If this is pride, it's a funny way to go about it

Today I had to go to Lowe's, even though the kids and I are still sick, and the last thing I want is for them to get their gooey little hands all over a germy shopping cart. But my special order stain was in, and since this door job we're trying to do is more than three months overdue, I had to stuff everybody in the van and just go do it.

BUT before I could leave the house, I had to find a top/skirt/shoe/coat combo that would work with the weather and with my own ego. As I struggled with my closet on this, I had to ask myself (again) just why I am going through this. What is so wrong with just throwing on some jeans? It's not like there's anybody at Lowe's who gives a darn about what they're wearing (Lowe's is a lot like Wal-Mart in that respect). And I don't want to look like I'm headed to church. But it's hard to go casual in a skirt, especially in November. I wanted to look modest (thus the skirt) but also sporty and Northwest-y enough to "pass muster" with the fashion critics lodged in my head.

Was I falling victim to pride? I thought about it...and concluded that while my own desire to achieve a certain "look" was probably prideful, it would have been just as prideful to throw on the jeans and then smirk at everybody in the store who didn't look as "put together" as I did, or whose butts looked bigger in their pants, or whatever. I discovered that there's always pride, no matter what we're wearing. If anything, wearing the skirt humbles me because I can't be all that my ego wants, being constrained by the modesty standards.

But it made me think again about this whole issue of pride, and whether dressing according to modesty principles is "prideful" because dressing differently tends to attract attention.

This is, perhaps, the biggest reason why Christians don't adopt more conservative dress. Some do, and I'm not trying to exclude them. But for many people in the pews, the last thing they want to do is stick out in the crowd. Part of it is human nature. Heck, even animals try to blend in with their environment--it's a form of self-defense for them, and for us, too. However much we proclaim that we have a "free" country and that people can do whatever they want to do, it's the rare person that swims upstream in the way they dress. For some, this may be a source of pride, particularly if done in a rebellious spirit...like the first hippies who wore their hair long, or when women burned their bras. Their flinging off of social mores in dress was done to attract attention, to make a statement, and to send out a big Boston raspberry to the establishment.

But now our society is full of "hippies" who think they are swimming upstream by their way-out modes of dress, so the image has become rather commonplace. And I would say that the last thing this new hippie generation is doing by their dress is making a statement, political or otherwise. They are just trying to fit in with a particular group that they feel best represents their beliefs and opinions. And there's really nothing wrong with that. I wouldn't accuse them of pride at all, even if they felt "proud" of their particular group. It's OK to have pride in who you are. Some people, like Erykah Badu--who often wears a very large and very distinctive African headdress--wear garments that remind themselves (and others) of their roots, and there's no sin in that. Many Americans, out of political correctness, would fall all over themselves to welcome such people and make them feel comfortable, because we've been told that they have a right to express themselves.

What then, are we to think about those among us who adopt a distinctive dress because of religion? Are they way-out? Are they motivated by rebelliousness, or pride? On the contrary, whenever I see a Muslim man in a turban or a woman in a hijab, the last thing I think they are doing is being prideful. In some countries where certain religions are persecuted, people may not even be able to wear distinctive religious garments. We should be glad that Muslims are free to wear what they want.

Some Orthodox Jewish women practice a form of modesty called tznius, which is very strict and regulated. They delineate which areas of the woman's actual bone structure are to be covered or uncovered. Granted, it may not exactly be popular in this country, but is there a big outcry over it? No, the woman's beliefs are simply accepted, because she has a right to express her culture and her religion, and the last thing anybody wants to be accused of is anti-Semitism. Even the babushka ladies at the grocery store remind us that there are many eastern cultures that are making their home here in the United States, and we have a duty to be hospitable and welcoming to these new immigrants.

So now we come to that great silent religion, Christianity. We are the only religion that cannot express ourselves through dress without some form of persecution. But, oddly enough, the persecution tends to come from fellow Christians. Early on in the Reformation, "clerical" garb was quickly discarded by the reformers, because it smacked of Catholicism. Priests and religious have always made easy targets because of the way they dress. Even today, laws that punish religious garb--especially that of Catholics--are in effect or on the table in France and India. And do you think that, left to themselves, they would have wanted it that way? Probably not. There may be nothing harder to bear in the life of a priest than the constant stares, comments, and inevitable questions that arise because of his Roman collar.

