Smrt Lernins

SecularHomeschool.com has a great poll this week (they have a new one every week). This week’s question: If homeschooling became illegal in your state, what would you do?

They offer quite a few options for how to handle it: Enroll your kids in public school, ignore the law and homeschool “off grid,” fight the system, move. Of course, Patchfire and I had to discuss this right away and in some semblance of depth. What would we do?

It would be a tricky predicament for me — with Officer Daddyman being a police officer, I usually make a point of not doing anything downright illegal. However, I’m also not at all willing to enroll my kids in the public school system around here. Not now; possibly not ever. Captain Science is too far ahead in some areas (language arts, math) and at weird points in others (like history — we haven’t done GA history, we haven’t gotten past Elizabethan era yet). I also don’t have the money to put the kids in private school, or at least not a quality private school (even then, I’m not sure I’d want to).

My first thought would be to find some online school to “enroll” the kids in. Anything that will pass the basic requirements of “school” but let me continue to homeschool as we see fit. Patchfire said that getting accreditation through GAC isn’t even all that hard, so we’d likely pursue that. Honestly, such a law wouldn’t last long in Georgia, so in reality, we’d panic for all of two weeks and then it would be a non-issue when (as Patchfire say) the first suit gets brought against the state.

Would I be willing to buck the law to homeschool my kids, though? At this point, yes. We’re off the grid in other areas and I’m willing to defy convention and even the law for the benefit of my children.

How about you?

To all the bigots,
To all the bashers of any[one/thing] non Xtian,
To all the misogynists and the homophobes,
To all the ones who equate being gay with being a sexual predator,
To all the ones who subtly or not-so-subtly blame women for their assault because of how they are dressed,
Or because of how they act,
Or how they don’t act,
Or because they had already had sex once anyway so what does it matter,
Or because they had the misfortune to be born with dirty-dirty vaginas and uteri instead of Paul-approved penises,
To the ones who throw around the word “heretic” as though it were the 16th century,
To the ones who throw around the word “heretic” without realizing how incredibly damn ironic it is for a Calvinist Protestant to call someone a heretic,
To the ones who call anyone who believes in a different flavor of Christianity a sinner,
To the ones who shame their daughters for being anything other than their primitive and controlling version of “feminine,”
To the ones who shame their sons for being anything other than their primitive and controlling version of “masculine,”
To the ones who claim to “love the sinner, but hate the sin,” when you obviously hate both,
To all of you who would rather keep your children ignorant than risk them learning something that’s outside your teensy little bubble…

We will win.

We “heathens” and “heretics” and “sinners” will win.
We will win because we have less shame about our bodies.
We will win because we aren’t afraid to accept new ideas.
We will win because we can distinguish between evidence-based science and something written by men, translated by men, voted on for inclusion by men, preached by men, and enforced by men.
We will win because we don’t think someone or something made us inherently wrong or bad.
We will win because we will not teach our children to hate who they are.
We will win because we will not let our children tell other children to hate who they are.
We will win because we will accept your children into our families with love and tolerance when you have driven them away with shame and hellfire.
We will win because we won’t accept victims being blamed for the crimes against them,
Because we don’t equate “purity” with character,
Because we don’t equate individuality with sin,
Because we don’t equate intelligence with heresy,
Because we don’t equate pettiness with godliness.
Because we don’t equate shaming with modesty.

One day those hateful seeds you sow
In your churches,
In your communities,
In your children,
Will grow into ugly plants,
And when that is all you will have to reap,
You’re going to have a lean, lean winter.

Enjoy your harvest. You’ve earned it.

Love,

The Heretic The Heathen The Sinner Smrt Mama

Now just tell me this isn’t the cutest thing:

Of course, Rhubarb was there, too:

What could be more adorable than four teensy girls (ranging from two today to three next month) waiting oh-so-patiently for those delicious cupcakes?

I had to wrestle her new plastic shovel (a gift from Patchfire and PC) out of her hand in order for this picture to be taken, but here’s the mama and her birthday girl.

The Feminist Breeder is doing a wonderful series of posts called Letter to My Daughter (incidentally, also the title of the Maya Angelou book I read this month for my FBAM), where mothers write letters to their daughters as adults. What would you like to say to your daughter? What would you like her to know about you or your feelings for her when she is an adult? If you have something to say to your own daughter that you would like to share, you can find out how to participate here. You might have to “like” The Feminist Breeder to read the note.

