god money, i'll do anything for you

I don't know if it's an Autumn ritual for me or if I'm learning to listen more to my soul speak through my intuition lately or if it's just that I have a major case of the wantsies lately that's making me go on the offensive against all these things.

There are so many different sources of financial input in my life. First, there's the everpresent role model of my grandparents. They started with nothing, absolutely nothing, and made their way up up up the financial ladder to be some of the wealthiest people I know personally. They played the 20th century banking game for sure, and looking at their portfolio today, I'd say they won. I don't think the 21st century banking game offers the same prizes. I don't even think it has the same rulebook. And I don't think I want to work the 40-hour+ week that my grandma did to score that late-life prize. So although the rest of the country would likely call my grandparents' financial life a success, it's not an appropriate role model for me.

Other inputs come from research, from the Bible, from my own intuition, and from my own comfort level with varying amounts of debt and savings.

Here are some random inputs that play through my mind regularly:

"It is easier to fit a camel through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the Kingdom of Heaven."

"He who knows he has enough, is rich."

"The Federal Reserve is a private corporation."

"Pay yourself first."

And then of course, there are the subconscious inputs from all the advertising I take in daily. If I took the commercials' word for it, I'd believe that we were the last remaining family without a big flat-screen TV. I am so unbelievably grateful (as is my wallet) that I have friends who are TV-free and not constantly seeking the newest electronic gadget. Although there are still lots of things that even the most vehement TV-critic can spend money on. Organic cotton onesies, Robeez shoes, Hanna Anderssen clothes, raw honey, free-range everything, gluten-free this and dairy-free that, supplements and oils and shampoos without chemicals, recycled toilet paper, all natural dog food. Sometimes I think the natural-minded market is easier to milk money from than the standard American sap. And the beat goes on.

"You adjust your spending to your income, every time."

It's true. When we made $30,000 a year, we spent $30,000 a year. When we made $50,000, we spent $50,000. My quality of life didn't feel that much different. We still had the same lack of extra money because what really increased wasn't our free cash, it was our bills. It was amount we were beholden to creditors and service providers each month.

And did my giving go up? Did I actually achieve my goal of 10% giving once we increased our salary? Was I able to go to church and actually NOT feel guilty when the bag came by after we hit the $50,000/year mark?

Nope.

My year-to-date giving this year has been $40. That's right. $40. Ouch.

I mean, it's understandable, right? We're building this house and we have so many unexpected out-of-pocket expenses coming out all the time. And my pregnancy! Don't forget about all those supplements I'm buying. And how I have to eat so much more protein. And how I'm so tired. You know, after the house is built and after my pregnancy is over and after I'm living farther out and not running around spending so much gas all the time and after we can grow more of our own food, you know, that's when I'll give. That's when.

I've finally had to face the fact that my lack of giving isn't due to life circumstances; it's due to greed. After all those obligations are done that are sucking away our giving money right now, there will be animals we want to get and a wood stove to purchase and this and that and that and this, all of which will make our life easier and give us more in the end.

"It takes money to make money."

Right? Right? This is "conventional wisdom", folks. This is what Chase and Bank of America and Capital One live and die on. If I believe that all I need is more money and then I can do anything I've ever wanted and be wildly successful and above all, happy, then they live. If I choose not to believe it, then they die.

Let's look at some truth again:

"You adjust your spending to your income, every time."

Does this mean that if I make 10% less, I will adjust my spending to match it? Yes. Does this mean that if I make the same amount, but give away 10% to things that matter, that I will adjust my spending to match my adjusted income? Yes. Does that mean that if I want to reach my 10% goal, I need to give first and adjust my spending afterwards? Yes, yes, yes!

What would happen if I spent 10% less on every new purchase? Here's what I suspect would happen: I would use the creativity that God has given me along with the skills I've acquired and new ones I'd like to learn to not even notice the missing 10%. I also think that my life would be richer for it...richer in the ways that matter, that is.

