But, for another fun take on it: ditto to Jennifer, better known as FishMama, right there on her own blog:

Teaching Boys To Cook on Life as Mom

Spicy & Eldest, in a pose that reminds me of Medieval Madonnas. They’re a lot bigger now.

This picture still melts my heart, and I bet it always will.

Right, so: the concept of modesty is one that gets talked about a great deal in faith circles, and in the circles of plain old Basic Common Sense as well, but for this bit of writing, I’d like to focus on the faith-based conceptualization of modesty. Basic Common Sense ideals are perfectly lovely, and I don’t think the faith-based and sense-based circles lack an overlap, but I’ll be concentrating on the faith side of this particular Venn diagram.

When I think about the concept of modesty, I think in three broad categories:

1: Body modesty

2: Spiritual modesty

3: Temporal modesty

Body Modesty

Now, this is not “covering up with clothes.” Rather, body modesty is our natural shyness about our bodies, which develops as a child develops toward adulthood, and recognizes that yes, boys are different from girls, and yes, bodies have parts that work differently, and those parts change with time, and all that business. This natural body modesty ought, I feel, be recognized and respected with a healthy attitude in the household. Body modesty is a protective instinct given by God.

In practical application, though siblings may share sleeping spaces when a house is small, they can be taught to respect the personal privacy and body modesty of others. This might take the form of wearing non-revealing, comfortable nightclothes, using robes or comfortable lounging clothes instead of sitting around starkers, and respecting the option to dress or undress in the bathroom, in privacy.

However, healthy attitudes also include frank and accurate discussions of human anatomy and biology, which for me includes unashamed breastfeeding, toddlers playing in the back yard without clothing, and giving body parts their proper names from infancy, without snickering. (I would like to smack whomever named some of those parts. Wouldn’t sensible names like “Bob” and “Sue” have been a good option?) Knowledge and accuracy are not immodest.

Body modesty, for me, does not have much to do with clothing choices. More on that in a bit.

I feel it’s important to avoid eroding natural and appropriate body modesty in children, and particularly in young people. I am actively against mixed-gender, non-family discussions on human anatomy, development, and sexuality (such as in school classrooms, or even in church settings.) The natural modesty that exists in the pre-teen and teen years with regards to the opposite sex can play a vital role in sexual chastity. Preserve their natural modesty, but satisfy their natural curiosity with accurate, unashamed information. Informed innocence is a good goal.

Spiritual Modesty

I’d actually rather handle spiritual modesty first or last, but body modesty develops first among the children of men, and there are things I want to link together at the end, which come more easily after temporal modesty. Ah, the trials of the modern blogging essayist, who also doesn’t want to let these things marinate any longer…

Spiritual modesty could also be defined as meekness and humility. Our ability to focus outwardly, to give glory to God instead of craving the praise of men for ourselves, is an important modesty. A lack of overweening pride, lack of desire to be seen and recognized for doing God’s will, plays heavily in this modesty.

We learn it by giving (and teaching) quiet service, expressing gratitude for our blessings, and even learning how to accept a compliment on a skill, talent, or job well-done. “Thank you, I’m glad it was enjoyable, helpful, etc” doesn’t claim personal glory, nor is it conspicuous, as a “Well, I’m just doing God’s work” might be–that’s not a testimony, that’s boasting of ourselves with mock-humility.

George Albert Smith put one aspect of spiritual modesty (seeking God’s side of things) this way:

We choose carefuly the atmosphere that we breathe, that we may live in health. But sometimes, in our carelessness, we place ourselves in subjection to immoral influences that destroy our resistance of evil, and we are led to do things we ought not to do and would not do if we are under the influence of the Lord. If we would only be humble, if we would only be prayerful, if we would only live in such a way that each hour of our lives we could truthfully say, “Father in heaven, I am willing and anxious to do what thou wouldst have me do,” our lives every day would be enriched as we go through this earth experience.

Spiritual modesty changes everything.

In learning spiritual modesty, we can be on the lookout to avoid priestcraft, whereby we or others use our church membership is a pointed marketing tool to profit off the faith and trust of believers. That doesn’t mean we can’t make a living providing a service or product believers want; it does mean we don’t calculate or layer gospel-importance over worldly concerns, and that we refrain from notoriety or fame or any renown that would put ourselves and our accomplishments above what God intends for us, or who He wants us to be, and how He wants us to serve. We leave God in authority, and do not seek to usurp it for ourselves.

Temporal Modesty

This might also be described in terms of stewardship, but temporal modesty encompasses so many aspects that a singular definition isn’t possible.

Temporal modesty can be the willingness to live with contentment and thanksgiving for the abundant blessings of God, no matter our circumstances. This may largely include the financial sense and determination to carry out excellent stewardship of whatever resources God has given us, and seeking to use those resources to bless other as God inspires. One of my favorite financial advice people is Dave Ramsey, who has a catch phrase of “Live like no one else, so you can give like no one else.” He encourages people, no matter their current resources, to carefully and prayerfully share those resources with others.

Temporal modesty may mean choosing to live in a small, carefully-appointed house, or getting through school part time at nights while working days, to avoid debt. It may mean choosing to delay home ownership or worldly advancement in order to pursue a service opportunity in our youth. It may mean checking out of the vicious cycle of “keeping up with the Jones’ family”, and choosing to streamline life to maximize family time, not career time. It may mean turning down worthwhile lessons or sports or hobbies because participation would stretch our resources too thin.

