Response to Anne on Jesus Camp

Okay, the third time I tried writing this. Anne Marie said this. To which Jaime brilliantly replied this. In response to an up coming documentary called Jesus Camp.


So what's my take? I find that stuff scary, repulsive and...scary. I feel so bad for those kids, they're growing up learning to hate other religious traditions, to see that confrontation not dialogue is love and to see time as running out so patience is not a virtue anymore, especially when it comes to people's souls. This is so the opposite of what I want my girls to grow up with, and it's part of the anxiety I have with our current main stream evangelical church. They don't talk in the rhetoric that is seen in the clips from the video, if they did I would run for the hills, but they do constantly push "making a choice for Jesus..." getting your friends to "make a choice for Jesus..." and all that other evangelistic rhetoric that I'm very uncomfortable with.

We often find ourselves correcting certain aspects of the church's teaching, and one of my greatest fears is that she grows up to be like them (as in sign on their dotted theological line). So why do we go there? They fit a need that we had when we left our old church. They were huge so you could get lost if you wanted to, but they also had lots of kids for our girls to play with, and they have so much fun. And even though I disagree with some of what the church teaches, I love the people. They are genuine in their belief and sincere in their love for other people, and if the church leaders would help facilitate it, they have the money, resources and desire to make a huge difference for the poor people on the west side of Columbus

For our kids, I want them to grow up and love all people regardless of their religion, etc. I want them to respect all forms of spirituality that are positive and acknowledge those forms that are negative. I would love for them to grow up directly following the teachings of Christ, but if they grow up and choose a different tradition, I hope they continue caring for the poor and needy, fighting injustice and loving and respecting all people. That's my main goal for them. I don't have verses(sorry Jaime!) not because they don't exist, but I don't have the time or desire to find them.

Anne's post sparked a lot of other ideas which I'll write on later, but she wanted direct feedback on what we do/desire for our kids. So there you go.

P.S. I echo Jaime's apology for being a self-righteous bitch (maybe that doesn't work for me. Anne, just insert your own gender appropriate cuss word for me). I'm sorry I made you feel guilty, unable to speak your mind and disagree. I'm sorry for anything we've done that wasn't truly loving you, but seeking out a righteous image. NOW, we don't judge anything you do and part of why I am honest with you about so much of my questions is because I want to correct all that image, judgment, etc. Truly sorry.

Something I Learned About Myself Today

3 years after my mother died from cancer, I'm still not okay with it. I wish she were around to see all her grandkids, to see me in grad school to see the wonderful women that her two girls are becoming. I try to put her death in perspective, like it happened for a reason, but I fail to see it directly. I try to think of her in a better place or at the least not suffering anymore and the only thing that's driving these bouts of depression and missing her is my own selfishness so I should just get the hell over it and move on. Okay...fine.

But then I think that it was a hellish end of her life. Emaciated and in constant pain using all of her strength just to be lucid. Why did it have to be like that? But isn't that the way most people die? Even in its most beautiful circumstances Death is horribly ugly...it's scary...Maybe there is a lesson learned in the suffering of death and dying, perhaps it is the greatest lesson to be learned and we can't learn it until that time comes. Perhaps it is my own inability to suffer that drives this questioning and this pain and if I would just accept suffering as a part of life, then I would get better.

I guess that leads me to my current conclusion about the purpose of suffering and dying. Suffering has no purpose unless we give it one. That is, if the suffering that I go through because my mother died from cancer without being able to see her grandchildren grow up has no effect upon my life then it has no purpose. I have not given it any. However if it drives me to visibly change my life as a result of that suffering then it has a purpose, because I have instilled it with a purpose. Otherwise, I'm not sure I can find a reason for all the suffering around me right now.

