5 Things I want my children to know (and I hope I already told them)

"If the only prayer you said was thank you, that would be enough." 

Meister Eckhart

My children, did you know that sometimes when I lie down in my bed after a long evening of sport practices, meal preparation and chores, I fervently thank God for my bed? I do. A bed is such an ordinary thing, but I know how lucky I am to have a warm, firm, comfortable place of my own to rest my body.

I also regularly thank God for all the fruits and vegetables we can afford, for your Papa's job, for our little dog Taz and the joy he brings, and for our small, comfy, air-conditioned home here in Arizona.

Don't forget to be grateful for the little, ordinary things that we think are our right to have. Not everyone has them. That lesson is crucial, and I believe these ones are, too:

Respect the Working Man

Your Paca told his children this when we were little, and you need to practice it, too. To every man and woman who works hard for a living, especially those who do hard, menial tasks or serve others' needs for long hours, show your respect and appreciation. Never take advantage by giving them more work out of carelessness or your own laziness. Return that shopping cart! Put things back on the shelf after you're done examining them. The steady Joes and Janes of this world keep it pumping, God bless them.

Another Reason Not to Do Drugs

Whether it is their intention or not, every person who does illicit drugs supports a chain of absolute evil, including murder and violence against women, children and the poor/desperate. Remember that if some happy pill or powder is ever proffered by a "cool" friend. It's not just that these terrible chemical substances are toxic for you and highly addictive, robbing you of control in your own life; they are cancerous in society at all levels of their supply chain. 

Entertainment Often Is Not Mere Entertainment

Be careful what you expose yourself to in the name of a good time. This includes movies, video games, TV, social media, and of course, real world performances.

Not Every Day Should Be a Feast

This, if you keep it in mind, will serve you well your whole life. You will be healthier physically, financially, emotionally and, most importantly, spiritually. You will be more likely to remember that some in this world don't have a bed, clean water, or regular food, and thus, being grateful for what you have, you will share. 

I suppose you could say all things in moderation, but people have begun to ignore that phrase; the word moderation has sort of lost its meaning in today's first-world society, just like the words honor and valor.

Here's what I mean, specifically:

Learn to recognize a real need. Treats are called treats for a reason. They're not necessary; they're an extravagance. If you have them every day or a few times a day, they are no longer treats. This likely means you're spoiled, dependent and have lost some perspective on what really matters. (That is a boat I am trying constantly to get out of!) Don't eat out every day. Save that expensive cup of coffee for rare occasions; it'll taste better. Don't live your life searching for the best brands to display on your person, only stay in luxury hotels or always carry the "next" smartphone. Use things until they have lost their usefulness before throwing them out.

Let Thanksgiving and Christmas in their abundance and oodles of candy on Halloween be something really special still.

And always read about what is going on in the world - real, well-written articles, I mean. You will constantly bear in mind how lucky you are and this will help you know exactly where your resources are greatly needed to lift up your fellow (wo)man.

Smile!

Your mama believes in the power of a simple smile to spread joy and love in this world.

As it turns out, so did Mother Teresa. 

Community

A couple weeks ago at my optometrist's office, I made a confession when they asked how I was doing.

"My littlest one started kindergarten, and that was so hard. It hit me like a ton of bricks. I'm still adjusting."

Making that confession felt good. It feels good - mostly - every time I make it. Yes, I am a mama whose life has been almost entirely wrapped up in her kids' health, behavior, nutrition, entertainment, sleep, and happiness for several years now, so indeed, it did hit me like a ton of bricks when my last one left me to get a formal education.

The ladies behind the desk didn't have much to say to that, though one agreed that her youngest starting school this year impacted her in much the same way. They listened and nodded, and for me it was once more a release of feelings that have been burdening me.

Now granted, I confess my feelings too often. I don't just wear them on my sleeve; I have them emblazoned across my forehead, tattooed on my lids, threaded around my hair and dangling from my ears. I cannot keep my emotions couped up; I must free them - preferably in the company of others. This isn't always the best way, but nobody could say I'm not honest. In fact, that's what one friend told me when I made a different "confession" of feelings and insecurities to a group of ladies I respect. I asked them if they thought I was being crazy, and she replied, "No, I think you're being honest."

All this talk about feelings, my dear readers, was simply to say that we need each other, community. I need community, heaven help me. In the past few weeks, I have called my dad and my two sisters on the phone and sought out my friends for guidance and comfort in this new and uncertain phase of my life. And sure, it would not be the best idea for me to blab my real heavy concerns to near strangers at my eye doctor's, but it would not a bad idea, either, if I feel supported and respected even if, at the same exact time, I am vulnerable.