Temporal modesty means we do not seek to live in Zion, with a summer house in Babylon. We do not need to adapt every worldly notion to some “church” version. We can be in the world without being of the world. We need not be concerned that our definition of success may be radically different from the world’s definition. Nephi taught:

And others will he (Satan) pacify, and lull them away into carnal security, that they will say: All is well in Zion; yea, Zion prospereth, all is well—and thus the devil cheateth their souls, and leadeth them away carefully down to hell.

“Modest” clothing actually fits into temporal modesty for me, versus in with body modesty. Modesty and appropriateness in our outward appearance and comportment are not about shame or any need to “hide”. Rather, these things are an outward acknowledgement of an inward confidence: the confidence that we have intrinsic worth as souls, with no need to seek praise or notice for only our physical characteristics or style choices. We need not wear sacks, either. We can clothe ourselves in tasteful, functional, and yes, beautiful clothing that does not call undue attention to just our physical forms.

We can attract with our whole countenance, and Christ in us, rather than entice with our exposed flesh.

Clothing modesty is dressing with respect and consideration of the circumstances and events of our lives. It means choosing fit versus size labels, having items altered so they may be worn comfortably and without gaping, re-arranging, or exposure, taking care of upkeep and mending to look tidy and clean. It means we do not don items that demean others, show hateful or mocking attitudes, offend natural modesty, or seek to shock.

If we are the Body of Christ in any given situation, is our outward appearance and demeanor drawing others to Him, or distracting?

This aspect of temporal modesty may also involve making the choice to avoid devoting too many of our resources to our outward appearance, owning or wearing “costly apparel”, or incurring expenses beyond the physical value of the item. In every book of scripture, we find at least one societal warning against “fine-twined linen” and “costly apparel” (each signifying haughtiness, selfishness, and pride among the believers, the exact opposite of the spiritual and temporal modesty we could otherwise be inculcating.) That is not to say we should never shop outside of a thrift store! Rather, we must decide for ourselves, after prayerful consideration, if some portion of our physical resources can be diverted and used to further God’s work, aid the poor, support bringing Christ to others, care for widows and orphans, or relieve those who suffer.

Quoting George Albert Smith again (I love this man for his plain preaching!):

This people have been advised to conserve their energies and their means. We have been taught by those whom the Lord has raised up to instruct us that we should live within our income, that we should not follow the fashions of the world and expend as rapidly and even more rapidly than we can earn the money that comes into our hands, to take care of ourselves and our families. I fear that that Latter-day Saints, in many cases, are blinded by their own vanity, by their desire to be what the world is; and we have been told in such plain language by our Heavenly Father that we cannot live as the world lives and enjoy His Spirit.

In all these forms of modesty, we need to seek personal revelation after hearing wise counsel in the scriptures and from modern prophets, and watch for God’s hand and inspiration in how we, and those in our direct stewardship (such as our children), can best live according to our understanding of these principles of modesty.

Notably, however, we are not asked to be in charge of how others fulfill their understanding of modesty. When we seek to codify specific rules regarding “what modesty looks like” or modesty “checklists” for sweeping generalizations, we run the risk of developing some “vain traditions of men,” similar to the codified, coercive orthopraxy of the Pharisees of Jesus’ day. We can (and should) define for ourselves what we understand. We can share visuals, we can share thoughts, we can share encouragement. But we should not be using our own understanding of the ideals of Godly modesty as a bludgeon against our siblings. As Joseph Smith so famously said, “We teach them correct principles, and they govern themselves.”

George Albert Smith taught and lived a personal creed that demonstrated compassion and a Christ-like understanding for others still working on developing their testimonies, including the testimony of modesty in all its forms. We cannot use our own understanding of modesty to judge, condemn, or exclude others who may be at a different spot in their own spiritual journey. Another few bits of preaching of which I’m particularly fond:

I would not seek to force people to live up to my ideals, but rather love them into doing the thing that is right.

There has never been a time, in my judgement, when kindness was needed more than now. These are the days when people’s souls are being tried, and when their hearts are being wrung. These are the days when many are facing hunger and distress… I believe our Heavenly Father is giving us our opportunity for development… We will discover now whether the love the Savior said should be in our hearts is among us.

There are those who will make mistakes. There are those among us today that have gone astray, but they are the children of our Lord and He loves them.

In my own life, I’ve seen the positive effects of this open, compassionate creed. Years ago, a young man was traveling through our area, and had grown quite desperate, both temporally and spiritually. On Sunday, he woke up and determined that today was God’s last chance. He would walk up the highway on the way out of town, and stop in at whatever church he came to. If God wanted him, there would be a sign. If God didn’t want him, then he had decided to go past town to the river, and end his life.

Blessedly, God directs the feet of the despairing, and the hands of those who love as He loves.

The man climbed the church steps, and stood outside the glass door.

Just inside stood one of the “Mothers” of the church, a woman who had finished raising her own children, and was now joyfully engaged in loving everyone. She saw the man standing outside, and went to open the door to him. She invited him to come in and join them… services were going to start soon, and wouldn’t he like to come in?

He glanced down at himself, dusty, ragged, and compared himself to the smiling, cozy woman in front of him. “I’m not dressed for it,” he said, and moved to leave.

“Nonsense,” she said. “There’s room in my pew, and you’re welcome. Come and rest by me.”

And he did.

Her open compassion went beyond just opening the door. She and her husband became his devoted “church parents”. They provided a safe place to sleep, helped him find work, then helped him build his own business; saw to it he had invitations to be social, to enjoy a meal, to belong. They loved him. They didn’t draw back from his stained and tattered state. Instead, they rejoiced that a prodigal was returning, and a child was seeking to know his Heavenly Parent in some small way. It was years before I realized he was not, in fact, one of their children. They did not judge him by his existing state; they saw in him divine potential, and loved him first, and loved him toward Christ.