What would happen if I decided not to save 10%, or if I decided not to save much of anything? What if, instead of hoarding my money in different accounts, I put that money into real assets that were useful to us and provided for our needs? Then what if I decided to stop after we'd provided for our needs for food, shelter, health, community and some form of entertainment? Then, what if, instead of saving any surplus, I gave it away? What would that be like?

It sounds so scary, but is it? Would it be? I think it would be scary if we still had a lot of debt. But if we were able to eliminate our debt? Then would it be scary? Or would it be freeing?

Would I feel more freedom in not being able to run out & buy whatever I'm thinking about, to not be able to give into a case of the wantsies?

I know that I like to do something to provide for my family. I definitely provide love and comfort to my children, but I like to be able to provide some material things, too. I don't want Jeff to have to do everything on his own.

I was pleased to find such a wealth of information in my freebies sites, listed on the right side of this blog here under "Deals and Steals." For awhile, I toyed with using them to their full advantage. I checked in on them daily and made a detailed calendar of the deadlines of all my deals and coupons and rebates so I wouldn't forget them. This took a lot of time, but since it was the only thing I could contribute back then, I dealt with it. I thought I would enjoy it. I was, after all, taking advantage of the very corporations that are always trying to take advantage of me. I was outsmarting them. I was winning.

But within just a few weeks time, I started to feel a little sick on the inside. I couldn't put my finger on it. It's the same feeling Facebook is giving me right now. It makes me feel a little off-center, a little unhealthy, a little wrong, even though I'm not sure exactly why.

Finally it clicked for me one day when I drove to 3 different stores to find the Sunday paper with its coupons still intact, came up empty-handed, and spent a good hour in a bad mood about it. I went grocery shopping that week anyway, of course, without cutting any coupons, without organizing a darn thing. I just made a short list and went to a few stores that had good prices on my list. And I ended up spending just shy of $50 for our whole week's groceries. I was able to patronize a few independents: our local health food store (where I hit the 50% off rack), the Mexican grocery store (which always puts me thinking in Spanish by the time I leave), and our local poultry farm (where we learned the back story of our favorite dog there). I also filled in some edges at Aldi and only had to out of pocket less than $50. On the other hand, I could have traipsed around Kroger with its irritating habit of finding just those 80's songs that should have been buried forever in a one-hit-wonder-why coffin, dug through all my coupons, carefully comparing prices and coupons and ingredients and ounces, pushed past all those other annoyed shoppers with their scowling faces, spent almost double for the same amount of food even with my coupons, then gotten sick a day later from whatever snotty-nose-wiping hand had pushed my cart around before me.

I was spending so much of my time and so many of my thoughts on how to get things for cheaper. Deals! Steals! Everyone loves a deal, even more a steal, but really, I wasn't outsmarting anyone (or anything). The corporations had managed to actually make me feel more in need of their needless things than I had before. The things suddenly had even more value because I had gotten them for free! It was the same focus on wanting that I had tried so hard to ditch in the past, but now I'd given it an open door to come on back in, because I could want and desire the things all I wanted and since I didn't have to spend (much) money on them, I didn't have to feel guilty.

What if I just gave that not (much) money away? What would that be like? What if I didn't give the corporations my money or my focus? What if I didn't give them my desire at all? What would that be like?

What would it be like to be more of a financial sieve than a financial safe?

I have a little income now -- just a little. I'm giving a straight 10% off the top. It's my income, so I don't have to make it a joint decision, which makes it easier to start giving. I'm looking at every new purchase with a new eye, as I ask myself how I can do with something that costs 10% less than that potential purchase.

I'm also limiting my deals and steals hunting to once or twice a week. They can be useful, especially for having backups of different products in the house through samples or for stocking a gift closet so that I don't have to run out at the drop of a hat. Some people in our life still don't recognize love in a handmade gift, unfortunately.