It's like that great soul song, "Lean On Me", says: "we all need somebody to lean on" at one time or another. God gave us each other, for He is Himself a community of persons: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. 

How often have we heard repeatedly the dreadful news that arose from the actions of individuals who felt profoundly alone, society's "loners"? 

Our families are ideally the mirror of God's love for us, the epicenter of a hopefully ever widening opportunity for and experience of it.

I have often heard church compared to just a social club, but for me there could be no better community than one with God at its center, one where the members learn from each other. Yes, we, imperfect as we are, know we'll still fail each other along the way with our rash judgments or selfish indifference, but we also know that we will succeed often, too, by welcoming and encouraging one other, bolstering each other in the storms, rejoicing with each other in the victories, and continually being Christ for each other.

The other day at a church volunteer gathering a young mother spoke to me of her struggles with her very temperamental toddler and his habit of getting up six to ten times a night. The best and most hopeful thing I could give to her was to assure her that I have been through that as well; my own children didn't sleep through the night until they were toddlers or preschoolers. I often felt lonely and floundering, too, in my vocation as a mother. I shared how my moms' group, started through our parish, saved me from that isolation.

Isn't that the gift we have to offer in community - the assurance that "You are not alone" and "I am with you"?

With the solid foundation of compassion, mercy, hope, selflessness, courage, and at the very base, love, we build authentic communities. We don't just build them with our family, our colleagues, fellow parents, fellow believers, or those with whom we share a common interest. We build them by including those who are lonely, afraid, marginalized, smiling regularly at someone who looks as if they feel alone, giving our time to one another.

We are not islands. Beginning with family we are the essential building blocks of life and love for each other.

The Art and Value of Entertainment

My husband recently asked me if everything I listened to, read, or watched had a positive value.

This was after we got into a fight over the Superbowl halftime show. I had to leave the TV for a bit, because I found the spectacle, like every single Grammy's Award show I have ever subjected myself to, annoying. I left, but I did not leave my husband and son alone; I had an ear cocked, because I did not trust Katy Perry. Nothing had seemed visually indecent, but the lyrics to her songs are extremely frivolous and often raunchy. So, overreacting as I tend to do, as soon as I heard the song "California Gurls", I blurted, "This song isn't appropriate for Berto!"

Yes, I am really that protective when it comes to material that may form my son's opinions about women. I turn the station on the radio all the time. And, yes, I am very likely - not positively, mind you - too sensitive.

I told my husband flatly and haughtily, "When it comes to entertainment, I do not believe in pure entertainment. Everything has either a good value or a negative one."

That has always been one of my favorite pet sayings. It's very pithy, isn't it? Well, it was my favorite until my husband called me on it, made me stop and think.

"So everything you listen to or watch around the kids has a positive value? Nothing inappropriate at all?"

Whooo....."Well, nothing explicit. I mean, most of it is probably neutral, come to think of it - neither good nor bad. [As if he didn't know what neutral meant] But....uh....touché."

So I was wrong, but I amend my ways by asserting that most entertainment has a good or bad value. I still really like the saying.

I can find the value in stories that others would challenge. Take, for example, the movie Groundhog Day with Bill Murray. That romantic comedy, a childhood favorite, has a wealth of value based in the story of a selfish, self-centered, pride-filled man who over a seemingly endless day confronts the truth about himself and his ambitions and gradually learns to use his excess time, not for pleasure, consumption or self-aggrandizement, but to grow in kindness, humility, selflessness and skill. And he does it at first to win the attention and love of a woman - not too bad thing - but in the end continues because he grasps the value in doing good and helping others.

On the other side of the coin, I detest Adam Levine's song "Animals". Though just a song, some might say, to me it has terrible, unhealthy, carnal lyrics. I do agree with others that it sounds like a disturbing and explicit stalker song. The imagery has nothing to do with a loving relationship, and I have had a few talks with my 12-year-old son about it, because it seems to be a very popular song with his age group.

My husband and I also had a recent, quite lengthy discussion with our oldest boy about movies and books. Berto was upset that we didn't want him to read the book American Sniper until one of us had read it or until we had spoken with Uncle Dave about it. He was very distraught about the whole thing, and I couldn't understand why until it came out that his friends had told him repeatedly that his parents were too protective. Apparently, they also regularly spoke of usually vulgar movies that we wouldn't allow him to see because of content, and he felt completely left out of conversations, the odd man out of classroom culture, because his parents were "overprotective".