Death, as far as I can tell, could have two possible reasons. The first is, as I mentioned above, that death is the ultimate suffering and must have some ultimate lesson behind it, if we allow it to have that effect. Second is that death is really the biggest reminder that we are not God. In the Genesis story the only difference between the Divine and Humanity is initially that people didn't know the difference between good and evil. Once that knowledge was gained, God decided that the new difference would be that people would now have to face death. So dying reminds us that we are not the Divine. Perhaps that is the lesson to be learned from it, perhaps it is something else...I don't know.

Welcome Isabe!!

Jaime's birthday just became that much more exciting for the family, because now there's two birthdays to celebrate! My brother, Ben and his wife Julie welcomed their first child, Isabel Florence Kessler. Congrats to all, and Crazy Uncle Ben (as my kids call him) gets to become Crazy Daddy!! MAZEL TOV!

Happy Birthday Jaime!

I'm totally not good at this stuff, but it's Jaime's birthday today! I really can't imagine a better woman to be married to. Her compassion and care for other people puts me to shame. I can't be more grateful for all of her patience with everything I put her through in the past few years. After nearly 11 years of marriage, I'm discovering that what Jaime said last night is true: Women do get better with age.

The perks of part time work...

I get to see where the kids play during the day....like the top of our closet.

Imagine my surprise when I hear coming from the closet, "Daddy I'm up high! Come see!" And so I see this little head poking our from behind our old changing table. And she says, "Look! I a big kid! I touching the ceiling!" ahh, childhood.

Visiting my Roots

I have a little anxiety about a trip we're taking this next week. The family and I will be on our way to Greenville, SC on Saturday. Why are we going to the bastion of conservative right-wing Christian fundamentalism? That's a good question, all I can offer as an answer is family.

My grandmother is somewhere around 93 years old and has been guilt tripping me about not visiting in South Carolina for the past four years. Really I haven't been able to afford the trip down; I needed the money from work and I've never had a job that had vacation time in the last few years so the question was moot. But now I'm not in school anymore, I don't really have a full time job that missing a few days would kill me, I have some money in the bank so, if it's going to happen at all, now is the time to do it.

The problem is that everyone else from my family (except for me and my brother) have gone to Bob Jones University for college. Heck one of my uncle's teaches at the University, so needless to say, I'm a bit of an outsider there. Which means I'll be spending a week in the most awkward and painful of situations for me. I can't disagree with my grandmother because she's 93 years old, and so set in her ways that arguing anything with her is pointless. Not only that but the last time my dad and I had a theological parting of the ways, I was hit with an onslaught of letters discussing how angry I am and how I'm such a sinner and that she's praying for me...I really don't need that right now.

Anyway, so I'm visiting the territory of the country targeted by Christian Exodus for a new "Christian" government (since when is the right to bear arms a Christian doctrine?) so I can't bring my normal reading books, unless their titles are vague enough...any suggestions on readings that might get past the Bob Jones editorial board?

The Family

With my brother Ben having joined the fray here at Luther's Monkey, it is time for me to lay out the schematics of my family.

Ben is the only one of my siblings that needs to be explained as my step-brother (either that or I was such an SOB the parents wanted to try for a different Ben--which, if you know my violent past, is a possibility) but in my family there's no such thing as a step-sibling. We all call each other brothers and sisters except when it gets to the two Ben's. That's when everything falls apart.

To help clear up the confusion the family tacked on the initial of our last names. I was Ben I, and he was Ben K. This was fine for everyone else, but Ben and I really weren't too keen on this idea. I argued nobly that I was the older Ben so I should get first dibs on being just plain Ben and he should be Ben K. I forget exactly Ben's argument but I'm sure it was something horribly nefarious. Either way, it was a draw and the initials stood. (Although, frankly, Ben The Other--as he's been calling himself in the comments--is a pretty good designation--I wish I thought of that one).

There was the phase when all the kids were given nick-names (was it Jennifer who started that?) and I got the misnomer: Benign, and Ben received the worst of them all: Bengay. I can still remember the conversations trying to get him to buy into it. "It doesn't mean you're gay...it's like the medicine! You know...it's like saying your healing, helpful...Or it could mean gay in the happy sense! You're the happy Ben! Ok?" Needless to say this didn't go over too well.

