L.M. Montgomery's Theology and Later Anne Literature

Oh, no. She's not going to write about L.M. Montgomery again, surely?

Well, yes, I'm afraid I have to. When you immerse yourself in a literary series, you can't just drop the characters with the snap of your fingers, anymore than you can drop your best friend.

Nor, I'm finding, can you drop the author quickly. One needs closure.

Montgomery and Her Critics

While the reading public, and some other writers, loved Montgomery's material, especially her Anne, literary critics didn't agree that Montgomery was amazing. Anne's character, they complained "was the same at the end of the novel as she was at the beginning." Critics love a character who evolves, not just one who delights and charms your socks off.

The critics dismissed Montgomery's work as "mere children's literature", as though that were a bad thing. Never mind that some of her genius, like some of Mark Twain's, manifested in the writing of dialogue. This woman could weave a tale, flesh out multiple unforgettable characters, and make them say the funniest things, page after fascinating page.

And to me at least, her dialogue never seems contrived, though it's often funny or profound social commentary. Her work displayed plenty of genius...and what's not to love about children's literature, anyway? It certainly isn't second-class literature! Critics can be downright pompous.

Montgomery didn't disagree with her critics. She thought her work was well done for what it was, but not deep. The one great novel never came for her, in her opinion. If it didn't, possibly it was because she was a true working mother, and needed to produce work that would generate a regular income--thus, her 500 short stories, in addition to her 21 novels. Her family needed her income, especially during the Great Depression. The pressure and her husband's mental illness, and her own depression, stifled some creativity, I'm sure, but personally, I find her work fulfilling and excellent, and meant for adults as much as for older children.

Later Works in the Anne Series (there are 9 Anne of Green Gables books)

Lucy felt her talent was in writing young characters, so books 7 and 8 barely mention Anne and Gilbert. I've finished books 7, Rainbow Valley (about Anne's 6 children growing up at Ingleside and meeting new friends), and 8, Rilla of Ingleside (about their youngest child, Rilla, who starts the novel at age 15) of the Anne of Green Gables series, which were not quite as wholesome as the earlier ones, but still plenty moral. (I'll explain the bit of unwholesomeness further down.) They are for older teens and adults.

The 9th and final book The Blithes Are Quoted, was delivered to the publisher on the day Lucy died, April, 1942, but the publisher felt the anti-war sentiment was too strong to warrant a publishing during World War 11. After the war, the manuscript collected dust for years in a vault. (While I've read numerous reviews, I don't have this 9th book yet).

While Rilla of Ingleside (book 8), a World War 1 novel, was patriotic, Lucy apparently changed her views by World War ll, and a futility-of-war sentiment made its way into her final volume. It was finally removed from the vault and published in 1974--32 years later--in a highly cut form, entitled The Road to Yesterday. Only in 2009 did Lucy's original work come out in an unabridged form with the original title, The Blithes Are Quoted. It's a Canadian issue book and will not be easy to find (more expensive); nevertheless, I do want it for closure.

Not a traditional novel, The Blithes Are Quoted is a collection of many poems attributed to Anne and her son Walter, as well as numerous short stories that mention the Blithes as distant neighbors, but are not about the Blithe family. Most of the poems and short stories were previously published in magazines, but Lucy put them together in this format, connecting them to the Blithes in some way. Weaved around the short stories, which are darker in theme than her other works, Anne reads her or her son's poetry to members of her family seated around her, and the family discusses the poems and reminisceses. That's how the reader catches up on Anne and her children, and learns about the grandchildren. Anne and Gilbert end the book in their seventies.

Not so satisfying as a novel--not the same level of detail about the character's lives--but an original format and an attempt from Lucy to branch out with different literary styles. There are some problems with the piece in that dates don't match up and children's names aren't quite right, so it's somewhat apparent that Lucy was under the influence of prescription drugs when she wrote it. The name and date inconsistencies were not edited out, but perhaps in a later edition they will be.

Montgomery's Theology

After a little more research, I've learned that L.M. Montgomery was not a Christian. In fact, she had a conflicted relationship with religion all her life, having been raised by very strict religious grandparents who were all rules but no heart.