That’s what all this modesty talk brings us: to the capacity to love and protect and draw and serve, not for any outward praise or glory, but because we are loved by God, and He would like us to love His other children.

It’s not about the hemline. It’s about Him.

However, I also love well-ordered, peaceful days, and with our four offspring all in learning years, and the addition of our Spare Teen (a young lady who lives around the corner, and comes down to learn alongside us most days), means that a bit of routine and some pre-planning really does make the days go more smoothly, and more fully. I love the days that are replete with “stuff.”

I’m trying to be surreptitious with myself here (hard to do, as I’m… well, me, and thus aware of my nefarious plotting): laying out our learning goals for the coming season helps me get the notes together for myself. It’ll also give a snapshot of just one set of ideas to blend the learning needs of two (very different) teenage girls, one young teen boy, and two (very different) little girls.We tend to tackle topics as a group, and don’t always gear things to the littlest learners. Instead, we talk at “teen/adult” levels for the most part, and then adapt for younger learners as needed. One of the biggest adaptations we do with the Little Girls is to incorporate a great many “living books” into the mix. We hit the library, and check out fiction and non-fiction related to our studies, and also look for hands-on crafts and activities that illustrate or celebrate the topics. Very little of our learning looks like “school,” generally.

Science: Geology (Winter, Spring, Summer)
We’ll explore the structure of the earth, land mass formation, tectonics, volcanoes, rivers & waterways (including erosion, silt deposits, and the like), Rocky Mountain geology, Idaho geology and gemology. We’ll attend the annual gem and mineral show in mid-April, try to identify rocks in our yard and neighborhood, look at geologic formations in our area and on trips, make relief maps with paper mache clay and paint, grow crystals, and watch documentaries about geology topics. We won’t be using textbooks. We will be using good old Dewey Decimal to make the most of our library, and also using the local gemological society as a grand resource.

As with most sciences, it’s fairly easy to blend ages and learning styles with these topics. My goal is to help them explore the world about them, and understand how the world is shaped and re-shaped. Looking at the bones of creation is exciting, and in my opinion, is best experienced hands-on. I’ll even tolerate getting a little dusty and dirty. I anticipate at least one shelf full of “specimens” for each child, and at least one pocket ripping off due to rock overloads. Who knew a geology study would require a portable sewing kit?

Science: Botany (Winter, Spring, Summer, Fall)
Botany is delightful in its practical application. What better way to learn about plants than to observe the natural cycles? We’ll be making seed-mats for the plants we’d like to grow in the kitchen garden (as well as carving out some more ideal spaces for that kitchen garden), learning about organic, sustainable gardening, adding lavender and dahlias to the cottage garden beds out front, planning shade-tolerant additions to the edges of the back garden, adding some grain plots to the back garden with an eye toward delighting the hens at fall harvest, observing the life cycle of plants as we go along, identifying and classifying the plants in our yard, neighborhood, and region, perhaps creating nature journals, exploring how to draw from nature (along with plant anatomy).

We’ll make some plant presses (though we will likely free-style ours with the help of the Tall, Dark, and Slightly Neanderthal fellow I married), and perhaps scrapbooks or framed plant art… there’s a lot to love about botany, and we’re going to have fun loving it. I anticipate field trips to farmer’s market, to area parks, and get-togethers with friends for seed-sharing and food-sharing, too. Botany and picnics seem to go right along together, don’t they?

And again: no set textbooks. We’ll use real books about plants, thanks.

Science: Astronomy (Spring, Summer, Fall)
We’ll study the planets and other heavenly bodies, their orbits and movements, this history of astronomy and astronomers, and why light pollution is becoming a problem; then we’ll escape light pollution and take the telescopes to the mountains in Oregon, and out on the desert in Central Idaho, and gaze to our hearts’ content. There’s bound to be at least one planetarium trip, and likely a few very late nights with friends, meteor-spotting.

Again, each child will approach our study from their own experience level, and will progress to their own satisfaction. I’m simply the mentor with a goal to spark discovery and curiosity. If one child spends most of our study time drawing, and another reads multiple biographies on various scientists, and another rigs up a planetary mobile suspended from the ceiling fan, I’m happy. None of these topics are a single-shot, high-stakes-testing situation. We’ll revisit them over and over, and small and large ways, through the seasons, and each time, each child will experience them in slightly different ways.

Literature: Genre Studies (Continuing)
As a literature major, I despised most of the philosophy for the department.

I know. Rebelling again.

But really, I can’t think of a better way to kill the love of reading than to test on every book! So, we don’t do that. Instead, we’re devoting this year to studying literature genres. Each Big Kid is choosing a genre they particularly enjoy. We’ll examine the scope of the genre, its particular conventions, and its history and development. Each will identify and read a few “foundational” works, as well as a selection of increasingly modern pieces (of their own choosing). Instead of book reports, we’ll enjoy book discussions and book reviews (which can be submitted for publication on Amazon, for instance). They will complete a few longer written reviews, in which they discuss what they’re absorbing with regards to genre formation and development. All through the process, my goal is to help them really enjoy their reading, and to be able to analyze why, and to communicate their ideas as needed.

So, no vocab tests and character sketches and point-by-point plot re-hashing: instead, we’ll enjoy books together. That works.

