But really (there's a reason agnostics don't have five kids)

And here are some more reasons.

Because agnostics, at least around here, don't have a huge community that takes care of you like the church. It is just true. It does take a village, it does, it does, it does. Oh how I miss weekly and monthly get-togethers where the kids had friends, I had friends, and we all did something fun with this huge tribe of people.

Because you can no longer answer every question with, "Because that's what God has commanded/wants us to do"/some version of this. As an agnostic, you are likely a very moral person who cares deeply about doing the right thing. You probably believe your children deserve respect and that they are unique beings with a right to learn and a right to choose their destiny.  So you have to think - hard - when you give answers to questions. You want to be careful about not saying too much--actually, you probably want to respond to your child's questions with some very good questions for them to think about and answer. Or simply, "What do you think?" And then listen.  Listen a LOT. Listening is hard and oftentimes it takes so much patience and control. It is way easier to just answer and always be the expert.

Another thing, I still believe that responsibility, hard work, kindness and compassion can be developed - in children and adults. But as someone who was well-trained in Christianity and Christianity's reasons for these traits, it takes a lot of reflection to discover what these ideals really mean and how they are really mastered without fear of punishment or hope of reward. I'll probably be working on just this my whole life.

Because you no longer feel good about controlling their behavior "for their good" or "because God would want me to". Instead, you try to find meaning in how they behave, and try to discover what few behaviors are actually bad (ie dangerous ones) and how many are actually just information that something isn't right (they are hungry, they are tired, they are children and are still learning how to be polite/kind/socially adept/patient), etc. You realize how rarely people, and especially children, are actually "being bad". And you could be patient if you had to put up with some less than ideal behavior from two or three kids, but five kids? You probably need to be superhuman.

Because you no longer feel like you absolutely positively must do everything perfect and if you do, they will turn out perfectly, serve missions, marry in the temple, and go to heaven. And losing that "guarantee" of sorts is a loss. It was really motivating as a parent to think I had so much control over who my kids became.  They were going to be my reward, in a sense, a reflection of how great of a mom I was. Sure, I still feel like I can hopefully be a positive influence, a trustworthy guide. But there are no guarantees and I realize parenting them this way that I am releasing them from an obligation to turn out like me or like my vision for them. And this leads to all sorts of other things ... like realizing I better make something of myself because they get to be who they are for them (not for me). And to become something myself I need some time to develop me ... which is a challenge with five kids. (Not impossible, I hope?)

Because, patience. To raise kids without rewards and punishments, heaven and hell, prophets, Gods and devils, it takes patience.  To be willing to try again, every day, when no one is going to tell you you are a good parent (in fact, they may be telling you the opposite directly or indirectly). To be willing to admit that you make just as many mistakes on the path as your kids. To be willing to listen to them, to wait for them to figure things out themselves - even through making mistakes they could have avoided with your intervention - to foster the confidence that can only come through choosing for themselves. To push yourself to lay off all the advice-giving and start saying more and more often, at teenage-hood if not before, "You got this. I believe in you. You will figure it out. Tell me what your plan is, and how I can help".

there's a reason agnostics don't have five kids.

And the reason is this: Because it's dang hard.

Family Night 2.0 - Learning to Make a Joke

In 2014, just months before I decided to leave the church, we spent a wonderful week on an Alaskan Cruise with my adult siblings, their spouses, and my parents. A highlight of the trip was going to shows put on by a comedian - David Naster.  He had some pretty great sets, but being the serious type that I am, I really perked up when he got a little serious - about being silly.

He talked about how effective jokes can be at diffusing tough situations like heartache or just plain meanness. He gave some examples, like a teacher joking back at a student who was trying to put her down, or overweight kids who responded to teasing with a clever comeback instead of retreating to a corner to cry.

I appreciated his perspective because ... I'm usually the one who retreats to a corner to cry.  And with my kids, I really try hard to be empathetic when it comes to hard experiences because I think all feelings need to be honored in order to move forward in a healthy way. Nevertheless, he really had a point with the humor bit because I know that responding like I have in the past certainly hasn't led to less teasing and more respect.  Maybe there's a time to use humor and later a time to receive empathy from those you love and trust.

So I wondered ... could we help teach our kids to learn to respond to some situations with humor?

Who knows, but it made for an enjoyable and therapeutic (maybe?) family night.

Sidenote: We Will Rock You made for an awesome opening song. (Bumh bumh chhh, bumh bumh chhh).

I asked each of the kids to take a piece of paper and write down a time when someone hurt their feelings or made them angry.  They didn't necessarily have to write the name of the person - it might have just been "my friend" or "my boss" and just a short description of what the person said or did.

We put all the papers in a bowl.  Then we divided into teams of 2 people.  Each team took out 2 papers (hopefully not their own).  Then that team had to go figure out a way to act out the situations described ... with a punchline ending. In other words, one person was the tease/meanie, and the other had to respond with their best joke/comeback.

We came back together and role played what we had practiced for the rest of the family. I don't know why, but my kids love games like this - any kind of acting or charades.  And they seemed to like the chance to talk about the times when their feelings had been hurt and what their actual response had been vs. what it might be today.

Some examples:

My boss asks me what am I going to do to bring in a lot more business by the end of the month (when I'm already working super hard).

My friend called me a "butthead."