Then came the summer when I was Big Ben and he was Little Ben. But he was already taller than me (most people are) and these names quickly fell by the wayside.

Anyway, I thought a break down of the family might be helpful to all those confused people who are not related to me--

The Siblings:
Jennifer, Brad, Sam, Ben, Ben (The Other), Anne, Mandy

• Jennifer, Sam and Ben (The Other) are my step-siblings
  
• Brad is my full brother from our mom's first marriage.
• Our mom and my step-siblings' dad got married and had Anne and Mandy.

The Next Generation:
Moira, Evie, Inga, Andrei, Alex, Elena and coming soon: Bulie!

• Jaime and I were the first to get married (when we were about 12 years old or something), and we had Moira and Evie
• Jennifer then got married to Dan and adopted Inga, Andrei, Alex and Elena (all in the span of about 5 minutes--or so it seemed).
• Ben (The Other) met and married the charming Irish lass Julie and they are now expecting their first child who, as of right now, prefers to go by Bulie.
  

When you add in Anne and Mandy's boyfriends (Ben and Tim, respectively--yes another Ben with the same middle name as Ben K.) needless to say, keeping things straight during family get togethers can be pretty crazy. Fun...but crazy.

Everyone is probably more confused than ever, but that's really the best I can do.

Mike and Ike

With my graduation finally approaching, I have been missing my mom lately. She died about 2 1/2 years ago from cancer. At Christmas that year she was fine and we were arguing over how I celebrate Christmas; that January, after going to the doctor for a cold that wouldn't go away, she was diagnosed with stage 4 melanoma and given a few months to live. She lasted around 8. When my family goes through major milestones (my little sister's high school graduation, another sister's near marriage, etc) or even just holidays her absence is especially difficult.

The other night we were at the store grabbing a few things for dinner and we saw they were selling Mike and Ike candies by the check-out. There was a running gag in my Mom's house about this candy. It was one of her favorites because my Dad's nickname was Ike, and her second husband's name was Mike so the candy seemed to fit her life. Jaime and I saw these on sale and couldn't resist buying a box in memory of her--a tongue in cheek tribute that she would have appreciated.

I'd wanted to visit her grave stone lately and seeing that stupid candy inspired a spontaneous trip. So while the cashier was ringing up the groceries Moira and I ran back to pick out some roses. What the heck, dinner can wait--lets go for a drive. Dinner turned into tortilla chips and Mike and Ikes eaten in the car.

Once there we started weeding some dandelions and cleaning the stone. Evie thought she would help by stomping on a few ants crawling on the headstone. We told Evie about her Grandma that she'll never remember. We pointed to each of the letters in my mom's name and Evie named them. "Now Grandma knows how smart you are." We put down the roses and ate our candy. Then we just stood there not really knowing what to do.

One of the biggest regrets I have in my life is how I treated those last eight months she was alive. I said some things that shouldn't have been said, and even though I tried to visit as often as I could, it doesn't seem like enough. As I was standing there, all I could think was to say I'm sorry and hope that the dead can forgive.

I was glad we went that night. Moira said going there made her feel closer to her grandma. Even though she was barely five when my mom died it was really hard for her. But I'm glad she has the memories she does. I only wish they'd had time to make more.

Sorry for the depressing post, but I just had to get it out there.

It's Mandy"s Birthday

Yes, Yes, today is the Birthday of the youngest of us kids, Mandy. She was always the one reading or chatting with her friends even while the rest of us were fighting each other in Mario Kart or some such nonsense. One of the few people to have always been totally supportive of me and Jaime in our marriage and descisions. She's been a great sister to have around, even when she's not!

Other eulogies...uh, remembrances....I mean stories of our still living little sister you can go to Jaime's blog or Brad's blog. I'm really not good at this stuff so Mandy...


HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!

and I can't believe you're 20!! Mazel Tov!