Obviously there is a great good in the distinctive dress of priests and religious, as there is in celibacy, or the Church would not have decreed it. For some, the sight of a man or woman of God gives them great comfort and hope, even if they are not Christian. At least there is a person who stands up for what he or she believes and is available to others' needs, as it says in the Gospel. While Blessed Mother Theresa may have adopted her plain white sari because it was common, and poor, it has become the uniform of an army--her Missionaries of Charity. When a poor person looks up out of a gutter and sees that white sari, he sees Mother--and when he sees her, he sees the hand of God.

And I don't think that a laywoman of the Church who gradually transitions her wardrobe over to skirts, jumpers, and dresses is going to incite a lot of turmoil in other people's hearts. Despite Gospel ideals, human nature drives people to be far more concerned about themselves than they ever would be about somebody else's minute details of dress. If guys in the NFL can have dreadlocks cascading out of their helmets, it should not be a violation of anybody else's sensibilities if I put on a wool plaid skirt and go out into the rain.

Is dressing "differently," then, a prideful act? As I hope I have already proved, it can be if done in an in-your-face way, or for specious reasons. Or it can be one of the most humbling things you can do. I don't think anybody who wears offbeat dress for a well-thought-out reason is acting out of deadly sin-type pride. It can be just as dangerous to your soul to "blend in." You could make the argument that those who run to keep up with the latest fashion are falling victim to pride. You could say that aging women who dye their hair and teeth and wear lots of makeup are falling prey to pride. What about people who go to such great lengths to achieve and keep a perfect body? What about people who drive Hummers? Once you start pointing that finger, there is no end to it. The truth is that we are all battling pride in some form or another. And there is no telling, just by looking, who it is. I think the most dangerous thing we can do is second-guess people's motives for how they dress or act. We just don't know.

And when it comes to various stripes of Christian who are struggling to bring back more conservative and graceful modes of dress, in line with their own cultures and religious heritage--they should be encouraged rather than criticized. We may be a small minority, and our form of dress may not be everybody's cup of tea, but we are within our rights in this country, and we should use them while we have them, lest even what we have be taken away.

One Ugly Baby

Not to toot my own horn or anything, but while I've never considered myself especially attractive, I'm constantly told that I have cute kids (must be my husband's half of the equation). This is Tom, who's one year old, and in this picture he is hanging onto the coffee table for the first time. Yeehaw!



Now this is what happens when my little guy gets his hands onto a dairy product.




Welcome to the world of food allergies. I used to do a lot of reading on this type of thing, when I was going through my "food fads" in college. But now I have absolutely no interest in the subject. When I was in the military, I came to respect ordinary food, so I now look askance at all the "health food" that's out nowadays and their claims to be fat-free, wheat-free, vegan, organic, or whatever. I never thought I would have a baby who couldn't do dairy. So now I have to cudgel my brain to figure out what to do with this baby. We've been feeding him soy formula, which he does OK on. I mean, would you put milk in his mouth if you saw it do this to his face?

My midwife insisted that it was I who caused the allergy by giving Tom his first taste of cow formula when I put his first bottle in his mouth at the nine month mark. I'm still not talking to her. My doctor says he's probably not allergic to it, but then again, she's never seen him like this. To me, this screams, "I HAVE A FOOD ALLERGY! DO NOT FEED ME THIS STUFF!"

So what's a concerned mother to do? He is now a year old, and I am getting really sick of buying $40 worth of formula at Wal-Mart every month. And yet, store-bought soy milk in the aseptic containers is almost as expensive, and not nearly as fortified as the powdered stuff. The cheapest I've been able to find it is for $1.25 a quart, if I buy it by the case on markdown.

The other wrinkle to this situation was the discovery of my own intolerance of dairy. So now I consume almost a quart a day, not counting what Tom would need. In desperation, I asked the Hillbilly Housewife what to do.

Her answer rocked my socks!

The solution is to buy a thing called a soy milk maker, which is apparently very popular in Japan and other Asian cultures that do a lot with soy. She linked to the Sanlinx web page where I found and ordered my new toy. While the machine costs $90 to $120, it pays for itself very quickly, since you can get soybeans for a song. It also comes with a one-year warranty, and right now they're offering a promotional two-year warranty, which I got when I ordered my SoyaPower. The thing that ultimately convinced me were all the unsolicited testimonials on their site, including some people who had a problem with their machine or a part and were satisfied with the service.