Scripture: Old Testament (Continuing)
This is one aspect where we’ll largely divide into Big Kids and Little Girls. The Littles will learn more about foundational scripture stories through story books, puppet play (yay, more homemade fridge magnets!), memorization, and songs.

The Big Kids will be continuing to learn to study and research in the scriptures, both together and individually. We’ll be keeping scripture study journals, the contents of which will not be tested or evaluated, because we’re a learning home, not a testing home, and scriptural insight is personal. However, I anticipate quite a few group discussions on a variety of topics, and I’m looking forward to the brainstorming that will happen.

If you want to explore some great scripture study ideas with your family, or for your own edification, I recommend reading at The Redheaded Hostess, who is pretty amazing and encouraging. Latter-day Homeschooling also has some great ideas for scripture study with many ages.

Maths (Continuing)
Eldest will be diving into the Culinary Math book she’ll be expected to understand when she’s old enough for her culinary arts programs. Tackling it now has several benefits: one, it gets her interested in math in concrete, useful ways; and two, with that knowledge under her belt, she’ll have a leg up on the subject in her higher education, and might be able to challenge the course, or just get an easier high mark (and maybe make a bit of cash tutoring others.)

The Boy and our Spare Teen will progress at their own pace through the math instruction at Khan Academy. The module tracking is fun, the instruction high-quality, and it’s very easy for each to work independently.

All three of the Big Kids will gain additional real-life math experience through their choice of entrepreneurial adventures. They’re at a perfect age to experiment with micro-business.

Spicy and Lefty will do a bit of basic work at Khan Academy, but the majority of their math learning will come through real-life games and experiences: making quilt blocks with magnets on the fridge, building with LEGO, counting money and playing store/restaurant/bank, learning measurements in the kitchen and around the house and gardens with a variety of measuring tools, and dozens of other real-life math literacy experiences.

With a few new chess sets in the family, I anticipate some friendly neighborhood tournaments this year, as well. My goal with our math exploration is to support math thinking and literacy, not necessarily to get every kid through calculus at twelve.

Art (Continuing)
While the Eldest will have a more formal approach to art (as she leans strongly that direction under her own steam), art and art history are woven into the experiences in every topic. We’ll look at historic pieces, create new work, and use drawing, painting, modeling, etc to explore our science, math, history, and literature topics. I don’t like to separate the humanities from the sciences. They co-exist; neither is truly complete without the other.

Music (Continuing)
Here, each child has their own program. Eldest will continue voice lessons. Spare Teen will be studying voice, Scottish drumming, and independent piano. The Boy continues in piping, pennywhistle, and Scottish drumming. Spicy and Lefty will join me in learning more songs to sing, and we’ll toss Scottish Highland dancing into the mix as well. The entire family has many upcoming opportunities to play and perform together, and I’m terribly excited about those!

Right now, the instrument count at our place is as follows: one upright piano, one electric keyboard (thanks, Daddy, lo these many years ago!), one coronet, two trumpets, one bugle, one set bongos, three or four pennywhistles,  four snare drums, eight tenor drums, one small guitar, one 3/4 size violin, two sets Highland great pipes, one set of shuttle pipes, and some shaky eggs somewhere in the Little Girls’ toy box. I think there’s also at least one harmonica around here. And The Boy wants to make a PVC didgeridoo. And I have Band Sons who add other stringed instruments, more drums, another PVC didgeridoo, a flute, and a wide variety of noises they make with their mouths.

So music sort of… happens around here. It’s not quiet very often.

The Budget
I’m dirt-cheap. Cheaper than dirt-cheap. So, we’ll continue to use the library and other free resources as our primary items, so our budget continues to be pretty much free. Though, I do have a bit of a thing for used hardcover books, and I’m sure we’ll add some select volumes to the household library through the year. I would like to find a good used microscope (not toy quality!), and we need to hit Harbor Freight for some handheld magnifying glasses, so we can have a lot of fun exploring the world of the tiny as we head through winter and into spring.

The Schedule
Still pretty loose. We tend toward routines, rather than schedules. Some of those routines need to be refined, as we have increasingly-capable minions around here, and it would be a shame to forget to harness their powers for good, rather than for the evil they are prone to when left to their own devices.

The Learning Space
All 780 square feet of our little mid-century cottage, plus the front and back and side gardens, the sidewalks, the garage, and the driveway! Learning can happen at any moment, in any space, and I’m excited to keep up with that plan. I have a decent vacuum. I’m set.

“Mom, why are some words starting with a big letter, and other times, the same word doesn’t have a big letter?”

Aha! While we don’t spend a lot of time naming out formal grammar and usage rules in the elementary years, this was a perfect chance to explain capitalization of nouns, and the beginnings of sentences. We chatted informally for perhaps three minutes, Spicy was satisfied, and off she went about her day.

This morning, as I lay drowsing and elevating a sprained knee, I heard Spicy in the kitchen with the Tall, Dark, and Slightly Neanderthal fellow who sired her.

“This note is for you, Daddy. I wrote Dad with a cadibull… cab… capidull D, because you are a special Dad, not just any dad, and special people get cabidullized. So I did that.”

For me, that’s a snapshot of our learning lifestyle: short, informal conversations that answer the needs of the child, right in that moment, when they are most likely to absorbed, remembered, and utilized forever. There’s no test that can tell me more precisely that my Rising Seven-year-old understands the capitalization of nouns. I don’t need to evaluate her, or quiz her. I’m privileged to be intimately connected to her exploration and understanding of everything around her, and it’s a grand way to start a new year!

