The Concordian Sisters of Perpetual Parturition announce the first annual Conference of the same, to be held concurrently with the Concordia Catechetical Academy Symposium on Catechesis. Agenda items include:
--Chasing babies around
--Asking strangers to constrain escaping babies while Reb. Mary and Rebekah are stuck nursing
--Conducting recon on vehicles of families who have been at this longer than we have
--Thinking, "Do you think we'll end up with that many?"
--Telling the babies, "No one is swimming until Dad gets back. You think I'm getting in a swimming suit? Don't ask again."
--Letting the babies watch TV for once!!!!! Lying on the bed while they do it!
--Taking shameless advantage of Reb. Mary's gracious local connections
--Talking about how no one slept last night since one or more babies in each family can't sleep anywhere other than home
--Joyfully taking the babies to at least one church service where they can see an entire congregation behaving with proper liturgical decorum.
--Muttering about how the string section at said service is lovely but it sure blocks the exit when the baby starts screaming
--Hovering anxiously outside the door at the Kevin Voss presentation on contraception, straining to hear what's going on inside
--Eating LOTS of that potato salad at the Augsburger barbecue
--Having either not enough sunscreen or not enough sweatshirts at the Augsburger barbecue
Keynote address: Oldest Gauntlet baby on the topic of Pegacorns
Response: Mother of the Gauntlets about how we've all heard enough on this topic
And the big question: WILL THE GAUNTLETS BE PREGNANT AGAIN BY THEN?!?!
Registration not required. Look for us at a local playground or somewhere in the seething mass of women and children outside the main ballroom. We will be unwashed.
21 January 2008
19 January 2008
Papa knows worst
So our culture's hostility toward traditional manhood/fatherhood is no secret. We've come to expect that the father-figure in popular sitcoms, movies, etc., will be at best a good-hearted fool, at worst a bumbling idiot, absent, or even malevolent.
But it's always more disturbing to see the man-bashing in children's media. A collection of Berenstain Bears stories recently arrived in our mailbox, a late Christmas present from a well-meaning relative. When the boys opened it, I thought, "Cute. Harmless sort of kids' classic. Looks like lots of them have nice little "morals" about sharing, first trip to the dentist, etc."
Then we read some of the stories. I found myself editing almost every page as I went along (one of the few benefits of having kids who can't read for themselves yet, I suppose).
First, there's the annoyance factor--that there's Mama Bear, Papa Bear, and their two little cubs, Brother Bear and Sister Bear.
But worse is the portrayal of Papa Bear. For instance, in "The Berenstain Bears Forget Their Manners," Mama Bear is trying to civilize her cubs (a worthy pursuit in which we wish her better luck than we ourselves are currently having). As the story begins, Mama Bear "tried going to Papa for help (though it sometimes seemed to Mama that he was part of the problem)."
As I read this, I thought at first it was one of those little inside jokes that children's authors sometimes insert, knowing that the adult reading the story aloud may have a little chuckle, though the kids won't really get it. But as the story unfolds, the truth is more sinister: Papa Bear is shown to be a boorish buffoon who doesn't even realize when he's being hypocritical. I definitely stopped chuckling.
Then in "The Berenstain Bears Get the Gimmies," Papa undermines Mama's every attempt at proper discipline, until the cubs get so unruly that they embarrass him publicly. Then he explodes at them with ineffectual rage, which he follows up with a cliched and equally ineffective lecture. Fortunately, good ol' Gramps and Gran appear on the scene in the nick of time, and a plan is finally worked out.
It's been years since I encountered anything in the BB series aside from the stories in this collection--so if there is anything worthwhile in the series, by all means let me know. But rest assured, this particular volume has been removed from our family library.
But it's always more disturbing to see the man-bashing in children's media. A collection of Berenstain Bears stories recently arrived in our mailbox, a late Christmas present from a well-meaning relative. When the boys opened it, I thought, "Cute. Harmless sort of kids' classic. Looks like lots of them have nice little "morals" about sharing, first trip to the dentist, etc."
Then we read some of the stories. I found myself editing almost every page as I went along (one of the few benefits of having kids who can't read for themselves yet, I suppose).
First, there's the annoyance factor--that there's Mama Bear, Papa Bear, and their two little cubs, Brother Bear and Sister Bear.
But worse is the portrayal of Papa Bear. For instance, in "The Berenstain Bears Forget Their Manners," Mama Bear is trying to civilize her cubs (a worthy pursuit in which we wish her better luck than we ourselves are currently having). As the story begins, Mama Bear "tried going to Papa for help (though it sometimes seemed to Mama that he was part of the problem)."