In conjunction with the religious conflict, Lucy Montgomery, among many others in the early 20th century, became intrigued with occult-like ideas, such as playing with Ouija boards and contemplating ghosts and apparitions. A lot of Lucy's later books have premonitions/apparitions and "prophetic" dreams in them--enough to make the Christian in me squirm. In fact, I won't let my children read beyond book 7 until their late teens. I've read recently that Montgomery's Emily trilogy also has some ghostly themes, although I'm sure there's plenty of wholesomeness in it too. The Blithes are Quoted has some ghost tales as well.

Montgomery's books are moral, but not Christian. She intersperses Scripture and theology in them, but if you read carefully, you see that absolute Truth is not upheld; there's definitely some humanism in there. She became more disillusioned with religion and faith as she aged; the two World Wars may have had something to do with that. She took them very hard.

To be fair, the years from 1914-1918 (World War One), followed by the Great Depression from 1930 to the end of World War Two in 1945, were some of the darker times in world history. They were bunched together, not giving people much time to recover their hope and joy. Not to mention all the death from disease during these same years! I can't imagine living through these decades unscathed. Even those who weren't clinically depressed could easily become so while trying to survive.

The Roaring 20's weren't so roaring for those who mourned a son, a husband, a brother, or a sweetheart from the war.

Back to Lucy's theology....If you read carefully, you see religious conflict in her books. Most of them poke fun at church-goers, specifically at the hypocrisy and the emphasis on outward appearances rather than the heart. She did not raise her two boys as Christians, and she only married a clergyman because he was a B.A., which meant something really grand to her. She didn't love him, but she started out with respect for him. Her own education didn't include a B.A., and that's something she always regretted.

If you need proof she wasn't a Christian, you'll find it in her personal journals, which have all been published. I am saddened by reading this, as you will be. One can only wonder the beauty that could have been, had Christ released her from darkness. If you are saved, be thankful. Our open eyes are such a gift. I don't understand why some and not others, Lord, but I trust you.

Here is an excerpt from her journal entry dated Tuesday, February 3, 1920:

Lucy Maud Montgomery's words:"I believe in a God who is good and beautiful and just - but not omnipotent. It is idle to ask me to believe in a God who is both good and omnipotent. Given the conditions of history and life the two things are irreconcilable. To believe that God is omnipotent but not purely good - well, it would solve a good many puzzling mysteries. Nevertheless, it is a belief that the human soul instinctively shrinks from. Well, then, I believe in God who is good but not omnipotent. I also believe in a Principle of Evil, equal to God in power - at least, at present - opposing hideousness to His beauty, evil to His good, tyranny to His justice, darkness to His light. I believe that an infinite ceaseless struggle goes on between them, victory now inclining to the one, now to the other. So far, my creed is the old Persian creed of the eternal conflict between Ahrimanes and Ormuzd. But I did not take it over from the Persian. My own mind has compelled me to it, as the only belief that is in rational agreement with the universe as we know it.

I believe that if we range ourselves on the side of good the result will be of benefit to ourselves in this life and, if our spirit survives bodily death, as in some form I feel sure it will, in all succeeding lives; conversely, if we yield or do evil the results will be disastrous to us. And I admit the possibility of our efforts aiding to bring about sooner the ultimate victory of good.

That victory will come - perhaps not in the time of our universe - perhaps not for the duration of many such universes - but eventually evil, which is destructive, will be conquered by good and remain in subjection for age-long duration. Perhaps forever; and perhaps all eternity devoid of all evil would be tiresome even to God, who, like us, may find in struggle a greater delight than in achievement - a greater delight in contest with his peers that in unquestioned supremacy over vanquished foes. Perhaps alternate light and darkness - the alternate waxing and waning of evil must follow each other through the unnumbered, the unnumberable cons of Eternity, even as night and day follow each other in our little system.

This is my creed, it explains all which would otherwise puzzle me hopelessly; it satisfies me and comforts me.