I think it’s a wonderful idea. I’m looking forward to reading all the posts from all different kinds of mothers to their all different kinds of daughters. I have a letter my mother wrote to me when I was a girl, maybe late elementary school or early middle school, that I treasure. I think it’s fantastic that The Feminist Breeder is encouraging other mothers to write letters like that for their daughters and to share them!

And yes, the very first post in the series is from yours truly.

I’ll be the first to say that if you’re getting most of your parenting advice/information from Parenting magazine, you probably need to trot on down to the library for a while and find some actual books on topics of child development, breastfeeding, and maintaining a healthy marriage. Parenting is not interested in you knowing about those things. I think they hit a new low with their article 20 things moms should never feel guilty about, however.

First, they lure you in with #1-4, which all seem pretty reasonable. Then suddenly you’re being given horrible breastfeeding advice (the kind of advice that will tank your supply and/or screw with your baby’s ability to nurse correctly; if you want to formula feed, do it, but if you want to breastfeeding, don’t screw it up by supplementing and giving early bottles) and being encouraged to lie to your friends to make yourself look good, lie to your husband to spend money behind his back, take joy in the [perceived] inferiority of others’ children, and make yourself sexually appealing for random men (but not wanting to have sex with your partner, to whom you’re also lying about money, is totally ok). Oh, and leave your kid to sit in a diaper full of poop, because there’s nothing wrong with that, right?

Parenting magazine doesn’t want you to feel guilty, but I do (well, sorta — see below). I think a healthy dose of guilt is far superior to an unhealthy dose of lies, damn lies, and leaving your kid sitting in poop. If you’re wondering why this is a Secular Thursday post, it’s because I’d like to point out that guilt isn’t solely the purview of religion, just like morality and ethics are not solely the purview of religion. Being non-religious (or even atheist) doesn’t mean you exist without moral guideposts or aren’t still eaten up with the things you do wrong (or “wrong”). Guilt IS what helps guide our moral compass. Feel guilty, but feel guilty about stuff that will actually help you, not stuff that will hinder you.

A list of 20 is kind of overkill, though, so we’ll just go with 6, because this is a blog and nobody wants to have to turn the page. With that in mind, I present to you:

1. Undermining yourself before you ever give yourself a chance to succeed. Whether it’s breastfeeding, homeschooling, going back to school, or learning a new craft, skill, or hobby, don’t set yourself up to fail. Don’t give yourself that “just in case it’s not going perfectly, I can quit” out; make yourself stick to it long enough to get past the rocky parts and see if it really is the right thing for your (and/or your kids). Look for one or two of the best resources on whatever it is you’re doing (don’t clutter yourself up with too much advice from too many disparate sources) and line up one or two support people who you know will be your cheerleader. This isn’t advice to feel guilty about not getting it right or not being 100% successful or changing your mind about what’s right for you; things don’t always work out as planned. The real failure is in not having the faith in yourself to give yourself the kind of fair chance you’d give anyone else.

2. Short-changing your accomplishments and only talking about your chid(ren)’s. One of the worst things women do to themselves isn’t to play up their kids’ milestones and accomplishments, but to downplay their own. That your kid sleeps for an hour longer that someone else’s kid is only an accomplishment in the short term, and it’s the kid’s accomplishment, not yours. Don’t make your child’s mini-milestones the only things you ever brag about. You are awesome; talk about it. If your friends don’t ever want to hear that kind of stuff, they’re not really your friends…or maybe they’re too afraid to talk about their own accomplishments and need a little support to find what’s great about themselves! Encourage them to embrace their own awesomeness, too — it’s so much more pleasant and less petty than playdate one-ups-man-ship.

3. Lying to your spouse/partner about your needs. Not all partners are equal when it comes to supporting their partners’ needs, but if you don’t even tell them your needs, how do you expect them to rise to support them? I know we want our partners to be psychic; they aren’t. You shouldn’t be sneaking off to get a manicure or a massage — not because you shouldn’t get those things, but because sneaking is beneath you and it’s beneath your partner. You’re an adult, for Pete’s sake! Tell your partner what you need, or you two really aren’t “partners;” you’re just two people who hang out together. If, after talking to your partner, s/he isn’t supportive of your needs, that’s a completely different issue, but when you lie to him/her about it, you aren’t even giving him/her the chance to step up.

