Bugging over Church

My mother likes to take the kids to church. She knows I'm pagan; she knows we are raising the kids in the pagan beliefs.

Now this is more like it...

Now, it isn't the church part that bugs me. It's the way she behaves towards the kids regarding church. She expects the almost 5 year old to sit quietly for an hour.

Seriously?!? Have you MET my kids? There is no quiet; there is no sitting. I can barely get them through sitting at the table for supper. And they have something to do in that situation. But just sit there and listen for an hour? I don't THINK so...

I love babies... when they are asleep!

I'm sure that my mother's heart is in the right place. However, expecting such unrealistic behavior is just silly. And she gets mad and PUNISHES them for misbehaving and (wait for it) embarrassing her. (She should read this.) Just to get this out there, my mother has a very low threshold for embarrassment... the drop of a hat will make her feel looked at and ashamed. It might drive me a bit nuts.

I told her she shouldn't punish them for not behaving in a way they are not expected to behave any other time. I told her she may want to EXPLAIN in DETAIL what is expected of them when they are in church. I also told her it may be ridiculous to expect kids that young to behave the way she wants them to in church (and this isn't something that is only with my kids either... see?).

Her reaction? "You don't want me to take the kids to church because you don't believe in it."

What?

He's quiet cuz she threatened to tell His Father!

Yeah, there's a bit of a point to that, but just a wee-bitty-bit. I let my kids learn about all religions and experience whatever religious experiences they show an interest in. I don't care if they go to Sunday school, church, synagogue, temple, whatever. I draw the line at forcing them to do something they are not ready for (such as, wait for it, sitting quietly for an hour being talked at), or anything that I see as mental/emotional manipulation. But I have nothing against the Christian/Catholic beliefs... I just don't agree with them.

I also think that the (fairly modern) belief that young children should go to church is ridiculous. As late as the 30s and 40s, many churches expected any child under about age 6 to stay home... BECAUSE THEY COULDN'T SIT STILL!!!

"Hey, this is important for your spiritual development."

"I wanna play!!"

And you certainly shouldn't PUNISH someone for not being able to meet expectations that are, at least, uncommon skills for that person's capabilities. That would be like telling me to run a mile - like run for a whole mile - and getting mad at me cuz I'm a fat girl and passed out after 3/4 of a mile. It's just not right, ya know?

Blogging on Blogging: How multi-tasking is the only way to travel

I am currently on the radio.

I am sitting at my desk, connected to Pagan-Musings radio blog as one of the weekly co-hosts, along with Phil Kessler. We are celebrating two years of being on the "air". Woot!

We have been on all this time, with kids and cats, technical issues and technological progress. And what a ride!

The following is a real-time run-down of what we are talking about:
We are talking about The Witches' Hour ezine, as well as our past guests and musical artists, such as Kaedrich Olsen, Damh the Bard, Paradiso and Rasamayi, Wendy Rule, Spiral Dance. We also have a call-in guest, Zaracon from Pagans Tonight.

We are also talking about plans for the future, both near and far: guest Lady Amythyst Raine who wrote Tarot: A Witch's Journey, and when I am moving to Lincoln, NE for the continued saga of Pangaia Metaphysical Store, the site and the facebook page. We are also discussing future-guest Oberon Zell and his projects, The Church of All Worlds (CAW) and Green Egg Magazine, Dorothy Morrison, and Patrick McCollum.

Phil and Z are teasing me about something they know about and won't tell me... Grrrr! Phil has a new project coming up, a pagan news program associated with Pagan-Musings and the sister programs, Musica Pagani and Selections from the Mess.


In discussing music, we have to mention that we carry some of this music on the webstore. We are also going to be bringing on Stormcrow to discuss the magical properties of various woods, which he uses to make wands for Pangaia.


Also our second-half of the show is a more serious subject, discussing the legal situation with Patrick McCollum and the religious rights of pagans in prison systems. Here is the press release he made regarding his continued efforts; and an article about the situation, Pagan Values: Why Prisoners Matter.


One of the wonderful things about a live show is the hecklers/spammers. Having open call-ins and/or an open chat room means that sometimes we'll have a caller talk about something totally inappropriate, or chatters posting about fundie Christian stuff, or posting porno links... *sighs* Idjits!

You're Eating... What?!?

I pull a Sanford, clutching my heart and crying out, "It's coming! Maple syrup is coming!"

I have to explain not only where a food is from, but how I managed to get it in the middle of Nebraska.

I mentioned to my coworkers that early exposure to a wide variety of foods may lead to fewer allergies as an adult. They looked me dead in the face and told me my kids would never have allergies.