Well, what could we say but tough luck? I feel for him, but as I told him, I have myself walked out of or stopped watching many movies, because I found them offensive or too disturbing. I also have, regretfully, persisted in watching or reading things that I wish I had given up on much sooner, because the junk still clutters my mind.

My husband made the best point. He said that many times at work he has encountered the same situation. He doesn't pretend he has seen the movie or is going to see it. He says clearly that it is not a movie he has or will see - if asked. Then my man pointed out that it is our responsibility to raise our son to know healthy boundaries. God has given us that responsibility - to form his character, to foster good judgment, to teach him to swim against the current of the culture. We couldn't really care much less what other parents allow.

But....I have allowed Berto to read and watch things that other parents would not allow for their 12-year-old, including The Hunger Games (well, not the first violent movie). I believe that story has value in its commentary on good and evil: in its promotion of sacrifice, its lack of promiscuity; its apt portrayal of a society so disordered in the Capitol that people have lost their depth and discernment and parade about like outrageous plastic figurines, completely wrapped up in the superficial, in the sensory. I can say similar things about the value of The Lord of the Rings trilogy, Star Wars and the Harry Potter series, the latter of which I allowed my son to read when he was too young for it according to one of his teachers; my mistake, I admit. All these fantasy tales promote courage, community, love, honor and justice while not avoiding the intense heartache, cynicism, death, moral struggles, physical limitations, compromises and discouragement that come with personal and communal battles against evil.

In fact, any tale that promotes the best gifts we humans have and can foster, like love, hope, and courage, in battling evil have my support. There are millions of these stories for a reason.

Yet, I have also allowed my oldest children to watch things or read things, and later I regretted it. Berto watched Captain America and Iron Man, for instance, and they were both far more violent than I anticipated.

Recently I also allowed Ana to read The Princess Bride. Truly, I love the movie. Like many people, I grew up on it; my brother and I would watch the fencing scenes over and over again. But the book? Not so charmed. I am not sure what William Goldman's experience with women has been in general, but in his tale it seemed to me that he mostly portrays them as vain, capricious, simple creatures who once they have lost their looks, lose a good portion of their value and self-esteem. You can imagine I talked quite a bit to my girl about what she thought of his portrayals of our gender. Though he has a satirical writing style that grows on you, I most certainly could do without his anemic portraits of the female sex, and I'm glad that some of that was excluded from the movie.

Yet no one would argue that Buttercup and Westley fight for the right. They fight for love, the greatest thing. Even poor Inigo, lusting after revenge, is battling evil in his convoluted, obsessive way.

I really must wrap this up, for I believe I have lost my point and possibly my credibility. (Let me 'splain. No, it is too much. Let me sum up.) My point is that, for my own family and my own children and my own self, I do often find that "entertainment" either promotes the good or that it glorifies evil - sometimes in clever ways. I will not subject myself to gory horror movies or allow my children to ever play certain video games, because I think they intrinsically have a negative value based on their promotion of death, lust and violence. But I will someday (and I say someday because children can miss the central message in material that is too mature for them to handle) allow them to watch movies about the Holocaust, various wars, and mysteries, because they so powerfully express just how great the problem of evil is and just how bravely and inexhaustibly it has been challenged, contained, or transformed by mere mortals.

My family and I have discovered some really great stories lately that I believe promote the good. I will rattle off a few:

The Fifth Quarter movie: The story of a high school boy's death in a tragic car accident and how his family comes to grips with his senseless death as their community embraces them. His older brother returns to his college football career, and the whole team dedicates themselves to winning for his deceased brother. Powerful based-on-true-events story of faith, courage, community and one family's profound loss.

Get Low movie, starring Robert Duvall and Bill Murray: Wow, I loved this movie, far more than my husband thought I should, but it so eloquently expresses the effect of our sin in an unusual, brilliant way. Truly, you want to know what penance and confession might look like after years of silent guilt? Watch this. I balled like a baby.

A Child Called It memoir by David Pelzer: A memoir about surviving child abuse that is too powerful for me to sum up effectively. Nevertheless, I will try to review it in another post. Too disturbing for children.

Grantchester PBS TV series: Ah, murder mysteries. I love them, because they always get their man but do not overlook his humanity. Grantchester is an excellent series about an intelligent, nonjudgmental Anglican priest with great instincts and a gruff, cynical, but goodhearted policeman and their respect for each other as they work together solving crimes.