"Let go of your worldly attachments."

If I had to choose, I'd always choose creativity, intelligence and talents over money. 10 times out of 10. If our bank accounts become a sieve and cease to grow, will creativity, intelligence and talents grow in their place? I suspect so.

riding waves

There are some days, okay most days, where I've got me, my mood, and lots of my opinions. If I'm lucky enough to have energy too, those days I write. Other days, though, I've got me, and that's about it. My mood, even my opinions seem to be prey to any old influence that comes along. Maybe I'm too tired to exert my own influence, or maybe I'm just all mixed up with too many conflicting patterns inside. I'm not sure. Today is one of those days, though.

I usually don't write on those days because I prefer things to have a point, a decipherable theme at the end to wrap it all up. I like to follow my standard struggle - discover - conquer format that seems to permeate any personal post that I do. Today, I'm sitting in front of a brand new laptop with an empty house & a fresh iTunes loaded with only the music of the latest appeal, and it seems like wasted time not to write. Plus, I'm looking at a whole house full of c-r-a-p (and I mean, FULL of it, as in, if the realtor called us today asking for a showing, I'd have to deny it). I'd choose this over cleaning the house any day.

Perhaps that should be my theme for today -- messies versus the organized. I was thinking about it this morning as I was driving around gathering cash for my impending laptop purchase. I was supposed to pick someone up to help me decide if the MacBook was a good deal or not, and I realized after I got in the car that the poor guy would need somewhere to put his feet. My car is a perpetual pit of junk, but lately, it's been swinging more to the digusting side. Where even I am embarrassed to ride in it, let alone let anyone else in.

As I drove around, I picked up endless coffee cups, plastic cups, papers, straws, off the passenger side floor each time I came to a stoplight. And it started me thinking about the drive to keep a cleaner personal environment.

When I got married, I remember having many arguments over the state of the house. Apparently, when I quit my job to get health insurance through the state, I was drafted into the job of sole housecleaner. Problem is, I'm a terrible housecleaner. I'm about as good at that job as good old Georgie W. would be at the job of "speech writer." I tried. Really. But I was on a very steep learning curve.

Then Sassy came along & all our lofty expectations of maintaining a clean house were gone. We were lucky to be able to sleep. We both fell into our old patterns of letting clutter overtake every room & then madly cleaning before anyone said they wanted to come over. And shutting our bedroom doors when we had company of course, lest they see the piles upon piles of clothes all over the floor.

As Sassy grew, so did her ability to get into things. That's when the cleaner house kind of happened to us. Things had to be put up, since being put up was safer than being put into her mouth. That meant our floors quit being the dumping grounds for things. Instead, our counters and tables and furniture tops were piled high with discarded items that belonged somewhere else, just not there.

Meanwhile, I learned that how well I keep my home is another great way to judge myself as a wife and mother! How exciting! I needed more to judge myself with, so this was great!

I spent a good two years fretting over hotspots and visiting FlyLady and thinking about organizational techniques and cleaning routines and products that were chemically safe but made my cleaning easier. This all came to a head when we listed our house for sale. I had become like a marine corporal, barking orders at my family. Pick that up! Do NOT leave your things lying around! Take off your shoes! Remember: when you leave the room, it must look like you were never there!!!

We got the house in picture-perfect, show-ready condition and then we flew away to Arizona to recoup. And when I look back on our vacation, the best part of it all wasn't the trips into the desert, or the on-site swimming pool, the hot sun, or even the multiple not-yet-picked-over thrift stores. It was the messy apartment. The glorious, wonderful, clothes all over the floor, kitchen piled high with dirty dishes, bed unmade every day, wet swimsuits lining the tub, relaxing messy apartment. I could feel myself breathe easier each time I stepped over a big pile of dirty clothes & didn't stop to pick them up. When I think back on our time in the messy apartment, I feel...comfort. That cluttery apartment was like a great big hug, which I desperately needed at the time.