It's Contagious

Jaime's been lusting after my blog since the moment I started it. (Actually, she was gut-wrenchingly nervous and neurotic about it. "People are going to see this!?!")

But now she's gotten over it and has started her own. No joke.

Sociology Without a License

Wow! 6 days without a post! You might think this means I have a life. But no, my friends, no; it’s just the end of the quarter. This means I have three papers due all at the same time and two finals to get ready for, which means no life for me and no time to post. Actually, as I’m writing this, I am skipping my Prophets class, but that’s not so bad because I’m just auditing it. But anyway, I’m glad this quarter is almost done.

Of course, it’s not like I’ve actually been doing any school work either. I’ve been dutifully procrastinating with Muppet movies, Lord of the Rings and reading books that are unrelated to school. I’ve discovered that ignoring your school work doesn’t make it any easier the night before it’s due, and the resulting depression just makes things even worse.

But through this procrastination I have made some interesting sociological insights into my family.

1. Evie cannot comprehend Muppets. (Heck, she can’t even say Muppets. She keeps talking about Muffins.) She was introduced to the Muppets via the Great Muppet Caper. We were at a Hebrew class party at Jessica’s house and, being good parents, we were downstairs playing Trivial Pursuit while she was upstairs watching a DVD by herself. Well, not really by herself, because she kept yelling downstairs “I need you!” and one of us (actually mostly Jessica) would run upstairs to support her in her Muffin watching. During one of these “I need you times” we had a touching father-daughter talk about Muppets.

Evie – “I scared.”
Me – “They can’t get hurt. They’re just puppets.
Evie – “No, them like cartoons, but them real . . .
Me – “No, they’re puppets; people’s hands are inside moving them—like this (insert very well done impression of moving a puppet)
Evie – “But I can see all of them. I can see them legs.”
Me – “Well, they’re puppets, they’re not real, so you don’t have to be scared.

(Here’s where I can’t explain something so, after a little more comfort time, I just pat her leg and walk away. How can you see all of them move anyway? Jim Henson, that evil wizard!)


2. Moira doesn’t like Muppets. Something deep in the core of her being says that talking animals are weird, just weird. She was close to being won over by Miss Piggy’s synchronized swimming scene. And she was sucked in by the escape from jail and showdown with the bad guys stealing the Great Baseball Diamond. But still there are lingering doubts. She just needs time.


3. Although Jaime likes Muppets, she does not like Fantasy. No one should ever watch a fantasy movie with Jaime. Perhaps she was scarred by her obsession with fantasy and science fiction in her early years, I don’t know, but I do know that watching Lord of the Rings with her was NOT fun. Some comments included “This is so stupid--It’s just a ring, people!” “Why can’t wizards fly? What’s the point of being a wizard if you can’t fly?” “I thought elves were little. Aren’t elves supposed to be little?” “This movie is so racist. All the “good” people are white and all the evil things are dark skinned. What is this—some sort of Nazi propaganda? Aryans conquering the evil less than human indigenous monsters who would take over the world if we don’t stop them?!?” (Actually, I was starting to think the same thing before she said that. I was a little worried that we were on the same wavelength.)
She basically talked through the whole thing. Now we have the next two of the trilogy and I think I’ll tie her up and gag her. (And, yes, this is the FIRST time we have seen Lord of the Rings. This is also due to Jaime and her everyone-else-is-doing-it-so-why-should-I attitude. This is usually something I love about her, but when I want to watch a movie, it gets annoying.)


Wow, after all that I just realized that when I’ve run out of movies and books to procrastinate with, I can always write an overly long, pointless post for my blog. Life is good.

Why We Homeschool and Why You Shouldn't Ask

Yesterday Jaime was talking to a friend of a friend. She had known this person for about 5 minutes. Those first 5 minutes after meeting someone have become agonizing because in that first 5 minutes these polite social questions are asked--"What are your girls' names?" "How old are they?" "What grade is Moira in?" "What school does she go to?" Then the person finds out we homeschool and 9 times out of 10 the conversation takes a turn for the worse. Things go from polite to probing to annoying to (sometimes) infuriating.