Ghost No More memoir by CeeCee James: This is the heartbreaking story of a childhood nearly devoid of love and the dignity that belongs to every human being, a girl's constant yearning for love, recognition and mercy from her parents. I will also review it in a post.

The Boy in the Striped Pajamas movie: My husband had to hold me at the end of this movie, because I was sobbing uncontrollably. It is about the friendship between a boy whose father is a commandant of one of Hitler's death camps and a boy who lives behind the fence of the nearby concentration camp. It is understandably controversial in its portrayal of events and people, but I thought the message of its final moments was powerful.

Technology Good....sometimes

This afternoon, while my little boy was napping, I was on this blasted computer attempting to look up a nun's performance on Italy's version of The Voice.

That sounds rather harmless, and so it is, I suppose, but after watching a couple videos and reading a couple articles, I was feeling sucked into the world of perpetual noise.

I might not have felt noise-sick if every site I clicked on did not have a million other extremely frivolous stories lined up on their sidebar to entice you into the rabbit hole. The nun's story I like, but the pictures trying to convince me to read about celebrities' latest meltdowns, most recent significant others or clothing choices, I could easily do without.

Oh, the noise, noise, noise, noise! I am a regular technology Grinch. You could find me someday, a disconnected hobo, sitting in a city park with a sign that reads, "Technology overload bad - revive Mother Nature". I wish my home page on the Internet could be a sweet, simple blank screen with a blinking search bar.

But my homepage is like any other. It is jam-packed with pictures of famous, often foolish, people, has bite-sized articles on how to look better, feel better, manage finances, improve your outlook, tell if your spouse is happy, buy shoes online, and polls asking you how you feel about the latest stupid thing someone has said or done. The real news (does that exist anymore?) is rare, and it is nearly always depressing. But I would take the "real news" about real-life human issues over the fluff designed to distract us any day.

This weekend I read a USA Today newspaper article about Millennial moms, in which group I am technically included, and it detailed how these moms are changing the face of motherhood through technology. They are using Pinterest to look up scientific experiments, fun party recipes, cool craft ideas. They use apps on their smartphones to manage their  baby's sleep schedule, breastfeeding schedule (huh?) and track doctor's appointments. Bloggers, they share their experiences, their joys and advice with other moms in the online community. They are plugged in, radiating all that fabulous information out for the edification of children and the art of motherhood. And they post numerous pictures on social media sites for distant family to enjoy.

I began to feel guilty as I read that old-fashioned newspaper. I rail against technology, how it is making us dumber socially, emotionally, and yes, I feel, intellectually. I rail against all the parents I see with their heads down over a phone, completely ignoring what their kids are doing - often because they've given their kids an I Pad to entertain them. Yet, how many times have I used this amazing available "social" technology to find a great meal for my family? Not often. How many pictures of my absolutely gorgeous children do I share on Facebook? Not many. How many fantastic crafts have I pulled from Pinterest to do with my children? None. I admit, I just don't have an affinity for it, and I am baffled by those who find their joy in it, but perhaps the main problem is that I simply do not know how to make the most of this brave new world in media.

So, yes, indeed - I am a mom who can be found with her nose in a week-old newspaper instead of her phone, but if I am still shrugging off my pestering children, so I can "just finish this article", the difference is the same. Yes, I still rely on a shelf of real-life cookbooks, but if I'm just making the same thing over and over, perhaps I should skip the nonsense on my home page to look for an online recipe to bring a bit more excitement to mealtimes. As for games and crafts, you are quite likely to find me playing classics such as Red Light/Green Light, and once upon a time before this house began to drive me bonkers with its mess, I could be found fairly often cutting and gluing construction paper projects with my kids. But I wonder....what are these new-fangled crafts people are raving about on their Facebook pages, glow-in-the-dark treasure hunts or fun birthday surprises, accompanied by gloating pictures? Maybe, yes maybe, I should try one of those.

Still...woman, know thyself.  I know that the more time I spend on the Internet, the more out of sorts I become - even if I am simply reading articles or posts by writers I admire. I'm not certain why this is, but I assuredly know that I cannot just meander around aimlessly, even if it is a simple mental stroll through friends' Facebook posts. I know my life could not be run by apps.