I also was able to reconnect spiritually on that vacation. I wrote 3 blog posts, though I believe I only posted one. My mind wandered freely with nary a thought to the state of my surroundings. I had the freedom to make connections and follow them, to decipher the input of the past couple months and the new input coming from the hot sun and the mountains. Just thinking back on it now makes me breathe more deeply.

Then, our week was up & we headed home. The dread set in during our flight and just increased the closer we got to home. I walked into our very, very clean, picture-perfect, show-ready house and wanted to cry. We put our suitcases in the basement. We found something to eat and then made it look like we were never there. For the next 3 weeks, I kept the house up in this way. I was always ready for that phone call from the realty office, to "confirm a showing." I always had one foot out the door and the other in constant cleaning mode.

I also fantasized about suicide almost every day. I imagined different ways I could kill myself: hang myself from the ceiling fan, bury myself in the backyard under the pine trees, drive myself over a cliff. I couldn't stop crying. I couldn't stop wanting to die.

What I wanted was an escape. Obviously, I didn't want to die. But I felt like I had no home. I felt like I was living in someone else's home. I longed for that messy apartment in Arizona. One night I sat in the living room, sobbing after Sassy had fallen asleep, and then it struck me. "F--- it." And I started to laugh. If God intervenes in our lives, he intervened in mine right there. How the light switch can flip from sobbing in desperation to laughing out loud in a manner of seconds is either insanity or a higher power. I'm going with God on this one.

And thank God that it happened! I don't know how chronically depressed people keep going. A "f--- it" attitude has always served me well in the past & it did yet again. Our house started getting messier & messier, little by little. Soon, it actually felt like our house again. And soon after that, it felt like a burden again. Only this time it was the burden of getting ourselves ready for a spur-of-the-moment showing that might or might not happen. The actual mess itself was comforting, like an old friend.

As I drove around hastily making my car suitable for a passenger this morning, I was thinking about what I've learned about my messy habits in the past few years.

Well, I realized that regardless of who we might want to be at different times in our lives, Jeff, Sassy, and myself are all a bunch of "messies." Every single one of us likes to act like it's the others that make the bulk of the mess, but the truth is, none of us are clean people. When we use the phone book in the study, we don't put it back in its kitchen drawer when we're done -- ever. Our coffee cups sit exactly where we set them down last time we were using them. Our dirty clothes lie in piles on the floor when we take them off. And the truth of it is, that's the way I like it. I like the bed unmade, the coffee cups all over the computer desk, and the backed-up laundry waiting to be washed. I much prefer it to the starkly clean home I was trying to keep up with a few weeks ago.

I also realized that while most cleaner folks theorize that the only way to achieve a higher spirituality or a clarity of thinking is to maintain a home free of clutter and messiness, I don't think that's the case for everyone. At least, I don't think it's the case for me. I am at my most creative in a messy environment. Honestly, when my environment is too clean, my creativity declines because I'm reticent to do anything to mess up my environment. I have my limits, for sure. Actual dirt, dust or dog hair weighs on me pretty quickly. Clutter takes about 4 or 5 days to press my buttons & then I want a clean sweep so we can start over. But there are two modes for me: "cleaning mode" and "living mode." The two modes are never operating simultaneously. And I simply cannot let my mind wander enough to be creative when I'm in "cleaning mode."

Some of the most creative people I know are also more comfortable in messy environments. And I'm beginning to see that for some of us, a messy home doesn't provide mental clarity. For some of us, a clean home gets us all muddled up mentally with mundane tasks and crushing responsibility, leaving no room for Big Ideas. A messy home, on the other hand, gives us the mental room we need to think those Big Ideas and then the freedom to get ourselves knee-deep in the messy processes to bring those Big Ideas to fruition. And if that's what my family needs in order to create, then maybe the messy house/clean sweep/messy house/clean sweep pattern is something I might choose to live with, good mothering be damned.

grab bag of creative play

What can you do with 15 straws cut in half, 8 scraps of fabric, 40 twisty-ties, 1 ribbon & 2 bags of green tea?