"Why do you homeschool?" "How do you know what to teach?" "Do you have a teaching degree?" "What curriculum do you buy?" "How do you know you're staying at grade level?" "Does the state monitor what you do?" "Who checks your portfolio?" "Doesn't she miss being around her friends during the day?" "Do you put her in outside classes?" "How long do you think you'll do this?" "When do you think you'll reach your limit on what you can teach?"
In between these questions come the opinions (and everyone who asks these questions has a lot of opinions).

During these interrogations we politely answer the questions. We are not rude. We do not ask questions like "Why do you put your children in public/private school?" "How long do you intend to keep them there?" "What are the class sizes?" "In what colleges or universities were the teachers educated?" "Do the teachers all have Masters degrees?" "What kind of continuing education is required for the teachers?" "How do you make sure your children are being taught to their potential?" "How many times a week do they have gym/music/art class?" "What kind of field trips do they take?" "Do you enroll them in outside classes?" "How long do you think you'll be able to help them with their homework--when will you be over your head?"

No, we do not do that, because that would be absurd. That would be invasive, rude and downright strange. AND YET this is what we get ALL THE TIME. And this is what Jaime got yesterday from the friend of a friend who thought that because we homeschool we must explain ourselves to her and to the rest of the world.

We decided a long time ago that this sort of thing must stop, but we've never been able to create that one sentence that says "we do not need to explain ourselves to you" in a nice, polite, friendly yet firm way. We scratched the "Why the hell do you care?" response. We thought "What is wrong with you?" was a little aggressive. And "Do you even realize how rude you're being right now?" could be alienating. So we're up for suggestions.

It's important not to make this some sort of defensive attack because most of the people asking these questions aren't mean people; they're just oblivious. Jaime genuinely liked this friend of a friend after they got beyond the homeschool gauntlet. We don't want to blow people away, we just want to lovingly shut them up.

And don't get me wrong, I don't want to make homeschooling an off limits subject. Feel free to ask me questions about it, just not in the first five minutes. I'd love to have an actual discussion about it if you're really interested and if we actually know each other. But save your questions if you're just using them to express your prefabricated opinions.

(Oh, and the title of this post suggests that I will explain why we homeschool, but, after all I've said, I really don't need to answer that question, now do I?)

A New Family Member!?!

Yes, you may not have known that we were expecting, but a new bundle of joy has entered our house. His name is Mr. Spot. He's a rat, and I have to say he's pretty darn cute. He really belongs to my friend Jessica, but she's on a trip to California to visit her husband in Santa Barbara, and we have the honor of rat sitting.

We first met Mr. Spot when we went over to Jessica's house for dinner. The girls played with him so much that, when Jessica took him out after we left so he could get some exercise, he curled up on her lap and went to sleep instead. It was that fateful night that he received his name; Mr. Spot was Moira's idea. I think Evie's idea was "rat."

So Jessica thought it would be a good idea for our girls to help keep an eye on him while she was gone. And they were excited to do it. All week, all we heard was, "We're getting to watch Mr. Spot! Is today when Mr. Spot's coming?" We're going over to a small group meeting for church tonight and Moira will get to see a good friend of her's (who happens to also have a room packed floor to ceiling with dolls). Is she excited to go to her friend's house? Yes....BUT....when she woke up this morning and asked if we knew what today was, it was NOT the day she gets to see her friend Jenny, no it's the day Mr. Spot is coming.

So we have a rat for 5 days (until Sunday) and hopefully this doesn't cause a rat craze leading to a rat of our own. Personally, between my dog and my daughters constantly popping their heads up by the cage to see our visitor, I'd be surprised if we didn't take at least one year off the poor guy's life. It's sad, but I don't know if our home is fit for rats.

And, Jessica, if you're reading this right now...I'm sorry, really sorry.