As I read this, I thought at first it was one of those little inside jokes that children's authors sometimes insert, knowing that the adult reading the story aloud may have a little chuckle, though the kids won't really get it. But as the story unfolds, the truth is more sinister: Papa Bear is shown to be a boorish buffoon who doesn't even realize when he's being hypocritical. I definitely stopped chuckling.
Then in "The Berenstain Bears Get the Gimmies," Papa undermines Mama's every attempt at proper discipline, until the cubs get so unruly that they embarrass him publicly. Then he explodes at them with ineffectual rage, which he follows up with a cliched and equally ineffective lecture. Fortunately, good ol' Gramps and Gran appear on the scene in the nick of time, and a plan is finally worked out.
It's been years since I encountered anything in the BB series aside from the stories in this collection--so if there is anything worthwhile in the series, by all means let me know. But rest assured, this particular volume has been removed from our family library.
We've all been here
Check out this great CSPP conversion story over at Life in Sheet Rock Hills. Big thanks to Kelly for sharing it!
18 January 2008
I'd like to know
what that floating baby over there on the side is going to have to say for himself days-to-go-wise tomorrow? And has anyone else noticed how if you scroll down fast they both go running back into their little bubbles and start floating around innocently as if they haven't been off doing who knows what when we left them alone in cyberspace?
Anyway. My doc and I have agreed to go in after him a week from today if he still hasn't made his appearance by then, which is exactly what happened with the last baby. She's cool with my no pitocin and minimal interference rules (worked great with #3--broke my water at 41 weeks and it was all over 3 1/2 hours later without any other manipulation). Although we'd still prefer to go on Baby's schedule, it was nice not to have to make a bunch of panicked calls to the gracious parishioners who have volunteered their services in the middle of the night last time. So we'll see what happens, and then interrogate 3 and 4 as to what's so great about the place now since the older two made no attempts to overstay their welcome.
Anyway. My doc and I have agreed to go in after him a week from today if he still hasn't made his appearance by then, which is exactly what happened with the last baby. She's cool with my no pitocin and minimal interference rules (worked great with #3--broke my water at 41 weeks and it was all over 3 1/2 hours later without any other manipulation). Although we'd still prefer to go on Baby's schedule, it was nice not to have to make a bunch of panicked calls to the gracious parishioners who have volunteered their services in the middle of the night last time. So we'll see what happens, and then interrogate 3 and 4 as to what's so great about the place now since the older two made no attempts to overstay their welcome.
17 January 2008
The ordering of parsonages
Heard this first one at one of those "Pastors' Wives' Events" put on by districts. I can't remember how it came up, but someone my age contended that since members of their congregation had Direct TV, they (the pastor's family) should be able to have it too, and therefore did. (Moderator manuevered the group into another discussion point.)
Heard this second one from a guy who graduated from seminary with my husband, and whose family, like ours, has essentially no TV (we can get PBS if we take our 13-incher upstairs and doctor it with half a roll of foil). "There are members of our congregation who can't afford cable," he explained, "so why should we have it?"
Both of these families were at small, traditional, ruralish parishes, so this isn't a backdoor criticism of Gloria Mea 6.022x1023 Christian Entity lcms. They're both very far from rolling in cash. I'm not saying there isn't room for some of the reasoning behind the first perspective; the worker is worthy of his hire. But it seems to me like Family #2 is setting themselves up for more contentment, whate'er the gifts may be. I found the humble view of the father who shared it, especially his willingness to compare down rather than comparing up, to be a nice break from the usual griping about the district-minimum-if-you're-lucky lifestyle we all volunteered for by showing up on Call Day.
Heard this second one from a guy who graduated from seminary with my husband, and whose family, like ours, has essentially no TV (we can get PBS if we take our 13-incher upstairs and doctor it with half a roll of foil). "There are members of our congregation who can't afford cable," he explained, "so why should we have it?"
Both of these families were at small, traditional, ruralish parishes, so this isn't a backdoor criticism of Gloria Mea 6.022x1023 Christian Entity lcms. They're both very far from rolling in cash. I'm not saying there isn't room for some of the reasoning behind the first perspective; the worker is worthy of his hire. But it seems to me like Family #2 is setting themselves up for more contentment, whate'er the gifts may be. I found the humble view of the father who shared it, especially his willingness to compare down rather than comparing up, to be a nice break from the usual griping about the district-minimum-if-you're
15 January 2008
Baby Boomlet
According to this, "more American babies were born in 2006 than any year since 1961."