When my family goes out to eat, if we eat "fast food", we all end up with digestive issues.

My name is Kalisara, and I am a food-aholic. (Hi, Kalisara!) I am a foodie (NUDIE-FOODIE!). I have made it my life's work to try most edibles from this planet. I'm on a mission from gahd: find the perfect food-gasm (gahd = Eros/Dionysus), and I love my work.

We have no less than five different kinds of cheese at any given moment, none of them being plastic (American) cheese. One of them is always sheep's cheese. As a family, we have consumed approximately 75 lbs of llama meat. The last snack food I purchased was dried Yacon fruit, which the kids ate most of it. We grind wheat to make flour. We use olive oil, sesame oil and real unsalted butter nearly every day.

I have infected my entire family with this joy of eating (insert Merril Streep replying to the question "What is it you really like to do?" in a falsetto brittish accent "EAT!").

This means that bug the bug the boy-child has never had a true picky-eating experience in his life. Upon going to a grillout at a natural-foods, half-vegetarian family, bug ate a little bit of all the salads, as well as a nice burger. The other young child there screamed until his microwavable mac'n'cheese was plopped in front of him.

Ladybug is following, having consumed an entire half-bowl of chicken enchilada soup just this evening. She eats all forms of meat, veggies, breads, seasonings, fruit... anything that fits in her mouth is consumed.

Stormcrow has slimmed down in the nearly one-year since he moved in, and he's lost about 40 pounds without dieting or exercising.

I think there are a lot of reasons to enjoy eating, the least of which is nutrition. There is nothing like putting home-cooked food into one's mouth and rolling one's eyes with sheer orgasmic pleasure.

Plus, enjoyment of food increases the amount of magical energy one gets from one's consumption.

And you forgot this was a PAGAN parenting blog... : P

Starting up again... and again...

"Stormcrow!"



"Stormcrow!"

My son calls for his dad at least once every 5 minutes for the entire time he is within vocal distance of him. This drives "Stormcrow" nuts! Bats! Up the wall!

I have a different perspective: first, at least the boy-child leaves me alone most of the time. Second, being removed from the situation, I get to swoop in and solve the problem. And I do. I pop right into the situation and tell everyone what needs to be done in order for life to continue in a happy direction.

The problem arises, then: Stormcrow wants the situation to be taken care of with maximum speed, but he doesn't necessarily look at how that will progress in the future.

For example, how do you solve the not-going-to-bed-until-I-get-"x"? Give the boy-child "x". And then boy-child will believe that asking for something will get him a bed-time deferment. I can see that giving the boy-child a granola bar will lead to bed-time snacks EVERY NIGHT. But Stormcrow needs a reminder.

I am also struck by the fact that my relationship is a bit gender-switched. This leads me to think that it really doesn't matter who does what aspect of parenting, so long as all of the parenting is somehow done.

So, here I sit, watching Stormcrow answer the boy-child's summons while rocking the baby-girl to sleep.

Left Turn, No Blinker

There are two ways to approach having children: a) they will fit into your pre-existing life, and b) your life does a 180, loop-the-loop, barrel roll, screetching halt, speedy reverse with drifting...

Anyone who thinks that they can go with A is in for a shock. It just doesn't work that way.

Children are like bank robbers who get trapped with the bank CEO, surrounded by SWAT. They are desperate to get their own way and somewhat delusional that they might actually do so. Any negotiation with the hostage takers will only result in encouraging their behavior. DO NOT NEGOTIATE. They will NOT release your life to it's previous existence.

For pagans, this is even more so the case. We used to go to ritual, engage in various activities for achieving altered states, some form of "free lovin", a little bit of nudity, playing with fire and bladed weapons, staying up all night, dancing around fires...

Now? Supper is at 6, pj's and books at 7, and bedtime is 8, and the goddess split the skull of anyone who dares to disturb that most sacred of rituals.

Where solstice used to be a revelry of unprecedented Bacchanalia, it now consists of barely getting the kids outside before the sun sets (cuz you disrupted the sacred ritual, silly!), trying to light a fire in the firepit with wet firewood (cuz it's been raining for a week and you were just happy that all the family was indoors - forget worrying about the wood!), while using free limbs (arms, legs, head) to keep the kids from sticking their "helpful" fingers into the flames, then trying to make up a story about the sun on the spot (cuz you certainly haven't had any time to PREPARE) and having it interrupted every 30 seconds by questions you may or may not know the answer to until you don't know which way is up.

But it's all worth it because every family member joined in waving goodbye to the setting sun and that seems far more spiritual than turning in a circle to address each of the cardinal directions.