The Hidden Costs of Elmer's Glue

I must preface this story by admitting--as my wife so kindly pointed out to me--that if I had just hung up my coat last night none of this would have happened. But instead I unknowingly laid it down right on top of our children's drying art work. And three year olds use a lot of glue.


So this morning--minutes before I need to leave to catch my bus--I found this


stuck to the sleeve of my coat. Not just stuck--really stuck. So stuck that removing it was also removing bits of my coat. So Jaime decided she would try to steam the glue loose. But while it's steaming the coat actually dipped into the water and, although the paper and glue is gone, some sort of sponge effect happened and now my coat is soaking wet from the elbow down.

The coat's made of something in between suede and regular leather and it's going to take a long time to dry. Meanwhile it's 25 degrees outside and I do a whole lot of walking in order to get to my classes, classes that I am now skipping because I don't think Greek is worth freezing to death over. Hebrew, now that's another story. So I'm sitting here hoping my coat will dry by 2:30 or desert winds blow in from the Sahara and get things above 32 degrees.

So the moral of this sad story is either:

1. Don't be a slob--hang up your coat.

or

2. Don't let your kids use Elmer's glue.

You decide but my vote's on 2.

It's Beautiful!!!

This week my landlord finally came through. Our new fridge has arrived.

For about a year and a half we've dealt with the ex-fridge. It was old, it was rusty, it was loud, the light socket wouldn't work and it dripped water all over any food too close to the back.

Now we have the uber fridge. It is clean, it is quiet, the light works, it does not drip and it is huge. Now we need more food because it looks too empty. During the winter Jaime doesn't like to go to the store. And when we do go to the store she doesn't want to be there for very long so we purchase about 3 items. This doesn't make sense because you then have to go out the next day and get more food thus creating more trips out into the cold. She resolves this issue by just sending me.

So I plan to buy a lot of perishable items and pack out my bright shiny miracle of modern science as soon as possible. I love refrigeration!

Oh The Places You'll Go!

Being a starving student trying to support a family of four on grants, scholarships and school loans means that sometimes you just can't travel. Okay always you just can't travel. The car is in good enough shape to take you around town but that's about it. At the end of every quarter, you start wondering where all the money went and if you'll be able to pay rent on time (so far so good!). Which means that while you may want to take the family to visit India, Australia, Europe heck even Canada it just can't be done.

But my family doesn't complain about not being able to travel. No, we travel vicariously....Through travel shows. It's true I don't have a TV, but I can play DVD's on my computer and we have become hooked on this series called Globe Trekker. With the aid and expertise of professional travelers we have seen the world! Heck, now I don't need to go to India and suffer from Dehli Belly! My friend Megan did it for me! Want to be bored in the "fabulous" wine country of France? Don't bother, Justine's been there and she'll tell you all about it! Why mess with the hot sticky deserts (not to mention all that poisonous stuff) of Australia's outback when Ian and friends have experienced it for you, and you don't have to leave the comfort of your own home.

Really, it's better than actually being there! It's cheaper (you can get it for free from your local library), you don't have to worry about plane crashes, custom officials and spending way too much money for cheap touristy gifts for your friends and family! Yes, I'd say it's the way to go! The travel of the future!....Really!....Okay, I'm lying I'd much rather be there, but hey I can't yet, so this will have to do!

So here's a little intro to our favorite trekkers. They've become like members of our family all due to my inadequacy as a bread winner.


Ian Wright: With his cockney accent, willingness to do anything and love of harrasing strangers he's one entertaining chap.

Favorite Moment: Australia: When he pats the stomach (for just a little too long to be okay) of the Outback Ranger who took away his fruit contraband.

Quote: "I wish I had a lava burn mark on my arm to boast about in the pub."



Justine Shapiro: She has raised grumbling to an art form. And sometimes the crass things that come out of her mouth are amazing. She doesn't mock someone in every episode, but when she does it's quite a treat.