We must be contagious :)
Looks like a mixed bag of news, though. (As usual.)
We must be contagious :)
Looks like a mixed bag of news, though. (As usual.)
14 January 2008
That vocation thing
Among the most recent batch of books to arrive on our doorstep was Gilbert Meilaender's The Freedom of a Christian: Grace, Vocation, and the Meaning of our Humanity. Perhaps because his arms are longer, or perhaps because I'm moving a little slower in the third tri, my husband got his hands on it first. But he has abided by the household rule of sharing choice tidbits.
So these excerpts are all I've read of the book so far, but they caught my attention, so I'll go ahead and post them. (Just don't ask me for more context yet.)
"A vocation exacts a price, and not all can pay it. Even though it may seem to draw us, its point is not happiness. It is, as C.S. Lewis notes, the nature of vocation to appear simultaneously both as desire and as duty. 'To follow the vocation does not mean happiness; but once it has been heard, there is no happiness for those who do not follow'" (105).
This resonating with anyone else?!
And:
"Do you want to know what is your vocation? Then the first question to ask is not, "What do I want to do with my life?" It is not as if I first come to know myself and then choose a vocation that fulfills and satisfies me. For it is only by hearing and answering the divine summons, by participating in my calling, that I can come to know who I am. We are not who we think we are; we are who God calls us to be" (106).
More:
"The story of Jesus's own obedience makes it clear that what looks like an annihilation of the self may, in fact, be its enlargement. We flourish as we answer obediently God's call" (108-109).
I found this last to be especially meaningful, as I've lately been looking into the Scriptural perspective on the whole idea of "self-esteem"/pride in all its manifestations, both subtle and overt. Seems pretty clear: if we're navel-gazing, we're missing it, completely. Our life is found in the death of self: baptized into Christ's death, we rise from the waters in His life! Apart from Christ, we have no life. What looks like the annihilation of self (e.g., CSPP) is the annihilation of self--and the only means to life.
Anyway. Nothing y'all don't already know, but I wanted to share the quotes.
So these excerpts are all I've read of the book so far, but they caught my attention, so I'll go ahead and post them. (Just don't ask me for more context yet.)
"A vocation exacts a price, and not all can pay it. Even though it may seem to draw us, its point is not happiness. It is, as C.S. Lewis notes, the nature of vocation to appear simultaneously both as desire and as duty. 'To follow the vocation does not mean happiness; but once it has been heard, there is no happiness for those who do not follow'" (105).
This resonating with anyone else?!
And:
"Do you want to know what is your vocation? Then the first question to ask is not, "What do I want to do with my life?" It is not as if I first come to know myself and then choose a vocation that fulfills and satisfies me. For it is only by hearing and answering the divine summons, by participating in my calling, that I can come to know who I am. We are not who we think we are; we are who God calls us to be" (106).
More:
"The story of Jesus's own obedience makes it clear that what looks like an annihilation of the self may, in fact, be its enlargement. We flourish as we answer obediently God's call" (108-109).
I found this last to be especially meaningful, as I've lately been looking into the Scriptural perspective on the whole idea of "self-esteem"/pride in all its manifestations, both subtle and overt. Seems pretty clear: if we're navel-gazing, we're missing it, completely. Our life is found in the death of self: baptized into Christ's death, we rise from the waters in His life! Apart from Christ, we have no life. What looks like the annihilation of self (e.g., CSPP) is the annihilation of self--and the only means to life.
Anyway. Nothing y'all don't already know, but I wanted to share the quotes.
13 January 2008
Women of cover
(Update: as everyone at church observed this morning, I'm still here. My doc, however, informs me that I am in imminent danger of having a baby at any moment, so get ready. Now back to our regularly scheduled programming.)
I like clothes. Not buying them, wearing them. Says so right here we should. Shame, like pain in childbearing, is something we picked up along with sin. This is why I reserve my right to find labor not only painful, but humiliating. I know, I know--doctors and nurses have seen it all. There's no other way to do it. But I don't like trying to be talked out of my embarrassment over the whole thing. Yes, it does bother me, a LOT, even in my least analytical moments of labor. Yes, everyone has told me male doctors are nicer, but I just can't deal with the idea, so I'll stick with the mean girls. And I would really, really like for someone to explain to me why there always seem so many people there just watching the show. Back to the nurses' station with you! Don't you have some annoying patient to complain about together? That would be more fun.
For those of us who wish wearing a burka wouldn't give the wrong confessional impression: it's ok to feel bad about the sartorial necessities of childbirth. It's sad that we do, but it's also sad that the whole thing hurts so bloody much. Nobody would try to tell you it doesn't hurt, or it doesn't matter that it hurts. And I think it's fair to say that if your modesty hurts too, it just shows that your sin-damaged reflexes are in working order.
