Meek and Humble of Heart

This week should be a historic time for our Catholic children: a chance to witness a conclave! To watch more closely via news networks and social media than ever before!

Chris and I decided to scrap our entire week of normal homeschooling to do an in-depth study of the papacy and be available to watch any news coverage of the Vatican happenings. I spent three hours on Sunday (two while Chris played with the children and one at night when I wanted to be sleeping) assembling the materials to make a papal lap book, as described at Showers of Roses.

Copyright Shower of Roses

It was going to be great.

And then Monday morning I woke up and vowed for only-my-Lord-above knows how many times that today would be the day I didn't lose my patience with my children. I wouldn't slip into an ugly tone of voice and I wouldn't raise my volume above that of a kindly Kindergarten teacher. I am stronger than little children, they can't force me to lose my cool, I can be calm in the midst of the storm. As I say with my daily Morning Offering, today is the day I will be meek and humble of heart.

Well, it's a good thing I don't wear a wristwatch or I'd more precisely know just how short that resolution lasted.

See this mother's blog post about all the things her seven children did in creating the lapbook? As I examined her report, I thought, "Even though I've scrapped our entire school week, I don't think I can get all this done in one week.

And then I realized that she did all that in one day.

Well, I did manage to power through all that day's assignments of Lap Book Fun (and got through the laundry, the cooking, and supervising outdoor play, all with Grampa Neil now departed back home, not here to assist). Meanwhile, I managed angrily to remind the children not to pick their noses or put their fingers in their mouths maybe 50 times. I explained that they'll rue the day when they're vomiting from some germ they picked up and put in their very own mouths with their bad habit and I promised them that I'm going to start putting that foul-tasting stuff on their fingernails because I'm no longer going to waste my breath correcting them.

While reading Scripture about the primacy of Peter, I inserted such distracting commentary as, "And Jesus said unto him, 'that thou art Peter, and upon this rock I will build my Church . . . get your hands out of my hair!" I spend effort putting my hair into a bun to be neat and practical just to have the children make a game of purposefully pulling out strands of my hair.

I gave them a really good guilt trip about just how many hours I had spent preparing this lapbook activity in which they were not participating. (Self-focused guilt trip: a big fail as a parent.)

Catching John picking at the big hole in the knee of his pants, I made the ridiculous and false promise that I wasn't going to buy him any more pants until he grew into the next size he needed anyway because he keeps ruining his pants in ways I can't patch.

It's a good thing she is so cute.

I endured repeated full-blown tantrums from the child two-years-this-month, such that I felt no compunction telling her she was welcome to flop around on the ground as long as she wanted. Homeschooling felt so far from idyllic with Margaret screaming so loud that we can't talk over her and the infant in my sling squalling because I'm trying to nurse him (one-handed) while cutting-and-gluing (one-handed) with the children. (I know, I know, but would daycare with them both crying away from me be idyllic? No. Little ones are going to cry regardless and I should respond to their tears by remembering what a privilege it is that I get to be present to comfort them.)

Meanwhile, a certain four-year-old who sneaks to use the scissors any time she can and has given herself THREE illicit haircuts in the last few weeks refused to do what should have been the fun and gratifying cutting portions of the lapbook--cutting out squares and stapling them together. Many mothers suggested that she needed more scissor time, that would solve her hair-cutting. Nope, suddenly her hand was useless and she could neither cut nor do the copywork (and if you know how well she can write freehand, you know how ridiculous were her claims, "Mama, I can't write!").

(Then I'm left with questions: Do I force her to do the copywork? Will that teach obedience? Will that cause her to hate school? Do I make it entirely optional since clearly Mary writes in an advanced way already so, really, why am I making any deal out of her doing babyish work anyway? Different homeschooling mothers will have different answers about this.)

At least I could occupy the 23-month-old by letting her cut scraps of paper: one success!

Who ended up doing the cutting work for both children flopping around? Mama, the foolish homeschooling mother.

The computer assignments (great websites to tour St. Peter's basilica!) were a hit with John, were vaguely interesting to Mary, and caused Margaret more huge tantrums because she wanted to be as capable on the computer as her big siblings.

And there are four more days' of assignments to create this fabulous lapbook.

This left me wondering, what is it exactly that I want the children to get out of this? Do I scrap even this plan? I want them to learn the content, I want them to learn how to do school, I want them to learn how to obey. I want them to enjoy themselves at least somewhat. I thought by giving them a change of pace and something more obviously "fun," they'd do it willingly and get practice obeying at the same time.

The day of trying to have Super Fun teaching this Special Subject left me such a bundle of nerves that Chris said kindly after dinner, "Why don't you go take 20 minutes to be by yourself?" It was that obvious.

It is clear that I need to continue reading repeatedly this excellent sermon on patience by Rev. Fr. Dominic Radecki. The quote on which I've most been meditating is as follows:

"The worldly view of suffering is misleading and dangerous; it is both irrational and irreligious. The world gives to suffering the consideration that really ought to be given to sin, regarding it as the supreme evil to be combatted at any cost, as the great enemy of mankind, and as something in which there is no particle of good or any mitigating circumstances. This view leads to strenuous efforts to abolish suffering, thereby making people less capable of enduring it and often causing their efforts to be wasted and misdirected." (emphasis mine)

I'm also in the midst of reading "Christian Patience: The Strength and Disciplie of the Soul" by Fr. William Ullathorne: it is a dense read--the kind I read with a pencil in hand for underlining--and follows my having read several times the slim volume (which almost can fit in one's pocket) distilled from this same book: "Patience and Humility."

I suspect that these kind of days are very normal for families with children, especially when the children remain with the parents all day long. I continue teaching content and obedience, children will keep learning, tiny bit by tiny bit. What needs to change is my interior peace. My heart needs to remain calm. I need to react to moments of wild exuberance or outright disobedience with gratitude (instead of irritation) that I get to be present to do the disciplining because nobody is going to discipline children with as much love and care for their eternal souls as will their parents.

Now, the children are waking up and today is the day I will have a meek and humble heart . . .