Favorite Moment: Turkey: When she's about to take a drink from a bucket full of fresh sheep's milk and realizes it has poo in it. "MMMmmmMMM"

Quote: "I'VE LANDED!" (Cheerfully jumping on one of the D-Day beaches in Normandy, France.)




Megan McCormick: The consummate traveler--a real professional. Never whines, always enthusiastic--perhaps too perky at times but that's usually when the show gives her enough money to sleep somewhere without cockroaches--so who can blame her.

Favorite Moment: Beijing: When she tours a warehouse full of art and asks the artist why all his characters are always smiling. "....Because they're happy."

Quote: "I promise I won't look up your kilt."

"Hey You Poor Hungry People of the World--Pluto is Important!!!!!"

NASA's top climate scientist says the Bush administration is trying to censure him after he gave a lecture which included a call to use available technology to reduce greenhouse gases and stop global warming before it's too late.

I'm sure he's right, but that's not the point. The point is--what the heck did NASA ever do for the environment? They send up enormous shuttles using fuel tanks bigger than my neighborhood, they toss space trash while they're up there and they spend massive amounts of money on absolutely nothing!!!

Take Pluto for example. Someone got this bright idea--"Pluto is important. Let's explore Pluto. Let's spend 700 MILLION dollars exploring Pluto!" And other people who like to spend other people's money said "That is a great idea. We especially like the 700 million dollar part!"

Yet we have this global warming problem--not a problem, but according to NASA, a crisis! And, according to NASA, the Bush administration should do something about it! I know! How about canceling the Pluto project and spending 700 million dollars buying people hybrid cars? Or we could spend 700 million dollars making other "available energy saving technologies" actually available to the average person. Or maybe we could just spend 700 million dollars making the world we have a better place to live in. We could feed the hungry, educate the poor, create jobs and homes for the homeless... I could find 700 million better ways to spend 700 million dollars. Heck, even buying the world a coke is a better idea than exploring Pluto!

To get a different perspective on this I talked to my seven year old. She has spent hours reading about space, space missions, space stations. She wants to go to space camp when she's old enough. She's gone on fake missions on the NASA website, she knows what to do if she needs to bail out of a spacecraft during takeoff or re-entry, she knows how to find water in the desert in case that's where she lands, she knows all the stuff the astronauts have in those orange suits AND YET this is how the conversation went.

Me-- "Moira, they're spending 700 million dollars to send this probe thing way out into space to study Pluto. Isn't that cool?"

Moira--"Why? It's just Pluto. They haven't even decided if it's a planet yet."

Out of the mouths of babes . . .

What the . . .?!?

Today we had a surreal family experience. There was shock, terror, surprise, revulsion, and elation all in the span of about 30 seconds.

I had just walked in the door and I see Jaime reading to the kids on the couch. Suddenly Moira lets out a gasp. Everyone turns to see her looking up with a horrified expression. Following her gaze we see, hovering in the air, a meaty looking spider slowly lowering itself from the ceiling-- directly above Jaime. Now everyone else gasps and we have one of those time-is-frozen moments where no one moves even though we really want to. Then Evie screams.

That's when Jaime comes to her senses and checks the thing out to make sure it's no Brown Recluse--that wife of mine is always thinkin'. Spider's safe so she grabs the spider silk and begins to escort the evil thing somewhere away from our precious children.

That's when things got really weird.

There was my wife holding an invisible thread, there was the spider swinging through the air, there was my dog, Stella, watching everything and then GULP! no more spider. One crunchy doggy snack.

On one hand we were glad the spider was no longer there and yet . . . that was gross. We didn't know whether to puke or congratulate her.

It was just one of those moments you walk away from shaking your head.

Just thought I'd share.

Ode to Jaime

I was talking to a friend of mine at work yesterday about love and marriage and kids and all that kinda' stuff, and I've been thinking about our conversation since then. One thing occurs to me, and, if you know me, you know I always say this, but I love my wife. We've been married for over 10 years now (for those of you doing the quick math that means I was 19 and she was 18) and every year I become more grateful for her.