4. Hiding how much money you spend or where you spend it. See above. Grown-ups don’t have to sneak around. Not only are you potentially wrecking your relationship with your partner by being dishonest (which sows a whole lot of doubt-seeds), you’re also potentially wrecking your family budget by hiding how money is spent. Not every family works off a budget, but having a carefully planned budget makes it a whole lot easier to plan for the hair cut, massage, pedicure, drink w/ the girls, etc. Don’t sneak; clearly express your needs and wants. Again, if at that point, your partner is unsupportive, it’s a different issue, but there’s nothing to be gained by sneaking around.

5. Treating your kid like a purse or a watch. Your child isn’t an accessory that you put on when s/he matches your outfit. Your child is a person. We don’t make other people sit in a pile of their own poop, ok? That’s just not cool. Parenting is often inconvenient, but try not to treat your children as though they were an inconvenience. They aren’t. They’re people, your people, your delightful wonderful tiny people who adore you and to whom you are the Master/Mistress of the Universe. Give yourself permission to show up a little late for appointments, just go ahead and accept you might have to watch your favorite show on Tivo or Hulu later, don’t leave the oven on, and stop to attend to your child’s needs when they arise, rather than when it’s most convenient for you.

6. Not giving yourself permission to be human. Humans are inherently flawed creatures. We screw up royally at almost every turn. Out best laid plans gang aft agley all over the damn place. We also waste so much time beating ourselves up over mistakes we’ve made that are over and done with. We wallow in our failures. Next time you screw up big time, instead of drowning in guilt over how you didn’t do it right, try to assess what can be learned from the screw-up and then say, “I’m human and humans screw up sometimes. What’s next?” When you hold yourself to impossible standards, you make yourself miserable and you aren’t a treat for those around you. I don’t mean to not set high standards. I’m not saying to excuse yourself for slack-assing through life. I’m not saying break wind at a state dinner (you know how I feel about manners). Just acknowledge you aren’t always going to get it perfectly right every single time. Accept it. Release that need to always be perceived as perfect. This is an area where I constantly struggle; I still feel guilty about a host of mistakes (ranging from insignificantly tiny to immeasurably huge) I’ve made over my life. I’m working hard to ditch the guilt over messing things up. Join me!

*And by “feel guilty about,” I mean, “give some consideration to,” because who the hell am I to dictate your guilt or lack thereof? I’m just a blogger, y’all, and Parenting is just a magazine. We aren’t the guideposts for your life. Listen to your instincts, make an effort to educate yourself from reputable sources, and if what I say helps you in any way, more power to both of us. <3 Peace out!

Do you ever feel completely, insufferably boring?

After the high from my smashing new haircut wore off, I found myself wandering around the house aimlessly, feeling sort of dejected and down and bored. Seriously, like “let’s dig our own graves” kind of bored. Wallowing around on the couch feeling pitiful kind of bored.

Suddenly, it hit me. I wasn’t actually bored. I was just incredibly, exceptionally boring.

The family joke is that I cut off all my hair when I’m about to break up with someone. My hairdresser knew I was getting divorced before my first husband did (thought he’s Charlie Sheen crazy, so it probably would have taken him by surprise no matter what). I think my hair gets the whack when I want to change something in my life. I don’t actually want to break up with Officer Daddyman, I’m sure you’ll be relieved to know, but the haircut is definitely related to my feeling of being boring. Deeply, broadly boring.

I realized that my hip, exciting, very-different-from-my-regular new haircut was the most interesting thing about me, at least from my perspective (I’m sure there’s a certain voyeuristic charm to watching my life from the outside, but y’all don’t have to live it).

Look at my day. My breakfast is almost always one of two things (oatmeal or yogurt), my lunch is variations on a theme (something on a salad), my dinner is something from my repertoire of about a dozen dishes. Coffee with breakfast, coffee again at 3. Homeschooling is challenging and even exciting in the big picture, but the day to day can get tedious, especially come this time of year. All day, every day, is filled with children and the million little things they require of me. Then it’s bedtime for the kids. Then I take a bath, have a glass of wine, and read a book. This could be any given day of the week. You can’t even tell if it’s a Monday or a Wednesday when you look at it. I love my family. I love my children. I love homeschooling and being a SAHM. I just feel like I, as an individual, am sort of boring myself to death with myself.