This year, some aspects of our celebration were similar to previous years, and some were new, and altogether, it’s been lovely!

Again this year, my Tall, Dark, and Slightly Neanderthal fellow dressed as Father Christmas for the Thanksgiving Day charity race, and Eldest went with him as his elf, Merry. (Christmas. We’re nerdly in our punfulness.) Since it was a full 45* warmer this year than last (it was REALLY cold last year), we had a fantastic time. I neglected to take pictures.

Again this year, we didn’t put up a tree. Our bitty cottage really has no floor space for one, and there’s no way to rearrange to fit one easily. So, we decorated the mantel (handmade by that Tall, Dark, and Slightly Neanderthal fellow!), the kids each decorated at least one wreath, and the whole decking of halls was accomplished without blasphemy, because we packed things away very neatly last year. (In March. Don’t judge me.) Also, I neglected to take pictures.

Adapting from last year, we put the creche in the center of the mantel, flanked by angels. Last year, it was on the piano. I like it better on the mantel, tucked in with the Isle of Sky chess set king and queen, an odd tiny Father Christmas figurine or two, and the felt camel, horse, sheep, and goat a friend gave us (from Outer Mongolia. Really. Not being hyperbolic there. They were bought in Ulaanbataar. Outer Mongolia. SO COOL!)

(Oh look! A picture!)

Again this year, I didn’t send out physical Christmas cards. With the growing artiness in our family, though, and inspired by the gorgeous art cards created by a dear friend’s family each year, we may revisit this decision, and create cards next year. Years ago, before I abandoned all hope of getting personal items in the mail before Christmas (because work mailings take up so much of my time!), we had Eldest make our cards. Now we have even easier capacities to have them printed, so…. we’ll see.

With half of our children in their teens, I think we need to do more to support their Transition Christmas years. You know, those weird years where you just don’t have the same breathless anticipation as you did when a child, nor do you have full charge of the festivities as you do when an adult, so you feel rather floaty and disconnected, and it’s so easy to feel sad? There are things to do to help: focusing on the spiritual elements, seeking out service opportunities, and putting ones talents to good uses to bless others. We did this somewhat this year, and next year can be even better for our teens, with some pre-planning. It’s important to me that they get to associate our celebration of the birth of Christ with meaningful joy.

Again this year, we had a host of homemade and carefully selected (odd) gifts. That part is possibly my favorite! The Little Girls, who are still young enough for a good Mom Deception, helped me make sewn wool hens for one another. I get such a giggle out of their happiness to make something for a sister, combined with their longing, “I sure wish I had a hen like this…”, followed by my suggestion that perhaps after Christmas, we could make one together? The joy on their mutual faces as they opened their hens was lovely!

(The hens are an adaptation of a free pattern from Bustle & Sew. I overlapped the head and body portions to cut them from a single piece of accidentally-felted wool sweater, added a bit more seam allowance to make a sewn-and-turned style, rather than an exposed edge style, used blanket stitch to attach and finish the wings all in one go, and skipped the cardboard insert for the base oval. I love–and more importantly, the Little Girls love–how they turned out!)

The Tall, Dark, and Slightly Neanderthal fellow worked with The Boy, Eldest, and our Spare Teen to create a PVC-and-canvas playhouse for the Little Girls. The Eldest did truly gorgeous paintwork to turn a painter’s canvas into a Tudor-inspired cottage, and it’s sure to be a work in progress for awhile, as she continues to add little details, like flowering vines up a trellis, a brick chimney stack on the other side, and a few painted hens scratching the in front garden beds.

(The Boy patiently awaits the emergence of Little Girls from their new cottage. He waiteth in vain. They are still sleeping in it, and it’s Wednesday.)

Eldest got to see firsthand that yes, frozen gingersnap cookie dough is indeed a fantastic gift for a nearly-13yo gingersnap fiend. The Boy was grateful to a touching degree, and ate several bits frozen. Now, we’ll have to work on his muscles of charity and sharing, because there’s no way he gets to eat them all himself, unmolested.

This year, we had so many bonus children to celebrate with! Hand-crafted gifts for each of the Band Sons (drumstick pouches, pennywhistle holsters), and our Spare Teen (a range of handmades and small purchases), plus getting together to make music and enjoy food and movies together, really extended our celebrations through the whole week, and that was lovely! (We made crock-pot haggis… offal-free, and quite tasty, too. Worth a whack if you’re up for a food dare and feeling celebratory in a Scottish sort of way.)

This year, we had more music than ever! Starting with the Eldest’s recital, and moving through impromptu music in random stores (Eldest and Spare Teen), to a singing-heavy Christmas Eve Eve devotional I was delighted to direct for church, we’ve been surrounded with sacred music, and my soul delights in it! Coming up with more and more ways to enjoy music next year is easy… we know we’ll work hard to participate in the Festival of Trees next year, and the local museum’s Old Fashioned Christmas, and hopefully another devotional, and some costumed caroling… so many opportunities!

This year, we attended church services first thing on Christmas morning. This doesn’t happen often, that Christmas falls on our Sabbath, and I am so very glad it did. (For one thing, with everyone dressed and tidy, the pictures I remembered to take during opening gifts later were all far more attractive than previous years.) The opportunity to see beloved fellow congregants, to participate in the Sacrament of Communion of Christ’s Supper, to sing rejoicing and worshipful hymns… it was soul-filling, and lovely. It makes me want to agitate just a smidge for Christmas morning services, regardless of the day of the week, next year. We shall see, we shall see.