Over the last 3 years I have put her probably through some of the hardest stuff we've ever gone through. 3 years ago, I was working for Bank One (now Chase) one of the largest banks in the U.S. making fairly descent money. Now I'm a student finishing up my undergrad at Ohio State....that is to say broke. But she doesn't complain (unless something happens that just emphasizes how broke we are). The other day she actually said she liked what we have going right now.

Last year we left this really small church (read 18 members) that we'd been attending for like 9 years, which was really hard and painful especially for her. She could've said, "That's it! No more!" but she didn't she stuck it out with me, and I couldn't be happier.

Part of why I love her, is that she is content to stay at home and be with our two kids, Moira and Evie. This means she home schools Moira (she's 7; Evie's 3 so she's in that Pre-school stage), tries to keep the house in some sort of order and cooks our food...she's just great! And she loves it! I tell her all the time, she can get a degree if she wants, go back to school like I did, do something else, but she loves what she's doing now (most of the time, anyway) and just laughs at me.


Also the whole Multicultural feel to our house is all about her. She's befriended a Hindi family with two great kids and a Bengali family with a household of ornery kids and hangs out with them. Can they speak English...a little bit, but Jaime is determined to teach it to them, and they want to learn. She tutors their kids in their homework, makes important English based phone calls for them. She loves them so much, it constantly reminds me how much I need to up the ante in that realm for myself.

Well, I've got to get going now. But here's a toast to my wife Jaime, "Thanks for being around for 10 years and here's to many more!" Sorry for feeling all mushy this morning.

The Benefits of Multiculturalism (I think)

The other day my girls were doing what my girls do best—“dress up time.” However, this was at my brother’s house and there weren’t that many dress up options so out came the bed sheets. My seven year old, Moira, made her sheet an “African Princess” skirt. My three year old, Evie, was getting her head shawl or something adjusted when she said “That like a Muslim.” Muslim. Everyone just looked at each other in disbelief. How is my three year old an expert on Muslim fashion? This particular situation is still a bit of a mystery, however, thanks to my wife, who feels the need to befriend all of our neighbors who don’t speak fluent English, my children are receiving a steady multicultural, multireligious, multisomething education.

For example, Moira and Evie were playing emergency hospital with our neighbor’s little girl. These neighbors are Hindu. Diksha, age three, happened to be the doctor in charge. My wife was teasing her about being such a young doctor and wondering how she squeezed so many years of medical school into her short life. Moira had the answer—“She went to school in her past life.”

Another incident occurred at the zoo where they have placed a statue of the Hindu god Ganesha on the walkway that leads to, of course, the Asian otters and orangutans. In bad taste? I think so. But when we were there with our Hindu neighbors they didn’t see it as disrespectful zoo kitsch—they were rather pleased. My wife’s friend Anita said a prayer and then, oblivious to zoo protocol on flora and fauna, picked a big flower from the landscaping and placed it on the statue. This thrilled Evie who is very keen on picking things in general—flowers, noses, etc. and we had to rush to stop her from following suite. Meanwhile she’s yelling “That your god! That your god!” ON TO THE ASIAN OTTERS, ANYONE?


Meanwhile at our other neighbor’s house my kids drink from mugs that say I Allah and have conversations with six year old, Ariful, about God and church and mosques and why he can’t eat hot dogs because they have pork in them. “But I like hot dogs,” he yells. “You can’t eat them,” yells Moira. “AAAAAAAAAAAA,” he screams. (Maybe we should teach her about all-beef hot dogs.) And these neighbors are from Bangladesh and do not dress in burkas—thus, Evie’s comment—still a mystery.

My wife and I both grew up in basically all-white-all-the-time worlds where our cultural education depended on missionaries and the Cosby Show. So even when some of these situations give us a reason to question our sanity, it is a relief to know our kids are better off in this area than we were.

So my kids love Muslims, love Hindus, love chapatti, hate Christopher Columbus and, thanks to the movie Lagaan, are against mean British colonialists. I think it’s a good start.