Mom yelled at me (Me being the dog - she participated, too, since we have an odd number in our family. Admittedly, this could have been from one of the kids, too.)

A teacher got angry at me for being in a room that she thought I wasn't supposed to be in, but I had permission to be there.

And then we ate ice cream because if there is anything we believe, it is that Family Night is NOT Family Night without refreshments. Amen!

Conversations with my mom in my head

Me: Do you believe the inquisition was wrong?
My Mom: Yes.
Do you believe the holy wars were wrong?
Yes.
Is it wrong for ISIS to kill and suicide bomb based on religious belief?
Yes.
Do you think it is right for Arab men to force the women (by law) to cover up?
Yes.
Do you think it is right for some countries to deny their female children equal access to education?
Is it wrong for religions/governments to use propaganda?  Or control outside information?
Yes.
Is it wrong for Muslims to believe that if they kill themselves in Jihad that they will be given so many virgins in heaven?
Yes.
Did Warren Jeffs do bad things?
Yes.
Do you approve of any fundamentalist religion practicing polygamy today?
No.


Mom, I think it was wrong of Joseph Smith to lie to his wife.  I think it was wrong of Joseph Smith to practice polygamy, to approach married women or young converts and threaten them with spiritual destruction if they refused him. I call that manipulation, exploitation ... abuse.

I think it is wrong for Mormon women to constantly be haunted by the idea of polygamy, and Mormon men to entertain the idea that they may have many more wives if not in this life in the next.

I think it is wrong for us to say that we are the only ones who can or did practice polygamy righteously.  I believe it is probably a rotten practice when people choose to live that way without coercion, I believe when it is a practice undergone due to religious faith, that constitutes abuse.

I think it was wrong for Joseph Smith to destroy a printing press which was printing unflattering - but true - facts about his practices.

I think it is wrong for the LDS church to have tried for decades to control the flow of information to its members, editing out many important details that could have led to greater understanding and choice when it came to their belief.

I think it is wrong for us to believe that we are different and inherently better than all the other world religions.  We are the same.  I think our beliefs are typical in their self-centered and narcissistic nature.

I believe that we are no better and no worse than any other people in all the world.  I am tired of the impossible task of  calling ourselves sacred, and calling ourselves specifically sacred because we engage in the same self-centered, abusive, and wrong practices that all other religions engage in.

pushing around heavy souls (a poem)

I saw him on the way to bring the kids home from school

He was graceful

And his baseball cap belied his masculinity

As he gently pushed the storm drain cement pipe

Hoisted by a crane, rooting for the earth
15 feet long and it’s girth almost as wide as he was tall

And it responded to his touch

Beautifully

By swinging just the right amount,

In just the right direction

Over the deep rectangular pit that had been dug for it

In the warm black clay earth.

I am maneuvering heavy souls

That appear as freckled, gangly bodies

With dirt under their nails and and germy fingers

Disheveled hair

Sometimes teary-eyes, sometimes impertinent

And I push them

Too hard

Too fast

It feels wreckless

And sometimes I want to jump back

Or just run away

My feet won’t move

And I’m there to catch them

As they spin back around

To crush me

My body slows their momentum

Or is it my heart

My ribs are crushed

Or is it my heart

My knees buckle

Or is it my heart

And I realize they nor I will ever get up

I’ll be holding my heavy souls on my lap

All my life

Or is it my heart

i wake up each day to someone else's life

I feel bewildered.  Lost is not too strong a term.  But not lost in that I wish I hadn’t gotten lost.  Lost in that I know I’m where I’m supposed to be, but it is so very very unfamiliar.  And I miss familiar – a lot.

I feel like I am waking up in someone else's bed with someone else's life. This probably has a lot to do with the fact that simultaneous to my setting myself adrift from the church, we moved twice in one year.  I live in an unfamiliar house in an unfamiliar neighborhood.  My kids go to different school, I shop at new stores.  I watch the sunrise and sunset from a different vantage point now that we are in the west plains rather than the East benches.  The pittering quail and overgrown trees of Sandy have been replaced with winter’s fallow fields and swarms of black and white birds swarming in big empty skies. It’s a good life, it’s a nice place, but nothing feels familiar.  Did I mention this is very disconcerting? I would not flinch if I looked in the mirror and saw a different countenance than the one that has appeared for the last 37 years. 

men and women

Men, through Joseph, are bestowed with an identity of being special, of communing with God, of trail blazing and commanding and fighting off naysayers.  And if this is the legacy of Joseph for men, Emma’s legacy for women is one of being lied to, neglected, cheated on, and having treasured withheld from her (seeing the plates for example) as her part in the role of bringing to pass God’s work.  This is what I learned from her – so when my efforts at noble obedience seemed to result in betrayal or neglect or failure, what was I to suppose?  That all of this could very well be my part to play, his plan for me.

But then, how in the world could I love God?  

And in fact, in the end, I hated him.  I continued to be obedient, but my feelings betrayed me.  I could not will myself to love a God like this.  I hated him and I hated myself for not glibly going along, a smile on my face, loving this wonderful God who had given me so much.  I hated myself – I do have so much – a wonderful family, wonderful children – how could I be so ungrateful?  I must just be rotten, and that is how I felt.  But deep down, I could only see God as a two-timer, double-speaker who told me he loved me but was willing to crush me under his heel if that meant furthering his plan.