(I must share my favorite Christmas story from Sunday services. After services ended, I went to the front to say Happy Christmas to my very favorite Austrian Organist, who is my partner in crime when it comes to playing Very Up-Tempo Hymns. She was particularly sparkly, and I asked what had her in such a good mood? Turns out, our lovely pipe organ was first play for Christmas services, 50 years ago (1961), by none other than my very favorite Austrian Organist! She was also about 42 months pregnant at the time, and when she struck the opening chords for the opening hymn, realized that it was good the hymn was a short one, or she just might have a baby right there on the organ bench. Sure enough, by supper, her seventh child had arrived. Five decades later, she still smiles her way through, and I’m so glad she shared this reason to smile with me!)

Again this year, we skipped high-stress “perfect” meals. Christmas Eve was the day for “party food”, which means homemade cayenne wings, garlic wings, BBQ kosher franks, raw veg, olives, homemade garlic dill dip, homemade blue cheese dressing (with my favorite Zoi yogurt!), my hot artichoke-spinach dip, and a few crusty baguettes.

Okay, so 90% of that is made from scratch at home, but I have minions, and the stuff goes together in minutes, I promise. It was totally slacker food.

Christmas day was leftovers, and a beef roast with roasted root veggies, gravy, salad, and fruit.

And we extended the fun into Monday with Chinese Egg Drop Soup, homemade potstickers, and a good lo-mein noodle stir-fry thing (because The Boy got nifty new enameled chopsticks for Christmas, and he was going to DIE if he didn’t get to eat noodles soon.) At no point was I trapped in the kitchen. I had time to read and play and sing and nap.

But one of my favorite events of the season? Hearing two sets of highly realistic “Bock bock brrrroooock” noises behind me, and seeing little stuffed hens “guarding” the cottage. Homemade, flexible traditions are just so very, very nifty.

(This Very Long Day actually started on Thursday, with intermittent napping Thursday night, and an all-nighter on Friday, because, Heaven forfend I should start a big project early, or finish without sleep deprivation. And just for fun, let’s bake a few cakes for the after-parties, too. And some rehearsals, and gym lessons that overlap them.  But, I was functional all day Saturday, and am duly Impressed With Myself.)

(Also, I adore the antique affectation of capitalizing important words. It’s so much more Elegant than the random capitalization that passes for Creativity these days, or even more dreadful, the substitution of numbers for letters: Cre8ivity, or Heaven 4fend. Really, people? Typing teachers and lit professors everywhere are weeping into their lovely mustaches, male and female alike.)

So: busy week ending in busy weekend.

First up, voice recital, the first ever for our Eldest. She rather enjoys Steampunk-inspired things, so part of her Christmas is a Momma-made new “best” outfit, in a Steampunkish style, in time for her recital. I’m not wholly tickled with the whole thing (who knew man-made brocades would continue to grow and grow, even with stabilizing cloth?? Silk brocade doesn’t do this! And also, Big 4 patterns rarely accommodate for things like the turn-of-cloth, so the lining needs to be taken out, re-worked, and re-installed.)

I did discover that I don’t hate zippers quite so much as I thought I did. I merely despise those “overlap and fiddle and insert” zippers. Fully separating zippers are nay sae dreadful, really. I might be bribed to do more of those. All flaw aside, I like the hand-made buttonholes (worked between 3:30 and 4:30 am, Saturday morning, because I am a completely weirdo freak sewist who can’t abide machined holes on one-shot fabrics like sateen), and the “Spanish Snap” bound buttonhole that acts as the opening of a teensy little pocket for lip balm hiding under the pocket flap. And the color is great on her, n’est pas? So it’s all worthwhile.

One of our family’s greatest gifts and curses is to view our own performance through poo-colored glasses, so we’re rather objective and harsh. In her own evaluation, she was critical of her anxiety, sinus issues that created some breaks where she didn’t want them, and one brief episode of “Oh crap” when she lost her place in the very first performance. The Tall, Dark, and Slightly Neanderthal fellow is also critical of his sound engineering attempts, so the audio files are un-edited and there’s ambient noise. Since our life basically consists of ambient noise, I am fine with this.

All considered, I think Eldest has a lot to be proud of; she’s worked hard through two seasons of voice lessons, stretched her range by loads of notes at the top and bottom, and when she relaxes, she has this gorgeous amount of feeling that makes you shiver–you’ll hear bits of that in “I’m Not That Girl” and “O, Divine Redeemer”, when she forgot herself and got absorbed into the song.

Listening to her practice, or in a lesson, I completely understand my Grandma, who used to sit in her room just below mine, and listen to me sing (all unbeknownst to me) in a private concert nearly daily. It’s very cool to hear someone you love beyond words make actual music, when your personal best mode of worship and connection is also music.

And yes, the Aunties and Grands and Greats can expect a disc in the mail with the sound files, before Christmas. I pinkie-promise.

Without further ado, here are the links to the private videos (can’t embed sound files on a freebie WordPress account, more’s the pity):

Rolling in the Deep

I’m Not That Girl

Hark, The Herald Angels We Have Heard On High (Christmas Medley)

O, Divine Redeemer

And after all that fun in the morning, we had a glorious evening, full of Scouting. My Tall, Dark, and Slightly Neanderthal fellow  completed his Scouting Woodbadge program, and was “beaded” last night, in a shared Court of Honor with one of our Band Sons, who received his Eagle Scout award. Multiple fellows from the pipe band turned out in full fig to support the new Eagle, and much fun was had by all.