Orthodox Christianity says reproachfully, "Would you do away with my hope of heaven?" The hope of heaven is too dearly balanced by the fear of hell and the one thing implies the other. I believe in neither: but I believe that life goes on and on endlessly in incarnation after incarnation, co-existent with God, and Anti-god, rejoicing, suffering, as good or evil wins the upper hand. To me, such an anticipation is infinitely more attractive than the dull effortless, savorless existence pictured to us as the heaven of rest and reward. Rest! It is a good thing; but one does not want an eternity of it. All we ask rest for is to gain fresh strength for renewed effort. Reward! Even in this life reward once tasted, soon loses its flavor. Our best reward is in the joy of the struggle."
 

 

More on Lucy Maud Montgomery (Updated)

* This piece was updated at 10 AM to include one more article on the end of Lucy's life, placed at the end of this blog post.

Below is a repost of a Guardian article revealing Lucy Maud Montgomery's suicide, which the family kept a secret until 2008. Lucy's granddaughter, Kate Macdonald Butler, reveals the suicide in a long article for Canada's Globe and Mail.

Below the Guardian article, I post the "suicide" note itself. It doesn't look like a suicide note to me. She was an isolated person, and I don't know how well her family--her husband and her two sons--knew her on the inside. Would they have known definitively that it was a suicide note? I do know that her husband's condition had deteriorated terribly, and that her oldest son was living in her basement at the time, so things were not good at all. She was greatly burdened, after having covered for her husband in the ministry for years. I imagine he had retired for some years though.

I didn't emphasize before that Lucy achieved international success as a writer. Almost immediately, Anne of Green Gables became a bestseller. She had an active fan club, which she participated in readily for years, until her breakdown in 1940. Many famous writers are not appreciated until after their death, but Montgomery was well aware of the affect her work had on young women and girls. She did have some bright spots in her life, to be sure. How many women achieve such fame? Her fame is even greater now, of course, as her heroines have endured and surpassed 100 years.

Lucy was a Presbyterian so she may or may not have been an evangelical Christian. Perhaps there wasn't a saving relationship that could have brought her hope no matter her circumstances. We can never know without reading her personal journals, and even then, still perhaps not. Depression can come from a brain glitch, and if hers did, a suicide can result from it regardless of faith...especially in an isolated person. A very sad fact.

If you ever feel depression, either because you inherited it, or because of hormones, don't isolate yourself. That makes it too easy to wrap yourself around your own thoughts, which are toxic to you. If you can't talk about it, write about it and send your writings to someone. Don't compare your life to anyone else's. Stop that thought process immediately. It's sin and it's toxic. Keep a running gratitude list, and watch your sleep habits. Sleep neither too little nor too much. Read the Psalms, read inspirational biographies, read good stories. Trying to live a routine life will help you fight the depression.

http://www.theguardian.com/books/2008/sep/23/booksforchildrenandteenagers
The granddaughter of Anne of Green Gables' author Lucy Maud Montgomery has revealed that her grandmother killed herself with a drugs overdose at the age of 67. LM Montgomery, who died in 1942, is one of Canada's best-loved authors, and wrote 19 other novels as well as the hugely popular children's classic.

Kate Macdonald Butler, daughter of Montgomery's youngest son Stuart Macdonald, made the long-kept family secret public in an article for Canada's Globe and Mail. "I have come to feel very strongly that the stigma surrounding mental illness will be forever upon us as a society until we sweep away the misconception that depression happens to other people, not us – and most certainly not to our heroes and icons," she wrote.

Macdonald Butler was also prompted to break the family's silence by the heightened focus on Montgomery this year, which marks the 100th anniversary of the publication of Anne of Green Gables.

"Despite her great success, it is known that she suffered from depression, that she was isolated, sad and filled with worry and dread for much of her life," Macdonald Butler wrote. She said that Montgomery had to cope both with "her husband's mental illness and the restrictions of her life as a clergyman's wife and mother in an era when women's roles were highly defined".

The family, which was consulted before Macdonald Butler wrote her article, has never spoken publicly about the extent of Montgomery's illness before. Hiterto, it was generally understood that she had died from heart failure. "What has never been revealed is that LM Montgomery took her own life at the age of 67 through a drug overdose. I wasn't told the details of what happened, and I never saw the note she left, but I do know that it asked for forgiveness," Macdonald Butler wrote.