The sad thing is, it isn’t that the day is boring. It’s that I am boring. This is the routine that I have created. This is my handiwork, my boring, boring handiwork. Left to their own devices, my children would probably each come up with a completely different routine, all of which would likely conflict with each other, but which would at least be more colorful. Maybe those “let your kids do whatever they want” people have it right. Maybe I should give consensual living a chance simply because kids with fuzzy green teeth who stayed up until 4am might be different.

I worry that this comes across as a plea for validation. It isn’t. I get that I come across as at least minimally amusing on my blog. I’m a writer and if I cannot entertain you, then I obviously wasted my three years of graduate school (during which, I might add, I did not maintain a 4.0 GPA whilst pregnant and working like some other mom bloggers; I only managed a 3.8 while doing all those things) , since my blog is currently the only place I do any consistent writing (again, because I am boring, and cannot muster up enough creativity to really tackle my own creative projects). I’m not worried that I am perceived as boring; I’m worried that I am boring, in ways that y’all will never see, because I mask the truth of my boringness with my ability to tell a good story and poke fun at my own failings as a mother, homeschooler, and person.

Maybe it’s like body dysmorphia. Maybe I have a skewed perception of my personality, just like I’m sure I have a somewhat skewed perception of what my butt looks like. Maybe my really great and interesting personality and life are hiding underneath one of the cheeks of my ginormous backside. I guess I’m not the only one who feels this way. Do any of you sometimes feel hopelessly, helplessly boring, too? on’t try to validate me. You can commiserate with me, however, and let me know if I am like the cheese and stand alone (in my boring boringness) or if this is just part and parcel of being a homeschooler or a mom or just a person.

Are you boring, too?

If there is one thing I am tired of hearing about, it’s the damn “mommy wars.”

No, I’m not linking to any articles about the “mommy wars,” because honestly. Honestly. I am over it.

When I say I don’t like a particular parenting style or choice, a particular blogger, a particular philosophy, here are some things you should know: It’s not a vast conspiracy. It’s not a huge cultural movement. It’s not a battle with sides, pitting Mom Type A against Mom Types B. Sometimes it just means I think you’re a bitch.

I don’t believe I have to support every choice other mothers make in order to uplift motherhood.
I don’t believe I have to only say positive things or I’m perpetuating some fictional war of or on motherhood.
I don’t believe I have to like someone just because we have made similar choices on certain issues.
I don’t believe I have to agree with you just because you are a mother who blogs.
I don’t believe I have to agree with you just because you are a mother.
I don’t believe that “playing nice” or “maintaining peace” are goals I need to strive towards as a woman, a mother, or a blogger.

Sometimes I don’t like another mother/blogger’s attitude. Sometimes I don’t like her politics. Sometimes I don’t like her wishy-washy inability to take a real stance or state a real opinion. Sometimes I don’t like her attitudes about women, femininity, or feminism. Sometimes I think to myself, “I’m sure glad she’s raising her kids in Chicago/the Pacific Northwest/Los Whateversmos/Bratsghanistan so my kids won’t ever, ever, ever accidentally encounter hers.” Sometimes I want to shake things up. Sometimes, other moms do stupid things and then blog about it, or say stupid things, or have uninformed or offensive opinions, or just plain say something I don’t like or that doesn’t make me think highly of them. I know I do all of that stuff, and I don’t expect smoke blown up my ass when I do it, just because doing otherwise might oh-dear-god-in-heaven perpetuate the “mommy wars.” If you disagree with me, I don’t perceive it as part of a conspiracy, plot, or opposing side. I consider it a disagreement FROM you, WITH me. Just us two. No armies. No war.