I am happiest when I only log in just a few times a week into my email. I don't go on Facebook unless I want to post or need to communicate with someone, but once there, it is a fight to return to reality, I confess. And perhaps the best decision for me personally was never to come on this blog merely to check stats. It is very discouraging and will squash any inspiration that is freshly percolating, and it is, regardless, a complete waste of my time. Yet, it always feels good to write, to have written here, and that doesn't induce Internet-sickness at all.

Where is my point, you ask? Well, I admire these courageous women who understand how to use the technology given them to be better moms. I admire them because it appears they do not waste time hardly at all or use it as an excuse to avoid their overactive kids but instead garner wonderful ideas for their little ones' development and happiness. Now that is surely not evil. Technology is not all bad.

Do not expect me to start posting pics of our latest family craft on Facebook (or any pics on Facebook - lost our camera again), however, but I do think I may be inspired to look up more recipes and crafts and try more of the good, clean ideas people put out there to share with the whole human community. After all, if Pope Francis can make good use of the Internet, my friends, so can I.



You might also like: Nature Good, Technology Bad

Let's STOP - for all that is Good

I can't look at the violent ads for movies since Newtown. I turn away, and I turn the channel. But I swear they are present during every break. Often I wonder just why such an ad is on screen during a weekend afternoon when children can be exposed to its crude message. (I should ask the same about Super Bowl ads.)

As has been pointed out in a different arena lately, all these stars who stand up for gun control have no problem shooting it up in ultra-violent, "realistic" film scenes for a fat paycheck. Some would say this is not hypocrisy, but it absolutely is.

They are not the primary ones who contribute to our culture of violence, however. Every selfish and/or ignorant parent who takes their five-, eight-, or ten-year-old to a movie meant for adults, because they don't want to pay for a babysitter or make entertainment sacrifices for their kids' well being (Believe me, I have seen tiny kids dragged into PG-13 and R movies) is culpable. Every parent who lets their teenage son play violently graphic, and often pornographic, video games shares blame. And, heck, never mind the teenagers, my 10-year-old son has shared the titles of games his peers are allowed to play, and it is discouraging.

A long time ago a mother reached out on Facebook to ask advice. Her son wanted to buy a rated M game with his own money. Should she let him do it? She had reservations, but he certainly wasn't a little kid anymore.

I liked my sister's response to that question. She replied that her 17-year-old son was not even allowed to play rated M games, that games for teenagers were almost all off limits, too.

People might scoff at that (he's a teenager, for crying out loud), but I think we'd all be better off if our youth were not exposed to simulated battle with weaponry, crime and sex. If 10-year-old's are playing war games or games with morally reprehensible titles and themes, my friends, society has a lasting problem. Kids gain a skewed view of life and its value.

It's harder as kids get older. I get it. I've made mistakes. A huge one was letting my eldest boy read all the Harry Potter books and then watch the movies. My husband just stared at my during one of the movies to communicate, What the hell were you thinking? My fast-forwarding of certain scenes didn't alter my Man's disapproval. And my boy's teacher let us know she thought it was a little early for him to read the whole series. She was right, but, foolishly, I had agreed to let Berto read the first book, and it snowballed. Berto was already a reader like his Aunt Vinca or Uncle Nate, seeming to devour rather than read books, and I made my mistake.

And I worry in the evening when our oldest two have reading time that they can hear the cop/detective shows my husband and I are watching in the other room. "Turn it down a little. Turn it down a little..." I say. Maybe in our small home with our small children, we should give up these shows and their "good guys" with questionable methods for defeating the bad guys.

LET'S STOP.

Let's stop patronizing movies filled with horror and brutality. Let's stop sending our kids off to play video games that corrupt their minds and their view of mankind and sexuality. Let's stop allowing our kids to watch so-called "children's cartoons" that are mindless, vulgar, obnoxious, have bizarre characters and no educational value in basic or social skills. Let's stop watching adult programming with our kids, thinking, oh, it's just a show - a funny show, a good show and start realizing that media can shift their moral compass. Let's stop saying anything goes in the name of ART! and ENTERTAINMENT! Let's boycott this sale of our collective conscience.

Let's talk to our kids more. Eat dinner at the table with no media whatsoever. Take them into nature alot more often. Teach them about God. Teach them how to be social animals face-to-face instead of screen-to-screen. Get back to the promise land of programming like PBS. Let us communicate our family values.

Let's try, for all that is good in the human race, so that when they see evil, crime and horror, our kids can cry; they can feel it deeply and want to combat it with love, light and justice.

Come on. We can do it. It may be damn hard, but I believe in us. I have hope. And so do you.