The pitter-patter of little carbon footprints

We all amuse ourselves by saying that those of us who have babies are going to outbreed those who don't and take over. But this has been the case for all of history and the reality is that whatever crazy people have money end up in charge. So although this crazy person isn't going to have kids, I'm still scared about the world my kids are going to grow up in because of people like her. When people buy into faith-based initiatives like global warming, what's to stop them from, say, imposing penalties on couples who exceed environmentally-safe numbers of children a generation from now? Will we get a religious exemption, or will the "scientific" principles behind the religion of environmentalism be too urgent to allow for other beliefs? But I do get a kick out of her perceived persecution for the life she's chosen. Cute how she thinks she's in the minority and I think I am.

Book Review (Genre:Horror)

'Round here, we don't watch horror flicks. Even disregarding any possible theological, moral, or aesthetic objections, there's the simple fact that I'd be a basket case for months if ever I were to watch one. We do watch movies, though our wild Friday nights are more often spent catching up on some reading (seems safe enough, right?).

But after reading Boys adrift: The five factors driving the growing epidemic of unmotivated boys and underachieving young men, by Dr. Leonard Sax, I'm starting to think that nonfiction books might be close to slasher films on my taboo list. (And the fact that I'm pregnant with our 3rd boy has, of course, no relevance to any possible accusations of overreaction.)



Briefly, the 5 factors Sax identifies:

1)Changes at School (shift away from sensory learning experience, push for earlier reading/curriculum, emphasis on feelings rather than appropriate competition)

2)Video games (which provide a medium--unfortunately not a real one!--for the frustrated competitive urges)

3)ADHD Medications (as he sees it, overprescribed in order to compensate for the educational situations identified in factor 1. Some really scary research cited here.)

4)Endocrine Disruptors (particularly anything in a boy's environment that functions as an estrogen, like the phthalates in plastic. More on this in a minute)

5)Lack of clear, transitional manhood rituals in American culture (i.e. prolonged adolescence).

So these are all scary. But you can DO something about most of them. #1--Try homeschooling, changing schools/being a very involved parent, delaying your boys' start for a year or more. #2--Well, duh. Don't let them play so much (or at all). #3--Be sure the meds are absolutely necessary for your son. Try everything else first (Sax offers a lot of suggestions on this.) #5--Surround your boys with solid male role models (historical as well as present) and make expectations clear.

But #4--now, that's Really Scary.

Consider:
"...evidence that some characteristics of modern life--factors found literally in the food we eat and the water we drink--may have the net effect of emasculating boys."

"...the average young man today has a sperm count less than half of what his grandfather had at the same age."

"...a young boy today has bones that are significantly more brittle than a boy of the same age thirty years ago."

"Mothers with high levels of phthalates in their system were roughly ten times more likely to give birth to boys whose genitals showed subtle anomalies."

Now, we could go on about the excess hormones from birth control pills, patches, etc. being flushed into our water system. And that's a problem. But even scarier were the parts about pregnant women drinking bottled water or soft drinks and babies using pacifiers and bottles. I freaked since Boy #2 still sleeps with his pacifier (I know, I know...chastise me later) and tried to do a bit more research, finding that pacifiers and many teething toys are now PVC free. But some of Sax's solutions seem a bit impractical for a growing family, for a variety of reasons. Um, glass baby bottles? What about sippy cups? And would it really be a good idea for Mom's emergency water bottle in the diaper bag to be made of glass?

So here I am, in sleepless suspense. But instead of an ax murderer or vampire around every corner, it's an emasculating endocrine disruptor--and I don't think garlic can do much against those.

Anyone else heard about the evils of plastic? Any solutions?

(N.B.--Girls aren't off the hook either. Sax briefly referenced some really disturbing studies about the effect of these environmental estrogens on early puberty, etc.)