I like clothes. Not buying them, wearing them. Says so right here we should. Shame, like pain in childbearing, is something we picked up along with sin. This is why I reserve my right to find labor not only painful, but humiliating. I know, I know--doctors and nurses have seen it all. There's no other way to do it. But I don't like trying to be talked out of my embarrassment over the whole thing. Yes, it does bother me, a LOT, even in my least analytical moments of labor. Yes, everyone has told me male doctors are nicer, but I just can't deal with the idea, so I'll stick with the mean girls. And I would really, really like for someone to explain to me why there always seem so many people there just watching the show. Back to the nurses' station with you! Don't you have some annoying patient to complain about together? That would be more fun.
For those of us who wish wearing a burka wouldn't give the wrong confessional impression: it's ok to feel bad about the sartorial necessities of childbirth. It's sad that we do, but it's also sad that the whole thing hurts so bloody much. Nobody would try to tell you it doesn't hurt, or it doesn't matter that it hurts. And I think it's fair to say that if your modesty hurts too, it just shows that your sin-damaged reflexes are in working order.
11 January 2008
Another awkward conversation
So an acquaintance was kind enough to invite me and a couple other moms over for a playdate and lunch. Between bites of macaroni, a (Sulvan) mom, upon discovering that Baby 3 is also Boy 3, asked The Question: "So, are you going to make another try for a girl or just call it quits?"
Now, I still don't have a good answer for this question. Maybe it's because I'm still relatively new at this CSPP thing. Maybe it's because I don't get out and talk to normal people much.
Partly, I think I get hung up on the implication that my second or third boy is somehow less wanted simply because we already have one or two of that sex. That's actually kind of offensive. Who said we were "trying" for a girl? Though that's what everyone seems to assume. Just today, I heard again the consolotary, "well, that's ok too" when someone heard that another boy is expected. (I doubt the people who say such things have really grasped that implication, so I try not to let it irk me. Doesn't do to be too sensitive in this business.) Our two born boys are so very different--they are unique persons, not just blue blankets instead of pink. And though we don't know the third boy too well yet, we're already ridiculously attached to him just as he is. (Of course, I would be delighted to have a daughter someday--don't get me wrong!)
The possible answers that immediately sprang to mind had to be discarded just as immediately.
"Well, we've concluded that artificial birth control is immoral--hormonal birth control may even be abortificient--and so we tossed the pills" just might possibly come across as a wee bit pompous and rude, to say nothing of not being particularly winsome or conducive to future conversation. (And besides the fact that offending the hostess's friend is never nice, hey, I'd love to be invited back there sometime--they've got goats!!)
"Well, we might just see what happens" is equivocal, cowardly, unhelpful.
So while struggling to keep the toddler's food in the vicinity of his plate, I managed to come up with something fumbling to the effect of "well, we used to think we'd just have 2 or 3 kids, but now we haven't really set a number, we've all been blessed with good health and we're kind of excited to see what God's plans are for our family." Ugh. Terribly convincing, huh?
Especially since I tried to throw in some sort of disclaimer about how I'm not doing this because it's my idea of a great time, like those obviously more contented women R. described earlier. I'm sure I sounded perfectly insane.
So the one who asked kind of stared at me like I was from another planet (which being non-Sulvan, of course I am) and then declared her preference not to have any more kids, at least not for awhile, and the gracious hostess (neat Christian with 3 kids so far; don't know if there are plans for more), nodded with some degree of sympathy for me, and then a preschooler (not mine, thank goodness), spit a large wad of food across the room, effectively ending my turn in the hot seat.
So how does one answer this question? Or, for those of you who have multiple girls, or some of each sex, how do you field the "so you're all done" assumption? Help me out here; I'm floundering.
Now, I still don't have a good answer for this question. Maybe it's because I'm still relatively new at this CSPP thing. Maybe it's because I don't get out and talk to normal people much.
Partly, I think I get hung up on the implication that my second or third boy is somehow less wanted simply because we already have one or two of that sex. That's actually kind of offensive. Who said we were "trying" for a girl? Though that's what everyone seems to assume. Just today, I heard again the consolotary, "well, that's ok too" when someone heard that another boy is expected. (I doubt the people who say such things have really grasped that implication, so I try not to let it irk me. Doesn't do to be too sensitive in this business.) Our two born boys are so very different--they are unique persons, not just blue blankets instead of pink. And though we don't know the third boy too well yet, we're already ridiculously attached to him just as he is. (Of course, I would be delighted to have a daughter someday--don't get me wrong!)