Montgomery's most famous literary creation was the redheaded orphan Anne Shirley, who is sent by mistake to Matthew and Marilla Cuthbert on Prince Edward Island, where she declares: "My life is a perfect graveyard of buried hopes." Macdonald Butler said the lament had always been especially poignant to her, as she imagined her grandmother must have felt the same sadness at times in her life.

"The fictional Anne went on to happiness and a life full of love and fulfilment. My grandmother's reality was not so positive, although she continues to inspire generations of readers with her books, which reveal her understanding of nature – both in matters of the heart and the world," she wrote. "I hope that by writing about my grandmother now there might be less secrecy and more awareness that will ease the unnecessary suffering so many people experience as a result of such depressions."

An article on the front page of the Globe and Mail Lucy suffered unbearable psychological pain reproduces the following scrap of paper found on Montgomery’s bedside the afternoon she died:

This copy is unfinished and never will be. It is in a terrible state because I made it when I had begun to suffer my terrible breakdown of 1940. It must end here. If any publishers wish to publish extracts from it under the terms of my will they must stop here. The tenth volume can never be copied and must not be made public during my lifetime. Parts of it are too terrible and would hurt people. I have lost my mind by spells and I do not dare think what I may do in those spells. May God forgive me and I hope everyone else will forgive me even if they cannot understand. My position is too awful to endure and nobody realizes it. What an end to a life in which I tried always to do my best.
 

Here is one more entry about the end of Lucy's life, which gives some insight about her "suicide" note and why it may have just been directions for her family in regard to her personal journal, specifically journal number ten.

http://www.lmm-anne.net/archives/2008/author/the-end-of-l-m-montgomerys-life.html

 

Simple Woman's Daybook 6/9

Outside my window...

We've had a rainy couple of days. Yesterday I worked the church nursery, during which it rained and thundered so hard they had to send a very frighened Mary to me. I was too busy to do much for her, except to put her in a rocking chair and give her a few hugs and kisses. If you have children who suffer from anxiety, you know there is little you can do for them, other than pray and hold them. They can't be reasoned with or talked out of it; the anxiety comes from a brain glitch.

After twenty minutes, she threw up. Yes, indeedy. She's done that before from the stress of a thunderstorm. As soon as she said her stomach hurt, I knew to have a bucket close by her. Our church meets in an elementary school and she managed to get nothing on her clothes or on any school property--not even the carpet. That's not to say I wasn't pretty busy wiping it out of the recycling container and sink with disinfectant wipes. Luckily we had only one baby, and four toddlers who were on the other side of the room.

I fear one of my nursery partners, who knows me less than some others, wondered if I'd brought my sick daughter to church. Mary keeps her fingers in her ears the whole time she's worried about thunderstorms. If that's not a hint of fear, I don't know what is.

Severe thunderstorms are forecast in the next couple of days. Not fun.

I am thinking...

I am thinking about L.M. Montgomery, who wrote the Anne of Green Gables series, which is quite an extensive series. I finished another one of the novels last night--Rainbow Valley. There are two remaining in the series. A few weeks ago I read Montgomery's biography, and since then I can't help feeling a little melancholy about the books. It's as though Lucy Maud Montgomery writes the story she wishes had been her own.

As I wrote before, she didn't marry for love so much as because in her time it was almost an obligation to marry. She was in her mid-thirties when she married her husband, a minister. He was mentally ill and she spent many years caring for him. I don't know if she knew about his mental stability when she married him, but probably not. His condition probably worsened as he grew older. They had two sons; a third son died in infancy.

It is very hard to watch the giddy happiness of those around you, when you have an excruciatingly hard life yourself. In one of the Anne books there's a young women who must care for a mentally-ill husband while living next door to Anne, who is newly, and very happily married to Gilbert Blithe. The neighbor is a beautiful but bitter woman who feels that life is like a prison sentence. In this storybook case, there's a miraculous twist and the woman is released from her fate, but such was not the case in Lucy Montgomery's real life.