We also came home with a huge banner thing (man crafting at its finest, that upright cruciform thing behind my husband’s head) reserved as a sort of booby prize for the last member of the Woodbadge cohort to finish his projects. I’d qualify that with this: my Tall, Dark, and Slightly Neanderthal fellow does nothing by half-measures, so his projects were rather more grand and time consuming than many.

A pleasant reception followed, during which Spicy and Lefty fell in love with an aging black lab (who fell in love with them, and spent her evening laying in their laps), and then we went home and made nachos and watched a goofy movie, and I made it all the way through without falling asleep.

The end.

It was a pretty average day, in all truth. Some of us dragged out groggy, others were chipper and vigorous. We had a good breakfast, cleaned up quickly, and dove into some pleasant learning for the day.

We made bread, and talked about yeast burps, and different types of flour (we were using fine wheat and coarse wheat freshly-ground in our hand-mill with the help of little girls), and why honey helps homemade bread stay moist. (It’s hygroscopic, in case you were wondering, which helps the bread pull in ambient humidity and stay more moist. Or, it would, if two loaves of bread ever lasted longer than 24 hours around here.)

We had a grand total of four computers running at one point, as various schooling kids (plus the extra teen we have around these days) worked on math (for hours, all willingly!), and some history, and some sociology, and some typing (Spicy), and some email, and some research into new branches of mythology, and LEGO architecture, and art.

We printed out a cute set of Nativity figures, sealed them in contact paper, added self-stick magnets, and made a fridge Nativity for Spicy and Lefty (and all the rest of us, when the Little Girls aren’t looking. Lefty gets particularly stinky when we move stuff out of the Order She Hath Ordained. I have no idea where she gets that.)

We cleaned Lefty’s chalkboard, drew letters and words and math problems all over it, and cleaned it all off again.

We made some black wool bobbles to decorate Scottish hats (messy, but always a bit fun to do up!)

We read books together (a huge pile of them), and discussed the life cycle of pigeons as our new “pet”, a fledgling pigeon named Kevin, exercised her wings riding around on the hands of various children. (Also, we discussed why my Tall, Dark, and Slightly Neanderthal Fellow should not go to the hardware store without adult supervision. A baby pigeon? Really??)

We worked on the plans for our upcoming scripture study project (mostly Eldest, me, and our Spare Teen, but we’re going to drag the rest in, too, as we’re able.)

We lunched on fresh bread, butter, jam, and cheese; Eldest and Spare Teen made cookies for everyone. Bagpipes. Highland Dance practice. Singing rehearsal. My work projects, squidged in between everything else. Laundry sorting, running, and folding. The Boy made half a set of chess pieces using spent ammunition brass (it’s a joint project with his best friend).

We watched a video about conjoined twins, and part of The Secret of Nimh (we’ve read the book as a family.)

And, I had this conversation with Lefty:

Me: Baby, we need to get you some bigger gloves, so you can swing with warm fingers.

Lefty: Yes, orange ones, please, Mom. I love orange.

Me: Yes, I know. I may need to look in the boy section for orange ones, if they don’t have any in the girl’s section.

Lefty, squirking up one eyebrow and fixing me with a gaze of utter disdain: BOY gwoves? Weally, Mom? WEALLY?

And I had to kiss her on the top of her fluffy white noggin, just so I wouldn’t really offend by giggling my face off.

So, learning at home is just generally a really nice way of living. It’s been a good day.

I’m not a big fan of most children’s programming. There are a few notable exceptions, one of them being a British children’s animated show called “Kipper.” Kipper is a gentle show, with very mild peril every now and again to keep things interesting, and a generally rosy, cheerful outlook on life. The art is pretty, the characters are not whiny, and the adventures are a fun mix of realism and fantasy. And the baby pig, Arnold, sucks his thumb almost as much as Lefty sucks hers.

One episode has Kipper and his friends observing some hedgehogs in the yard… which led, of course, to our family falling in love with hedgehog videos on-line, and hedgehog books, and Jan Brett’s cute hedgehog color pages and many things hedgified.

That generally leads to wanting to share hedgies with friends, too, particularly if you are a Rising Seven little girl with a Newly Six little friend who adores handmade things (she received the Frog Toss game last year, and still plays with it). So, in anticipation of a little friend’s birthday, I made a hedgehog in fleece. Decided non-spiky, and very cuddly and wee.

Which led, of course, to requests from bigger lads and lasses for their own hedgehog (one on a clip to be worn as a hair ornament, one “in blue, please”–and the young fellow requesting it was delighted that I understood the Sonic reference), plus requests from my own little girlies for hedgehogs, and hedgehogs to send to far-off Outer Mongolia (really! No hyperbole! They’re going to Outer Mongolia!)… Well, I’m a hedgie-making Mama in the evenings just now.

These don’t take much in the way of fabrics, and could be done in felted wool just as easily as fleece; I prefer to handsew them (backstitch, tiny) as they’re too fiddly for good machine work and would need to be finished by hand anyhow.

Click to download a PDF pattern and instructions; these are free for personal use, but please don’t be a jerk and sell them or sell the pattern. Just link back here, and let people make their own.

NotMolly Hedgehog Pattern

For more handmade gift ideas, and an all-around peaceful, pleasant spot to read, visit the 2011 Handmade Holiday at Plain and Joyful Living, too!

Actually, I wasn’t just reminded. I was appalled, and offended.

Go here and watch the previews, but you might want to duct-tape your skull first, because I think I felt my brain explode.

It’s a “comedy” titled “I Hate My Teenage Daughter.”

Yeah.

Ouch.