The possible answers that immediately sprang to mind had to be discarded just as immediately.
"Well, we've concluded that artificial birth control is immoral--hormonal birth control may even be abortificient--and so we tossed the pills" just might possibly come across as a wee bit pompous and rude, to say nothing of not being particularly winsome or conducive to future conversation. (And besides the fact that offending the hostess's friend is never nice, hey, I'd love to be invited back there sometime--they've got goats!!)
"Well, we might just see what happens" is equivocal, cowardly, unhelpful.
So while struggling to keep the toddler's food in the vicinity of his plate, I managed to come up with something fumbling to the effect of "well, we used to think we'd just have 2 or 3 kids, but now we haven't really set a number, we've all been blessed with good health and we're kind of excited to see what God's plans are for our family." Ugh. Terribly convincing, huh?
Especially since I tried to throw in some sort of disclaimer about how I'm not doing this because it's my idea of a great time, like those obviously more contented women R. described earlier. I'm sure I sounded perfectly insane.
So the one who asked kind of stared at me like I was from another planet (which being non-Sulvan, of course I am) and then declared her preference not to have any more kids, at least not for awhile, and the gracious hostess (neat Christian with 3 kids so far; don't know if there are plans for more), nodded with some degree of sympathy for me, and then a preschooler (not mine, thank goodness), spit a large wad of food across the room, effectively ending my turn in the hot seat.
So how does one answer this question? Or, for those of you who have multiple girls, or some of each sex, how do you field the "so you're all done" assumption? Help me out here; I'm floundering.
10 January 2008
Arch Books stink! There, I said it!
Veith hosted a discussion not too long ago in which Arch Books were commended for their faithfulness to Scripture and a consistent Christocentrism. Great. No, really, great. But here's my deep dark secret: I hope we never get another one in a Christmas stocking or Easter basket. Tell all the truth, but tell it slant rhyme? In one metrically botched line after another? For little kids?? This is terrible for an audience in the formative years of literacy.
I'm told that the editors of the series in their quest for doctrinal impeccability are pretty brutal with authors--but these are not complicated metrical schemes we're working with here. I know, because I can usually correct them off the top of my head as I read through them with the babies, and it doesn't even begin to require dogmatic compromises (although some Arch specimens are such poetic train wrecks that correcting them would require a real investment of time, and probably an Enigma machine). It's time to kill some darlings down at CPH. People who make aesthetic arguments for the liturgy shouldn't be compromising when it comes to any creative conveyance of the Word. Aren't we the ones always shouting about the medium being the message? Lex orandi and all that?
We have a cute little book from Tyndale with nary a blunder in rhythm or rhyme. Heavy on the Law and low on Jesus, but at least it's easy on the ears, as ostensibly rhyming poetry for children should be. It figures that those rational Calvinists would be able to pull off a regular meter, but surely there's someone within the Church of the Augsburg Confession who could keep us from looking like a bunch of idiots who can't come up with a word to rhyme with "Mary," or else rearrange the line so as to avoid the problem without employing five extra syllables. In the meantime, we'll just stick to our Child's Garden of Bible Stories for our Scriptural literacy curriculum, or, if we're really desperate, old Heilige Schrift.
I'm told that the editors of the series in their quest for doctrinal impeccability are pretty brutal with authors--but these are not complicated metrical schemes we're working with here. I know, because I can usually correct them off the top of my head as I read through them with the babies, and it doesn't even begin to require dogmatic compromises (although some Arch specimens are such poetic train wrecks that correcting them would require a real investment of time, and probably an Enigma machine). It's time to kill some darlings down at CPH. People who make aesthetic arguments for the liturgy shouldn't be compromising when it comes to any creative conveyance of the Word. Aren't we the ones always shouting about the medium being the message? Lex orandi and all that?
We have a cute little book from Tyndale with nary a blunder in rhythm or rhyme. Heavy on the Law and low on Jesus, but at least it's easy on the ears, as ostensibly rhyming poetry for children should be. It figures that those rational Calvinists would be able to pull off a regular meter, but surely there's someone within the Church of the Augsburg Confession who could keep us from looking like a bunch of idiots who can't come up with a word to rhyme with "Mary," or else rearrange the line so as to avoid the problem without employing five extra syllables. In the meantime, we'll just stick to our Child's Garden of Bible Stories for our Scriptural literacy curriculum, or, if we're really desperate, old Heilige Schrift.
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