On living with a dude who kills things

Someone from church offered us a free turkey today. The catch is, it's alive. Dad is out looking for an ax to borrow so that he can do away with, pluck, and clean the doomed creature for us to eat the day after tomorrow.

There was a time when I would have gotten snotty about this kind of barbarian behavior. But since we moved here and hunting has become a major part of our lives, I've gotten a real education. Two years in a row now we've gotten 60 pounds of meat for the price of equipment (acquired on the cheap) and a hunting license. My husband goes out for a day or two and somehow turns a live deer into nice, neat, paper-wrapped roasts and tenderloins in my freezer, and over the course of the year grinds and seasons the rest of it into bulk Italian sausage. He does all the work himself; nothing goes through a locker (his dad is a meat cutter and taught him the trade). Frankly, I wish I had some skill that would impress him as much as all this impresses me. Needless to say, this saves us LOTS of money, and also helps keep the local deer population under control. It's much more humane than what happens to animals on a killing floor, and more energy efficient than commercial meat production. Liberals have no idea how green rednecks are.

This is icky, bloody, stinky work that most people in our antiseptic society don't have the stomach for, and thus get high and mighty about not doing. How ridiculous for anyone who isn't a vegetarian. It takes a lot more integrity to harvest your own meat than it does to pick it up off a shelf. Don't get me wrong, I still pick up my fair share off a shelf. But I'm glad that it's 60 pounds and a turkey or two less than I would normally be buying.

(Note: we don't feed game to guests, since we know a lot of people are squeamish about it. Eat here without fear.)

Does this sound familiar or what?

Father Paul actually says one of those things we're all thinking.

How I spent my weekend

1. Hosted a bridal shower at the parish hall (no lame games)
2. Hosted a deer carcass in the minivan (um)
3. Hosted a wedding in the living room (even washed the windows)
4. Hosted various overnight guests here to share the excitement (ignoring the pile of dirty linens staring at me accusingly)

I'm a little tired. My husband really wants me to post a pic of his deer, but it's bloodier than I like for a family blog. Rest assured that Dad is a fine and humane shot and he's kept us in sausage another year (wow—not sure how I would have reacted to that idea in my not-so-distant past). The wedding was my rockin' sister to our rockin' friend, and I just can't describe the joy it brought us to witness a beautiful wedding for two people who know what's right and have orchestrated their lives accordingly. In fact, this was probably the first one I've ever been to. But I'll spare you my sisterly emoting about how great it was and they are. May our gracious God bless me soon to be an aunt! :) :) :)

Look What I Got

Dear Friend:

Thank you for contacting me regarding the Alternative Minimum Tax (AMT). I appreciate hearing from you, and I agree with the notion that the AMT is broken and needs to be fixed.

The AMT has vastly outgrown its original purpose of preventing a handful of wealthy citizens from avoiding the income tax altogether. It has become a stealth tax, an unintended burden which surprises an increasing number of middle-class Americans each year, eroding the value of Nebraska families' deserved tax breaks. I agree that action must be taken to correct this unintended consequence of the AMT's legitimate policy objective of narrowing the tax gap by curbing abusive tax avoidance. As you know, in recent years, the Senate has enacted temporary patch legislation to increase the AMT exemption to prevent the tax from encroaching further on the middle class.

For a more permanent solution, Senators Max Baucus and Charles Grassley, Chairman and Ranking Member, respectively, of the Senate Finance Committee, have introduced the Individual Alternative Minimum Tax Repeal Act of 2007, S. 55, to totally repeal the AMT for individual taxpayers. S. 55 remains before the Finance Committee, of which I am not a member. Please know I will keep your thoughts in mind should S. 55 or similar legislation come before the full Senate for debate.

Thank you again for contacting me. The legislative process will only work with the input of concerned citizens, and I encourage you to continue sharing your views.


Sincerely,

Ben Nelson
United States Senator

So there's nothing he can do for the time being, but wasn't it nice of him to send an email? Shoot, I feel all fuzzy inside. Which I'm sure has nothing to do with the spiked eggnog I'm drinking. Mmmm. Eggnog.