Making your own soy milk isn't as simple as making coffee, however. You soak the beans for at least 6 hours, then rinse and put them in the filter basket. You fill the canister up to the mark (about 1.8 quarts), then put the whole thing together and press a button. That's the simplest part. The machine heats the water, the blade pulverizes the beans, the cycle runs about 15 minutes, and beeps when it's done. Then you pull the top off and clean the heater element and blade. The filter you pull off and either save or discard the mashed bean by-product inside (hint: don't throw it away, lots of good uses for it). Then you have to clean the filter. The filter is not easy to clean. Your best bet is to buy the Magic Cleaner that they sell, or be like me and make the little sample they give you last as long as possible. You soak the filter in the solution, and next day it's pristine and ready to use again. Meanwhile, you pour the soy milk into a clean container and flavor it with sugar or vanilla or whatever you want to put in it. It takes some finagling to get a comparable taste to the store-bought stuff, if that's what you like. You don't need to buy the special "Laura" beans that they keep touting. One thing I did extra that really helps the texture is that I filter the final product through a paper towel in a Brita pitcher. Otherwise, there is a substantial amount of grit that gets through the filter.

For now I am giving Tom half soy formula and half soy milk from the SoyaPower. When the formula runs out, I'll give him all soy milk with maybe a dose of Poly-Vi-Sol a day. Along with his Claritin.

A Primer on Virtue, or...how not to feel like a failure

Geez, I wish I could think of more light-hearted things to post about. Maybe it's the weather, and the fact that my neck of the woods tends to be clouded over for more than half the year. In summertime, you only have to paint your toenails once and you could probably get through the whole sandal season.

This is the time of year when people tend to retreat into their homes, turn on the tube, and eat lots of treats. Lately I've been ruminating, a dangerous thing to do in winter when you have two little tykes and don't get out much. My bad habit is to start thinking about all the things that have "gone wrong" and all the things I should have done to prevent it. Like, I could have married another man to prevent Dean's gall bladder surgery and us having to pay the medical bills. Or how it was my fault we bought this house and now I can't get out from under all our home improvement projects.

It is so distressing when you have all these thoughts and plans and expectations built up about what's going to happen--and then something unforseen (and potentially disastrous) blows them all into smithereens. How do you get through this kind of thing, mentally? How do you avoid the thought that it's somehow all YOUR fault? Or that God has turned his face away, as it says so many times in the Psalms?

You could think about how much better you've got it than so many other people in the world. What I mean to say is, you could think things like, "At least we have a roof over our heads," "At least we have our health" (Oops! You can't think that unless everybody is healthy!), "At least we live in a free country" (even that is up for debate). Oh well, you get the drift. But that is a pretty negative way of looking at things, and it only makes me feel worse. Is there a more positive way to deal with stress and upset?

1. You could read the lives of the saints. Yes, 'tis the season to go and get yerself a volume of those, if they're not already on your shelf. Personally, I think saints are fascinating. Their lives were so difficult that you have to admire the fact that they got through it at all, and to top it off, made it to heaven to boot. Plus they are comfortably distant, so you aren't guilt-ridden over the fact that they are alive somewhere in the world suffering while you're making banana bread.

2. Read up on the virtues, and teach them to your kids. Wikipedia is a pretty good place to start to research something, even Catholic things. They list the cardinal virtues as: prudence, justice, temperance, and fortitude. The theological virtues are faith, hope, and love--as in charity (it has been posited that only Christians can have these virtues). Alternatively, you could list out the seven deadly sins and then look to their antitheses: lust/chastity, gluttony/moderation, greed/generosity, sloth/zeal, wrath/meekness, envy/charity, and pride/humility. This would also make a good examination of conscience. Instead of trying to figure out what deadly sin you committed, you could ask yourself, "How did I fail to embody the virtues?"

3. Remind yourself that success in God's eyes is not success in the eyes of the world. Oh, how difficult this is! Don't think I am sitting here all smug thinking I've got the answers to everything. I am struggling just as much as anybody--I just choose to embarrass myself by committing it to a literary format. What I mean is, we have to keep telling ourselves that the Christian ideal has never been to put our kids through college and retire with fat bank accounts. Even the saints who have gone out into the wilderness to convert pagans, only to be murdered, were a smashing success in God's eyes. Even Mother Theresa (pray for us!) would have been a success in God's eyes if she never even opened one Missionaries of Charity convent. Because she would have been doing what He asked.

When things start going "wrong," what we need to do is to start examining ourselves and asking, "Am I living the virtues today? Which ones am I great at? Which ones are missing from my life?" If we could focus more on whether we are acting according to the virtues, then when disaster strikes we can at least tell ourselves we acted in the right way according to right intentions. The rest is up to God.