I don’t know who started this “mommy war” concept, but I bet the bank that their goal wasn’t to uplift women. You want to know what is really doing a disservice to mothers? Simplifying everything they say and do down to sides in a “mommy war.” When you do that, you’re saying that they don’t have their own opinions and experiences, that they haven’t done any research or seen any data, that they can’t make rational decisions and then talk about them. You are saying they can’t be anything other than a representative of some mass groupthink. You’re saying women must all play nice and never speak up, and that any attempt to do otherwise is just part of some petty little playground battle between 2-dimensional mom archetypes. You’re saying, “Be a good girl, sit down and shut up, because you don’t want to continue the mommy wars, do you? Don’t say, ‘Maybe that’s a bad choice!’ Don’t say, ‘What the hell are you thinking?’ Don’t say, ‘Have you done any research on that?’ Don’t say, ‘What you are saying/doing is offensive or harmful or just downright dumb!’ The only way to support women is to always be pleasant and positive! You are obligated to agree with all women in all things and always tell them what they are doing is right for their family!” [I'm pretty sure that whole thing there should be said in Effie Trinket's voice, which in my head sounds just like Kristen Chenoweth's]

Let me tell you what: I am not Homeschool Mom, formally representing the viewpoints of all Homeschool Moms in opposition to Not Homeschool Moms. I am not Attachment Parenting Mom, formally representing the viewpoints of all Attachment Parenting Moms in opposition to Not AP Moms. I’m not Activism Mom (of whatever flavor), formally representing the viewpoints of all Activist Moms in opposition to Moms Who Don’t Do It That Way. I am Smrt Mama. My opinions comes from a lifetime of experiences, research, and human interaction. I sometimes disagree with the opinions and methodology of people supposedly on “my side” of various issues.

I am not a side in a war. Neither are you. Here’s my deal to you: I’ll call you a bitch on your own merits and you call me a bitch on mine, and we leave the term “mommy wars” out of it forever and always.

On my Facebook today, I made this declaration, “I don’t get the whole ‘I don’t force my children to say please/thank you’ nonsense. It’s not oppression, people. It’s manners. When your kids deal w/ me, they better damn well say please, thank you, and call me ma’am.”

I won’t say I was surprised at the mix of responses or which responses came from which people on my FB. I think I know my friends reasonably well.

I continue, however, to be baffled by the growing phenomenon of viewing manners as some form of oppression. It seems to have become a new parenting trend, one that seems slightly more common in the attachment parenting world. I think it goes hand-in-hand with that whole “consensual living” stuff and, to a certain extent, unschooling. The mantra seems to be “If you don’t want to do it, we won’t make you.” The attitude is that it’s never ok to make your kids to do things they don’t want to do, that all learning can happen through modeling (not that all of these adults also model splendid manners), and that expecting polite phrases is either harmfully oppressive or teaching them to be fakes/liars. It would be laughable if I didn’t have to interact with these kids in public.

When a child is in my house, in my care, in my class (such as my writing classes), or addressing me directly, I expect please, thank you, you’re welcome, and yes/no ma’am*. I expect my own children to behave in such a way no matter where they are. I love my children. I value their lives above my own. I value children’ human rights as equal to or exceeding my own. However, they are not my social equals and they are certainly not my social betters. I am the provider and caretaker, the teacher and meal cooker and wound healer. I wipe the asses and the noses (though not with the same tissue). I will be spoken to with respect. I also treat my children respectfully, say please/thank you/etc., but I expect them to show an additional degree of deference and respect to their elders. Period.

I’m not sitting around prompting kids with, “Now, what’s the magic word?” It’s more than that. Still, if my child says, “I want more potatoes,” I’m not giving them more potatoes. I’m saying, “Is there a more polite way to ask for potatoes?” or “Can you ask for potatoes in a way that might make someone want to serve you some?” Daddyman and I say please to each other, too, and I don’t hand him the potatoes without a “please,” either. If one of my kids hits the other, I’m not just saying, “Say you’re sorry.” First I ask if they understand how hitting makes the other person feel, then I tell them the appropriate response is an apology, maybe a hug if the victim of the hit wants it. If the apology doesn’t sound sincere, we do it again, because sometimes just modeling isn’t enough; coaching on the proper way to do it may be required. A good apology involves eye contact, a polite and contrite tone, and clear speech, no half-hearted mumbling. If they refuse, they can excuse themselves from decent company until they’re ready to act like they belong in it.

Plenty of people disagree with me. I’m Smrt Mama the Oppressor, with my pushy and demanding insistence that my kids be polite. Not just “act in a polite way,” which so many parents seem sure their children can do without adequately polite language, but actually use the niceties that are a part of good manners.

So yeah, I make them say “please” and “thank you.”