Well...your straws can surf and play and swim and sun themselves on the sandy beaches of green tea, then dry themselves off with fabric scrap towels.

I recently set up a box full of grab bags for Sassy. I put household items inside brown paper bags so she could pick out a few & see what she comes up with. I loved hearing her ideas of what she could do with the things she pulled out of the bags today.

We haven't had the TV on for morning cartoons in about a week. She's been making a monster of a mess in the house each day, but she's also suddenly started to help clean up (without complaining...usually). So the huge mess isn't such a big deal as it used to be. It's been wonderful hearing her wake up and start straight in on some imaginary game or another.

So far today she has played with the vintage dollhouse furniture we found in the attic a few years ago. She used little foam shapes I bought as Bingo markers for people.

Then, of course, the straws had fun on the sandy beach in the bathroom for awhile. They swam in a bowl full of water, then played in a bowl full of green tea (the sand). Playing in the bathroom made her think of brushing her baby's teeth, I guess, so she made "toothpaste" out of flour & water & set to work cleaning her baby doll's teeth.

She delivered mail to her Daddy & me in the form of scribbled-on blank index cards, and then later I received a package from "The Package Lady" in which I discovered beautiful gold & purple high-heeled plastic shoes. A little small for me, but they fit my daughter perfectly.

We were accompanied by her baby doll in the baby carrier during our morning outside time. Apparently, her baby is very young and can't be by herself and she needs a very warm blanket at all times. I babysat for about 10 minutes on the swing while Sassy played with Sofie.

Well, it's not a curriculum, but it is fun. I've decided reading can wait. There's always next year.

be gone with you!

Ooh.....oooohhh!!!! Listen to this!! I have news!!!

Jeff just told me that when we move to our land, he would like for us to leave the TVs behind. Both of them! BOTH! Not let's just keep one TV hooked up for Sunday night shows, nope. NO TV HOOKUP! Woo-hoo!

We will keep our small flat TV attached to the DVD player, but we won't have any cable or satellite or anything coming in to get stations. How happy am I? I never thought he would go for that, let alone suggest it.

We've been watching quite a few documentaries lately & enjoying learning things & growing through them together. Our latest was 11th hour -- we would highly recommend it.

If you have watched it or decide to watch it, you might remember or notice the part where they talk about how each individual who is aware of this crisis plays a small part in the larger role. It's as if we are each a tiny pixel in a huge mosaic.

I asked Jeff what kind of pixel he was. I told him if he didn't know, try to pinpoint the one thing that gives him that sick stomach feeling, you want to turn away but you can't.

He said the thing that made him the most nauseous was the crazy consumption of non-essentials and the unchecked power of the oil companies. For me, it is the pesticides, the downfall of our foods, the chemicals pumped daily into oceans & rivers as if the water itself is garbage. We both said that our brightest pixels were our children. Sassy is already so tuned-in to the natural way of things, and with the next baby, we'll have a chance to do even better -- raising her on land with animals and nature to interact with daily.

What are your pixels? Have you identified them yet?

ch-ch-ch-chatter

Here are a few truly random, here to there, things for tonight.

First, Evan Almighty. If you have children, rent it. It's the best family movie I've seen since The Lion, The Witch & The Wardrobe. (Which was my favorite movie at the time because I couldn't get over how the Lion brought the story of the cross to life in such a tangible way. Darn it if that C.S. Lewis wasn't brilliant.) I watched the previews for Evan Almighty & thought it looked so stupid for a Steve Carrell movie, but it was a great surprise. An added bonus was Lorelei Gilmore in a starring role -- we so miss the Gilmore Girls.