Is this really what we, as a culture, have decided to be “entertainment?” Do we really want to celebrate generational disrespect, cruel comments, destructive relationship patterns, weakness… in short, do we actually glamorize a cultivated hatred for our loved ones?

People have debated the merits of nature versus nurture in the development of traits and characteristics for quite a long time. In this situation, I’d argue that the whole negative ball of wax is a cumulative effect of nurture: how we train ourselves, and how we train those around us. Our nascent attitudes become our studied character, if we don’t watch out. Small cutting remarks grow into a habit of cruelty in thought and deed. Laziness becomes a pattern of weakness that leaves our families rudderless and grasping. Lack of respect for the inherent divine spark in every creation leads to laxity and emotional neglect, to denigration, rather than elevation.

When a child is “treated” to a decade and a half of a parent stating, right in front of that tiny personage, how Mum or Daddy “can’t WAIT til the kids are back in school,” or “how great it was before kids” or “we’re turning his room into a sewing room the weekend he graduates, so he’d better have something planned!”, how on earth is that supposed to do anything but alienate the affection that ought to exist between parent and child? Would we, as reasonable adults, ever deign to waste our emotions on people who treated us this way?

When interaction with a child, time with a child, is routinely passed over in favor of “mature” pursuits, “me” time, and other semi-selfish desires, what message does that give to a formative character? What worth must they assume they have, if they are never “worth” our time and effort?

None of this is to say that a parent ought to devote every single breath of every single day catering a child; quite the opposite! Children need not be catered to at all: they deserve nurturing and mentoring, not catering. Catering connotes “serving up on a platter, satisfying every whim”, which leads to an aggrandizement of self versus the control of self and channeling of passions in productive ways. Children need (crave!) both interactive time with parents, and quiet time alone to process what they are learning. Adults need mentoring time with children, as well as quiet alone time to continue to develop in their own passions and pursuits.

(The two are not mutually exclusive! It might be as simple as having together story time, and independent reading time, with both parent and child snuggled together, reading from their individual books. It could be as easy as inviting our children to join us in as many aspects of life as possible: preparing food, working in a garden, shopping, strolling along a riverside, listening to music, going out to a nice restaurant, spending an hour at the Lego aisle or following music paths on YouTube, just to delight over the delights of our child’s heart.)

From the show’s description, we find that it’s about “single mothers struggling to raise their over-privileged teenage daughters, whose mean-girl antics have begun to cross the line.”

Really.

If the girls are “over-privileged”, who indulged them and turned them in that path? If they are “mean-girls”, whose parental neglect and inattention allowed small negativities to blossom into a full-blown poor character? Who decided to allow “antics” to become systematic cruelties? Who decided it was too much work to take a hand in raising (elevating!) their own child?

At what point did tiny cruel “jokes” become a character trait and lifestyle habit? When did verbal abuse become “comedy?” When do we decide to put a stop to training ourselves to hate our children, and our children to hate us?

I’m offended.

I’m offended for my fellow mothers and fathers who love their kids so much it hurts to watch them sleeping.

I’m offended on behalf of those who look into the eyes of children across the world, and want so much for them.

I’m offended for the teen boys and girls in my acquaintance who add so much to our home, when they “invade” and play our piano loudly, and bake pies in my kitchen while singing along to all their favorite songs; when they work in my gardens just because they can, and lounge on the floor playing with Legos; when they read books to my little girls, and break out drum pads, pipe chanters, and penny whistles to make music; when they drop by to introduce us to a friend or (oooooo!) an important young fellow or young lady; when they share meals with us and fill the narrow living room with size 13 feet and giggle over silly movies with us.

I’m offended on their behalf, because I feel privileged to know their young hearts, to visit with them, to discuss important things, to breathe in the passion with which they approach life. They are wonderful! They are delightful! They are good people, trying so hard to be acceptable and worthy. They deserve so much affection and kindness.

They do not deserve, in any way, alienation and disaffection. They do not deserve hatred.

If they have rough spots? Well, they’re still in formation. So am I. I’d far rather love them with their warts, than discard them and abandon them to whatever a dissolute world would inflict upon them.

When I initially posted my astonished, offended response to this show trailer on Facebook, it sparked a pretty lively discussion. A few things that came out in that discussion are particularly interesting:

1: Attitudes and affection really do change when we indulge in small, nasty comments as “jokes”. When we re-school our tongue to speak (and think) kind things, rather than cruel, we retrain our affections. We can act as agents of alienation, or of increasing respect and love. It’s entirely a personal choice. Habits can be formed for good or ill, dependent on our personal will.

2: There are so many cultural points that speak to “hatred” today! Rejection of children is a prominent one in many areas. Individual circumstances differ, of course, and not everyone will raise and parent a child, but there are so many ways to share love and life, even without having children in the home through birth, adoption, fostering, or mentoring. Loving people across the world stimulate their “affection zone” by contributing to local, regional, national, and world-wide projects that aid children, and those actions increase the natural affection inherent to the human soul.

We were not meant to be loveless. We were not meant to be self-focused. We were not designed to emotionally abandon our children (though a few generations of laxity and lack of parental example and societal pressure to “do what feels good right now” have created just such abandoned children).

We were created for better, more elevating, finer things. We were created for life, love, and joy. We cannot serve without increasing our joy… it’s quite impossible! We love whom we serve, and true love is found in the service of others, whether those others reside in our own homes, or in the far reaches of a land we’ll never see with our eyes.

That’s our nature: our inborn traits of the heart, our spark of divinity.

What we nurture? That’s entirely up to us.