Expecting your children to say “thank you” when they receive a gift, even if they don’t particularly want or like the gift, isn’t somehow compromising your integrity or theirs. It’s giving your children the language to politely express gratitude when gratitude isn’t naturally forthcoming. Prompting them to say “thank you” in those circumstances where the gratitude isn’t naturally springing to mind isn’t doing them a disservice, but reminding them that they have a social obligation to politely express appreciation that a gift (which is never an obligation) was purchased for them. By insisting on the thank you until it’s a more natural response, you are not only instilling manners, but reminding them that they aren’t entitled to receive gifts and encouraging them to keep others’ feelings in mind, to boot. Why is this a bad thing? What would you rather your children do? Say nothing at all as they cast the unwanted gift aside? If I were the gift-giver, I would not only view those children as impolite and ungrateful, but wouldn’t think very highly of the parents. In fact, if I gave them another gift at all, it would likely be How to Behave and Why.

Using manners isn’t “being insincere.” Manners are a social contract. They provide a framework for civil interaction. They not only show respect to each other, but they provide a mutual social language from which to work. They provide a method for coming to an accord, protect feelings and dignity, offer an exit strategy for a lapse in behavior. And yes, they teach important life skills. You won’t get far in the South without saying “ma’am” and “sir” (and even if you do, nobody thinks much of you). You won’t get far in business without the ability to apologize or act grateful when you don’t necessarily mean it, so yeah, the ability to apologize in a way that appears sincere is pretty useful. Honestly, acting like you’re sorry for your behavior can often be a good stepping stone towards genuinely feeling sorry.

And please, if you don’t like this post, kindly excuse yourself. Be like Billy…behave yourself!

*ETA: It’s pointed out to me that not all of you are lucky enough to live in the South, where “ma’am” and “sir” are the standard. I’m terribly sorry. Have you considered moving? Or perhaps starting a new trend of politeness where you live?

Babies are weird.

I just asked Babypie, “What’s your name, little girl?”

Babypie said, “Duck.”

I said, “But I thought it was [Babypie]?”

She said, “It’s actually Duck.”*

I again said, “But you’re [Babypie]!”

She looked at me like she was thinking, oh poor, simply mother, patted her breastbone in an exaggerated fashion and said, slowly, “ME. DUCK.”

A couple minutes later, I said, “I need a picture of a girl named Duck,” which brought Babypie running in yelling, “Me! Me Duck! Me Duck!”

Here is an incredibly attractive picture of my girl called Duck:

*I ran this through Daddyman. “Did she just say, ‘It’s actually Duck’?” He agreed that she had.

Tank has never been happy with his middle name. When he was very little, he said his middle name was Bruce (Officer Daddyman’s middle name, after his father). It’s not Bruce at all; it’s actually Ryals, my grandmother’s maiden name.

A few months ago, Tank decided that his middle name needed to change. I’m perfectly willing to go along with a temporary name change and even told him he could change it to whatever he felt was the right name for him as soon as he turned 18; I’d support him completely. Given the complete freedom to name himself anything he wanted, he spent a few minutes thinking hard and mulling some ideas over aloud, before his eyes lit on Captain Science’s t-shirt (black with a white guitar with bat wings). “My new middle name is Bat-guitar!”

We discussed the appropriate spelling. He can’t read yet, but he could weigh in on whether it was one word, two words, or hyphenated (he chose the hyphen). I agreed to call him Tank Bat-guitar McLernins as long as that’s what he wanted to be called. I even changed it on his Facebook page, because, yes, my kids have Facebook. They enjoy Pet Society. Shyuddup.

Today, Tank announced that he no longer wanted to be Bat-guitar. Instead, he wanted his middle name to be Charm Bracelet. A few minutes later, he decided it should just be Charm. A few minutes after that, he decided it should be Charmander.

Charmander, I choose you!

A little while after that, he asked if I knew who Mace Windu is, because Mace Windu is a great name. “I think my middle name will be Mace Windu, only without the Mace. So just Windu.” When Captain Science urge him to keep Bat-guitar, tank said, “I’ll go back to Bat-guitar next summer.”

He’s stuck with Windu all day, so there you have it, folks: Tank Windu McLernins.

I still prefer Bat-guitar, myself, but it’s not my name, after all.