Halftime Report: An Exclusive Interview

Q: So, now that you’re just past the halfway point in this pregnancy, would you say that the womb is half empty or half full?
A: We’ll say half full, if inverse bladder capacity is any indication.

Q: Is this pregnancy already half over or only half over?
A: Only half over, based on the fact that we’re really just beginning to eat like a semi-normal person. Drug-free (off the anti-nausea meds) for just over a fortnight and loving it! But gosh if those first 20 weeks don’t last forever. Hard to believe this kid is only half cooked; shouldn’t he be starting kindergarten soon?

Q: So you think that throwing up four times today and subsisting on animal crackers puts you in the “semi-normal” category?
A: Well, standards around here are low. Besides, we are hoping that history will show today to be a fluke. Before today, I hadn’t thrown up since my in-laws left two weeks ago (pure coincidence, of course).

Q: This being your third pregnancy gig, is the thought of another person inhabiting your inner regions any less strange?
A: Uh, no. We find the thought to be maybe even weirder, now that the first two who were in there are walking around and talking and acting just like little human beings (for better and usually for worse). Weirder, but no less amazing—may we take this opportunity to recommend again National Geographic’s “Biology of Prenatal Development” (referenced in our 11/11 post). We are no great fans of National Geographic’s usual evolutionary-propaganda-drivel, but we are willing to give credit where credit is due.

Q: You really make the most of the royal we, don’t you?
A: Yes, we do. Although we have been known to employ it at other times (rank has its privileges), we feel particularly justified in doing so while pregnant.

Something Sophomoric

Allow me to introduce myself: I am the smart Concordian Sisters’ dumb friend. And now it’s time for (cue echo) Something Sophomoric -ic -ic -ic. With me. Let’s begin:

One thing I have learned more or less from my children is the value of pretending. You know--the fun, fairyland-type pretending that makes us old folk feel young and blithe and makes the wee ones feel warm and fuzzy in the universe?

Yeah . . . doesn't that sound nice? I think I’ll try it sometime.

No, the type of pretending to which I refer is less . . . fun.

Consider the following from Anna Karenina:

". . . an incident had occurred which had utterly shattered the happiness she had been feeling that day, and her pride in her children. Grisha and Tanya [the children] had been fighting over a ball. Darya Aleksandrovna [the mother], hearing a scream in the nursery, ran in and saw a terrible sight. Tanya was pulling Grisha's hair, while he, with a face hideous with rage, was beating her with his fists wherever he could get at her. Something snapped in Darya Aleksandrovna's heart when she saw this. It was as if darkness had swooped down upon her life; she felt that these children of hers, that she was so proud of, were not merely most ordinary, but positively bad, ill-bred children, with coarse, brutal propensities--wicked children."

Isn't that the way it always goes? Well, maybe not for you, but nearly always for me. For instance:

In our house, days usually begin with plenty of warmth and kisses. I love to see my children at the opening of a new day, their skin fresh from sleep and their hair in little tufts. I like to hear them talk ever so seriously about their dreams. I really like their little footie pajama-ed snuggliness and that funny stumbliness that hits once gravity takes effect.

But it doesn’t last, neither their cuteness nor my ability to enjoy them. They don’t spend the early morning hours pummeling one another like those Aleksandrovnawackanawabo children (they save that for just-before-supper-time). But they are wicked in other ways, devious ways, deeply ingrained ways, and the wickedness has a way of flashing out too suddenly, well before we’re much done with those could-be charming “good mornings.”

In turn, I melt down into my selfish, whiny, lazy, slimy, and crazier-than-ever-before self. They had to learn their wickedness from someone, right? And when I forget myself (or rather, remember too well) and stop pretending to be good, loving, wise, fun, compassionate, and motherly, all bleep breaks loose.

