianity," and later to the Catholic Church. And in laying down my arms and waving those white flags, in asking God to let me die so that I might rise again, in accepting that I might become a new creation in Him, I have found a peace the depth of which I couldn't have conceived in my atheist days.

In the midst of that peace is the knowledge that while I did "lose" myself I have paradoxically also become a truer version of myself. In surrendering everything (from my time, my marriage, my fertility, my writing, and my cherished sleep, oh, sleep) to God, He has shown me that He will lead me, wisely and well, in all things and that I will inch closer to becoming the person He intends me to be. He's proven to me that He knows better than my best-laid plans.

I really believe that most people on both "sides" of the issue of children are trying their best to figure it out and do the right thing. The world we live in makes it pretty complicated and confusing. For me, the answers became simple (not easy and not simple-minded, but simple to understand) in the context of my faith.

Children are both sacrifice and gift. Not everyone is called to have them -- hey, some of my best friends are celibate -- but when a gift is given, it is worth the sacrifice it takes to accept it.

The Borrowed House

Our current WWII read-aloud is Hilda Van Stockum's The Borrowed House which is a young adult novel, probably for ages 13-14 and up. I'm editing a bit as I read, and I'm careful about what I read in front of Ramona, because the subject matter is a bit more raw than the other books we've read thus far.

The protagonist, Janna, is a twelve year old German girl, living in Amsterdam with her parents, in a house that has been "requisitioned" for them. Because Janna has been a member of the Hitler Youth, her ideas and opinions are difficult for my girls to hear. They're appalled, of course, but it's a slightly new experience for them -- our literary heroines are usually so much more likable from the start.

But, this book has been the fuel for some amazing discussions. The other day, as we talked a bit about the Holocaust, Betsy said, "But, Mom ... how could God let this happen? He's so good, and He could have stopped it."

Wow.

How does one explain the problem of evil to a child?

I began by telling her that she had asked an eternal question, a philosopher's question, the best question. I told her that people have lost their faith over that question, when the answers to it seemed inadequate, or wrong, or elusive.

And so we went back in time, back to the story of Adam and Eve, and to what God gave them.

"A choice!" she said.

"Yes, a choice. He allowed them to choose good or bad, right or wrong, didn't He?"

"Yes."

"Why do you think He did that?"

"Hmmm ... I don't know. Wouldn't it be nicer if He had made them obey?"

"Well, yes, in some ways, it would sure be nicer. [Editor Mommy's aside: we'll deal with felix culpa later ....] But let's think about what kind of a relationship comes out of making someone do something."

From there, we put on a little demonstration about what it would be like if the girls were mere puppets that I could control ... if I could make their mouths move and, like a ventriloquist, throw my voice so that I could hear them say, "I love you, Mommy dear," whenever I felt like it. They lapsed into fits of giggles as Betsy played the puppet, and mouthed the words. But the demonstration made its point: little puppets or robots aren't capable of real love. For anyone's love to mean anything, it has to be freely given. Had God made us little robots, our love for Him would mean nothing. (They'll read a similar, if more eloquent, explanation someday, in C.S. Lewis's Mere Christianity ....) I summed it up by saying that there's a world of difference between making a puppet say "I love you," and the feeling I get when one of my daughters brings me a picture she's drawn for me, something she's created purely out of love for me. That kind of "I love you" is real, and means everything to me, because she has chosen to do it.

We went on to talk about how the freedom God gave human beings -- our free will -- allows us to make choices about everything, including love. And where the possibility of true love exists, the possibility of utterly rejecting love co-exists. And where the possibility of rejecting love exists, there is the potential for evil.

Some people will choose evil.

It's not an easy answer. It's not a pat answer, not even a very satisfying answer most of the time, especially when one is contemplating great suffering. But it's the only answer that makes sense.

And as for stopping it? I think that's what God counts on us to do.

And then there are days like this ....

After blogging (and blogging and blogging ....) about how insanely wonderful and educational our read-aloud time is because it's packed with interesting, insightful, enlightening conversation, this is what was said at the breakfast table this morning, as we were diving into Hilda van Stockum's The Borrowed House:

Me: And, so, do you see how evil can be tied up in an attractive package?

Betsy: Mom, if we're just going to talk instead of read, can I go back to bed?

So, what could I say? I laughed. I laughed a lot. Then I got back to reading.

Revisiting The Plan

When I first posted about The Plan I noted that catalog-browsing and curriculum-perusing can be a pleasant little hobby, but I don't have to actually follow up on all that browsing with whopping purchases of stuff I won't use. The Plan included ...

Sorting through our books:

Check.

Giving away or selling what we don't need:

Check.
(Stop looking at me like that. Just because I haven't given away or sold anything doesn't mean I failed in My Plan. It just means that we needed everything. Or, that we might need it. Maybe. One of these days.)