Happy Solstice (late, of course)!!

On the Road Again: Parenting in Hotels, at Vendor Events

Once upon a time (last year), I started a business with Phil (hi, Phil! *waves frantically*). Many moons later (last month), we got some stuff and took it to the kingdom of Omaha. The King of Omaha (yo, Charlie! of Next Millenium) held a grand festival (Mystic Fest) every year, during which he invited Phil and myself, as well as many others, to present our stuff in a semi-organized fashion.

Yup, me and Phil went to Omaha to do a show. We got 2 1/2 tables this year. Ok, it was 3 tables, but we gave 1/2 a table to PAN. Woot!!

Ok, so, we traveled all the way out there with a 5 mo (we left the 4 yo at home with grama, cuz we are CRAZY not STUPID!) and got to our hotel. EPIC KUDOS to my dad, who made reservations for me. We were literally on the other side of a parking lot from where we were doing the show. LITERALLY. *happy dances across the parking lot*

Now, I get to spend much of my time with my daughter with my shirt off or otherwise exposing portions of my breastesses. The "downside" of breastfeeding. I say "downside" in quotes, cuz most non-prudish, straight-ish males can't figure out the downside of exposed breastesses.

So, I spent two full days at the event, juggling the baby back and forth between me, daddy, Phil and our Fae-helper, as well as Fay (of Crone's Creations, aka Wytch Way Wear) and her helper/friend person. Oh, and half the vendors at the show.

Baby-moochers.

During set-up, we found that a bottle of money-oil spilled into the plastic baggie (yay for ziplock bags), so we greased up our hands periodically. Then we rubbed the oil on the baby's butt and called her the Money-baby.

Trust me, it was cute.

I have to say, a baby in a hotel is always easier than a toddler or pre-schooler. I've seen so many people worried about taking the baby on trips. Trust me, at that age, they are sooooo easy to travel with.

Oh, you want to know how we did? Well, check out the pic... Do we LOOK happy?








Cute BABY PIC!!!

No Longer the Single Parent: Getting a Houseboy, or How to Keep a Home Clean with a Preschooler

Ok. The title is a joke. It's meant to be funny.

Not because I use the term "houseboy," but because anyone with a preschooler knows, there is no keeping the house clean.

Wow, it's been about 3 months since I made the decision. I decided to get back together with the father of my youngest (almost a 6 mo). He moved in within a few weeks and I began the way I always begin - with complete honesty.

I said, "Honey, I'm a demanding bitch. But you will always know where you stand."

I think he thought I was joking. Or at least exaggerating.

Nope.

So now I have a full grown man to chase my son, watch my daughter, clean house and cook meals. I know, right? I've got it made in the shade.

Well, except he doesn't know much about raising kids, cleaning house or cooking.

I get mad sometimes, frustrated often, and I praise him whenever he does good work. For example, I told him that dinner tonight (baked chicken, mixed veggies and stuffing) was wonderful. And it was.

However, three hours ago, I looked up how to cook a chicken cuz he put it in the oven at the temp he thought it should be and for the time he guessed was right. B'gak!!

Two days ago, I gave him the eyebrow (left eyebrow raised in the WTF look) because he wanted to actually cook the stuffing inside the chicken. As in, put it in the raw bird. Something that nutritionists everywhere have warned against for decades, now.

I may have told him his idea was quaint... Or antiquated. I'm not sure which. I'm pretty sure I didn't call him names... Pretty sure...

I also remind him frequently that messes should be cleaned immediately unless you want stains. Skid marks don't belong on the toilet seat. And thou shalt not soak the cast iron in water with the wooden utensils. Gah!!

But all Mr. Mom-humor moments aside, he is totally invaluable to me. He likes to grind wheatberries and use the sifter to sift out flour for REAL whole wheat bread (which he loves to make - though I need to get him to understand that rising times are not just a kinda-suggestion).

He thought it was the greatest thing since (whole wheat) sliced bread when I bought, not one, but TWO meat grinders AND a shoulder roast for him to make ground beef. At this rate, his birthday gift is gonna be a breeze!

Oh, and he's super sweet, and cuddly too! (Though the bastard has lost more than 30 lbs since moving in... Grrrr! I've only lost about 5 lbs.) He makes me coffee in the morning while I take a shower and turns on the news for me. He makes lunch for me to take to work everyday. He has supper going when I get home. He brings in the mail every day. And he takes bug to the park (an event of epic proportions in and of itself).

So, all in all, I think we are a happier, more smoothly-running family because of him. And he's warm. He warms my butt at night.

What? You've never had a cold butt at night? It's a serious medical-ish condition.