I made a YUMMY casserole tonight that just used up a bunch of scraps & turned out great for so little effort. I mixed chicken fat (from a few broth-makings...I store it in the freezer) with flour to make a roux. Then I added milk to make a chicken gravy. Yum. I mixed in some leftover lentils & rice I had in the freezer. I threw leftover chicken, a medium-sized yellow squash & about 1/4 large onion in the food processor & nearly, not quite, pureed it. Tiny, tiny minced. Mixed all that into the gravy, lentils & rice. Topped it with tomato slices from all those half tomatoes we seem to collect in our fridge all the time, then put mozzarella cheese on top of that & baked it at 400 degrees until the cheese got brown. I couldn't believe it turned out as delicious as it did. The fact that I used up a bunch of stuff that would have otherwise hit the trash eventually made it even better.

I started an online prayer journal tonight, private because really, it's a prayer journal. I'm glad I started it because I've had a real problem praying for pretty much as long as I can remember. Why? Because my mind wanders....and wanders....and wanders. It's awful. I might start out, "Dear God, I feel so guilty for getting angry with Sofie tonight," and even though I intend to ask for help, patience, solutions, etc., instead I start wandering into, "Where else could we tie her where she wouldn't get muddy," and "Those stairs are so going to fall if she keeps putting so much pressure on them, did I leave my good dish out there tonight? I did see a plate that had fallen off the stairs, I should pick that up before tomorrow's showing, along with dog poop, but I should have done that tonight since garbage is tonight so it won't smell in the garbage can, I wonder if we've gotten any more feedback since the last time I looked, oh crap, I was praying, now where was I..."

Writing makes me focus on one idea at a time. Even writing that is fairly stream of consciousness for me still requires an intro, a middle & a conclusion. Supporting facts & ideas belong in the middle somewhere. Anything off-track belongs in parentheses. So starting a prayer journal is something I've been wanting to do for awhile now & I finally took the time to do it the other day & made my first post tonight. I love it. It means I'm actually praying and seems to be the only way I can.

This brings my personal blog count to five. Hee, hee. I'm thinking of starting another two as well: one for a writing portfolio & one to document our building progress on our land.

I've recently decided I need about an hour to myself each morning to be a kind and gentle mom wife human being. Lately, I haven't been enjoying my time with Sassy or with Jeff or even with myself because I start each morning annoyed that I can't have some quiet time. It's been this way since Jeff started second shift nearly a year ago. The house is so full & noisy every morning. I don't mind full & noisy so much at night. I'll probably have a noise sensitivity forever, but I'd rather the house be full & loud than empty and quiet. In the morning, though, my noise sensitivity is at its worst, plus I'm just not a morning person. I have always been a big grump in the morning; I likely always will. C'est la vie. Not being able to focus myself on the day ahead and process the day before makes me even more grumpy -- surprising it's even possible. I'm hoping that about an hour a day to center myself will do the trick.

I watched Oprah today, on purpose. The woman who left her toddler in a hot car last year -- the vice-principal -- was on in her first interview since it happened. I've always felt for that woman. I wanted to actually write her a letter of support at the time, begging her to forgive herself. Jeff thought she was the walking epitome of evil or something, so I lost my nerve. I remember when she appeared in court on murder charges, they were talking about jailtime. Jeff kept saying how much she deserved it and all this, but I said it really didn't matter. She was going to be numb & dead to the world for a long time & it didn't matter whether she was in jail or at home, it would be the same for her.

They had a Zen author/counselor/whatever on there talking about how we all need to slow down, ask for help, stop trying to do it all. One thing he said has stuck with me all day: "The greatest gift we can give each other is our attitude, our state of mind." It's so true. 90% of my days I am in absolutely no position to be a good teacher or model for Sassy's spirit. 95% of the time, my mind is not in the present. It worries over the future or dwells on the past. If I could be more present, my relationship with both Sassy and Jeff would likely improve.