See, we moms are privy to people at their worst almost all the time every day. Those who go to offices regularly have the lovely and enviable cushion of social mores to keep people’s wickedness at a relatively low din. Sure, the co-workers may be monsters, but they have to keep it down or they lose their jobs. And no one ever screams that high-pitched, blood-red scream while throwing punches just because the copier is out of toner. (Right?)

Here at home, not so much. These people let it all hang out. They hold no punches. They fear not the reaper. They tell it like their pea-sized little child brains see it. And we moms, sitting innocently or not, doing our work (or not) have to contend with their outbursts all. the. time. What is more, we can’t (shouldn’t) go bezerk and start telling it like our, let’s say, lima bean-sized brains see it; that is not good people-making. It’s our job to see that the outbursts wane, if not stop altogether. To be (Erch! Eck! Gak!) role models. Benevolent queens. Gentle hands, gentle voices, gentle eyes, gentle words.

Thus, I work hard at pretending, at putting on my happy face and repeating: 1. “These children are NOT anarchist, armed, rebel baboons;” and 2. “I am a good mother.” While I am pretending I use a script (and sometimes costume and props) which finds its origin, expectedly, in Proverbs 31.

More on that some other time.

His Holy Bride

Contraception fits somewhere onto the "unchastity" spectrum of sin. I'm still figuring out exactly where. As an adult convert to CSPP, I don't understand it implicitly like I do the sins I grew up with, and it's more insidious anyway.

Pastor Petersen says, "Sexual sins are [more] destructive than other sins because they are most against what God made us to be. They are most reflective of our depravity." I've spent some time pondering why adultery carries the scandal it does, such that (for example) Dorothy Sayers writes on "The Six Other Deadly Sins" and everyone knows exactly what she's getting at. No commandment makes us sit up straighter than the 6th, even though God puts it down toward the bottom of the page. I think this is what Pastor Petersen is getting at, and here is how I understand it: adultery is the most perfect, grotesque anti-icon; the truest picture of sin. Virtue is personified in the virgin, sin is personified in the harlot. The horror of sin is that the Bridegroom finds his beloved in leather and spikes at the trashiest truck stop in town, and she laughs at his anguish. The miracle of justification is that at the marriage feast of the Lamb, the bride wears white without deceit or guile. Her mother doesn't have to comfort her by saying, "It really doesn't mean that anyway." She doesn't think to herself in shame, "I don't deserve this."

I think this is also why female infidelity causes more scandal than male infidelity (historically at least--things have evened up, and even gone too far the other direction in these utterly depraved latter days). We don't have a spiritual schema for male infidelity, because the Bridegroom is always faithful. But how well the Bride knows, and deplores on some level, her own infidelity.

Where does contraception fit into the icon, or the anti-icon? Selfishness and all that, but I still have trouble pinning it down in my mind. I wonder if this is because the Scriptural eschatological icon ends with the marriage feast, the consummation. We don't see how the story continues. All we know is that God's love is by definition incarnational: he gives us his perfect material creation, his Son in the flesh, his Son's body and blood so that we eat and drink the forgiveness of our sins. We know that our Mother, the Church (aka the Bride of Christ), bears sons and daughters of God through Holy Baptism as often as she has opportunity. These things show us that true love naturally manifests itself in real, tangible ways outside of the Lover. But somehow chastity has been reduced to sex, and huge numbers of Christians who wouldn't dream of compromising on the extramarital sex front roll their eyes or get angry when somebody suggests that babies can't be removed from chastity equation.

Help me out here. Pregnant women shouldn't pretend to think (except Reb. Mary, whom we all know to be the brains of this operation, pregnant or otherwise).

Links for the day

First, email your senator and tell him or her to vote for the Saving Families First AMT Relief Act (S. 1851) (unless you really like paying taxes). (HT: National Review)

Then, listen to this with kids out of the room. Hee hee. (HT: my dear and loving husband)