Reorganizing the books:

Check. This has been the most fun (funnest? Mostest funnest? Mostus Funnus?) part of it. My books are lovingly, obsessively grouped by type (or as close to type as a rebel who doesn't like "subjects" can get.) I have two new bookshelves in the dining room that hold some of the most frequently used stuff, as well as some things just for Ramona (more on that later.)

Using only materials we already own:

Check.

Ummm, well, sort of "check." "Check" with a caveat.

In July, when I updated you on how The Plan was going I was happy to say that I had not yet purchased anything new.

I can no longer say that. (Stop looking at me like that. I may have broken down and bought some stuff but I was incredibly frugal. Really.)

I am still able to say that we don't need to buy anything for the following areas because we own enough curriculum to cover them: Language Arts, Math, Science, Health.

(Huzzahs, and other celebratory sounds inserted here. Chocolate may be added.)

I did buy some books for Faith studies and History (please don't scoff at the quantitative "some"):


*Number the Stars, by Lois Lowry
*The Borrowed House, by Hilda van Stockum
*Edith Stein (Encounter the Saints series)
*Maximilian Kolbe (Encounter the Saints)
*Young Life of John Paul II, by Claire Jordan Mohan
*Vision Books on saints:
Our Lady of Fatima
St. Dominic
St. Francis and St. Clare
St. Joan of Arc
St. Elizabeth of Hungary
St. Thomas Aquinas
*King Arthur, Tales of the Round Table, by Andrew Lang
*Big John's Secret, by Eleanor M. Jewett
*Twelve Bright Trumpets, by Margaret Leighton
*The Holy Twins, by Tomie de Paola
Stories of the Saints, Volume II by Elaine Woodfield
Catechism of Church History, by Fr. Robert Fox
Catechism Catcher Kit (like a "cootie catcher" but with Catechism facts), from Emmanual Books
A Catholic How-to-Draw, by Andrea Helen Smith

As you can see, there's a lot of overlap between "History" and "Faith Studies." (It's that "you-can't-separate-life-into-subjects" thing again.) I plan to tie the biographies of saints into our history reading, and all of it will tie very nicely into the Geography club we plan to do with my pal Linda (of American Girl Club fame.)

Oh ... and, I guess I should confess that as long as I was ordering a couple of things from Dover Publications, I picked up a few more extremely frugal books from their Evergreen classics line.

Final report on the plan?

Mission accomplished.

I didn't buy unnecessary stuff (well ... okay, no one really needs a Catechism Cootie Catcher, but it's such a fun idea ....) So, maybe the mission wasn't fully accomplished, but I have a streamlined dining room, organized books, lots of good literature for us to read and share, I have our faith studies prioritized at the top of the list.

It's close enough to "accomplished" for me.

More huzzahs, more celebratory sounds, and -- of course -- bring on the chocolate. Go ahead. Make it Godiva. It's not necessary, but it's such a fun idea.

Tags: homeschooling,
curriculum, home education,
planning

Bits and Pieces of Our Days

* Yesterday we finished reading The Mitchells: Five for Victory.  We did it as a read-aloud and it was perfect over breakfast -- went very well with both cereal and waffles. And coffee.  We love Hilda Van Stockum, but somehow the older girls and I had never gotten around to the Mitchell series.  What an oversight! We all adored this book. The characters are very real and funny, and the book is quite touching, too.

Here is Alicia's Love2Learn review, which nicely covers a topic that might be upsetting for young or very sensitive children (I did need to reassure Ramona, in a few instances,  that all would end well.)

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* Why are ads for tattoos turning up in the sidebar of my Gmail?

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* We'll be dissecting critters today. My house will smell like a biology lab. Maybe we should eat out tonight.

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*Back to the Mitchells ... one of the funniest and most endearing subplots has to do with pets. I won't tell you what happens, as I don't want to spoil it, but everything about the family's animals is perfectly executed.

And on the subject of pets, we've had plenty of them -- we currently have a cat (I call him Mr. Putter here, though why I gave the cat a blog name is beyond me), and a hamster named Blanche. (We thought Blanche was a girl -- the kids named her after a Regina Doman character. Turns out Blanche is a boy, but we still call him her.) We've had other hamsters: Ralpie, Fluffy I and Fluffy II. And hermit crabs (can't remember if we named them -- I just never got extremely attached -- can you imagine? Though I did really appreciate the fact that they never woke me up in the middle of the night.) We also had betta fish that were named Evelyn and Dorothy despite the fact that they were males. Anne-with-an-e and Betsy were just 8 and 6 years old, and "Evelyn" and "Dorothy" were the dreamiest names they could imagine for anyone, including fish.

And now?

We're going to get a dog!  Cheer with me, people!