One exercise I've given myself when Jeff and I argue is to try to forget other times that we've been in similar arguments. If he's angry that I put his towel in the dirty clothes before he wanted it in there, I try not to do my usual routine of "Nothing makes me more angry than when you get mad at me for something you haven't told me about and how the hell am I supposed to read your freaking mind and if you actually loved me you'd realize how much cleaning pressure I have on my shoulders with this house listed and empathize with me instead of worrying about one stupid towel when there's 10 more folded in the basement, this is so typical of you, you're always doing crap like this, expecting me to read your freaking mind." Instead, I am trying to remember that sometimes (usually?)...a towel is just a towel. Some would call this not making a mountain out of a molehill. It is, in essence, an exercise of staying in the present.

A related thought pattern has surfaced for me lately and it all started when I received an unexpected update from this blog I'd forgotten about. All of a sudden, lots of random buzzing inputs from the past several months came together for me to form a solid idea and a solid vision for myself as a parent and a homeschooler.

There are two big, big things I want to give my children: creativity and understanding of spirit. I want them to have the freedom, skill set & trust in themselves to always be creative in anything they do. I believe that creativity can be learned (by nurturing it and allowing it, in your children or in yourself); ditto the understanding of spirit. It must be nurtured & allowed. Of all things that can benefit my children long-term in any area, in all parts of their lives, these two are at the top, along with courage & self-discipline. I'm beginning to see courage & self-discipline as subsets, however, of the understanding of spirit. If you understand and accept your spirit, you will have courage, self-discipline, self-denial & empathy. From there flows joy, love, forgiveness, thankfulness, gentleness ad infinitum.

So how can I give these two wonderful gifts to my children? How can I give them creativity and understanding of spirit? Freedom and experimentation. How can I be sure that they have the freedom to experiment? First they need security. I already give my children security to the best of my ability. Comfort on demand, a mom & dad committed to their marriage, a mother who is with them 24 hours a day when needed -- these give security. Then they need tools. Fewer toys. More tools. What are tools? Tools are generic. Unlike most toys, tools allow children to dictate play. A button can be a mommy, daddy, baby, dog, plate, stool, stage, frisbee, flying saucer. A My Little Pony is just a pony forever. But even the My Little Ponies are better than many toys -- they don't talk, they all look about the same. Like the Barbies of old, they're largely generic. Generic ponies.

As homeschoolers, I automatically think of "experimentation" in terms of elementary science class. Today I am thinking of experimentation differently. How? Well, in my home I'd like to see experimentation without labels. If I give her a bathtub full of bath toys and I'm thinking about floating or sinking, how does it change her experimentation for me to direct the experiment? For me to label the terms "float" and "sink"? For me to decide that this is a golden learning opportunity to be able to check off the float/sink box on my mental checklist of what needs to be learned by first grade? I imagine it changes the experiment quite a bit.

The young years are filled with open minds, minds that have a direct connection with the spirit if allowed, if nurtured. Understanding of true spirit comes free and easy then, unfettered by labels and words and spelling. I believe that any child left on his or her own, without educational TV, without commercialization, with the security of two loving parents which in turn allow that child to feel free to be the essence of him/herself, will have a truer understanding of spirit and a truer connection with God than most of us achieve in a lifetime. If you add in daily interaction with the beauty of God's creation, healthy nutritious real food, parents who model the fruits of the spirit day in, day out with the child, and parents who provide enough discipline and limits to keep the child feeling secure (and therefore free), it is a no-fail recipe for an enlightened child who will always understand his/her spirit. This child will know God innately, regardless of the politics of the local church.

This is a lot to think on for me. I was raised in a public school family by public school teachers. Academics was King. Perhaps I don't care if my children do so well in academics. Perhaps I do care, but deep down I know I shouldn't. Perhaps I continually struggle with humility because I've been taught that academics was King and I'm naturally good in academics. Perhaps academics has taken me as far as it can and it's now time to let it go. My true spirit gains no confidence from academic success; it gains only arrogance.