The books are wonderful, high-quality literature, full of wit, wisdom, and realism. I love them, and the heart of the woman who wrote them. But I can't read them without grieving for Lucy. I am grateful that she seemed to love the true, grace-ful God and saw fit to write books that were not about bitterness, but about love and courage and wit. Being a minister's wife, she was able to expose a lot of religious hypocrisy and subtly preach grace through her stories. Grace in human relations is a major theme throughout the series--with Anne being the main instrument of grace.

Not only was Lucy's husband a burden to her throughout their 31-year marriage, but her older son was a profound disappointment as well, impregnating and then marrying a women he later left, and then later getting fired from a law firm and ending up living in his parent's basement. He possibly inherited some mental instability, and Lucy either inherited some depression, or the sadness of her circumstances caused her to develop profound depression. Her family thinks she took her own life at age 67 via a drug overdose in 1942. A so-called suicide note was left at her bedside, but an extensive biography written by Dr. Mary Rubio of Lucy's life suggests a different interpretation--that the note was yet another scribble on a piece of paper that would later become a part of Lucy's personal journal.

Lucy Montgomery's doctor, Richard Lane, wrote in the death certificate: “coronary thrombosis” as a result of “arteriosclerosis and a very high degree of neurasthenia” (the last is a general, quasi-psychoanalytic term to describe a neurotic disorder characterized by chronic weakness and fatigue).

Lucy was addicted to prescription medications, but it isn't known if she was aware of this herself, or if she just took what her doctored ordered for depression.

I was making Beth's bed this morning and thinking of the long years we've used the same bed pillows. How sad that only a small amount of money separates us from new bed pillows, which an allergy family really needs! So many people spend far more than that on a restaurant meal regularly, and then there's us, wondering when we can get bed pillows.

As soon as my brain thought this, it went to Lucy Maud Montgomery's life and her depression. If she thought of all the people in her husband's church whose children turned out better than hers, or all the husbands who were better off mentally than hers was, she probably did drive herself into a depression. If she thought of all the women who had happier lives than hers, she probably drove herself crazy--drove herself to prescription medicines.

Whatever our circumstances, the worst poison is to play the comparison game. It causes us to lose our perspective, our gratitude, our love and goodwill toward others. It causes us to lose our awe over our salvation and God's faithfulness.

Lucy had no support system. No mother of her own she could remember. No father who invested in her life. She was largely on her own, and she needed the grace and love of fellow Christians to be her family. Instead, as a minister's wife, she was most likely held to an impossibly high standard that she could never live up to--and one her husband and two children could never live up to.

Her writing was her only solace, her one joy, outside of any relationship she may have had with God. I don't know yet of that God relationship, as I can't find any information of that vein. But her writing screams of the need for grace in human relations, so I want to think that she understood something about the grace of God.

Writing is often my saving grace here at home, so I feel a kinship with this woman, but I don't subscribe to self-pity. Self-pity is the beginning of the end, in my opinion. We mustn't go there, and when we feel ourselves edging towards it, like with the pillows this morning, we must turn 180 degrees and walk the other way, counting our blessings with each step. There can be no mistake about it--self-pity is sin.

I am thankful...

~ for new mercies each morning.
~ for the power of prayer and confession.
~ for sweet faces to kiss each morning, noon, and night.
~ for a good story as food for the soul.
~ for sound lessons in 1 Corinthians.
~ that God takes our imperfect efforts and blesses them.
~ that showers bring bright flowers.
~ for the blessing that is motherhood.
~ that the easy way is never the most beautiful way.

I am wearing...

long jean skirt, fushia fitted cotton tee, healed clogs

I am reading...

after a couple night's good sleep, I will start the next of the Anne series, Rilla of Ingleside, in which Anne's youngest child (she has 6) starts out as a 15 year old. The children and I continue in 1 Corinthians in the mornings, and I am reading Colossians.

I am hoping...

and praying that my children will be close friends always. They need each other.

Around the house...

The children did some decluttering, and I did some too, but there's more to pick up after the weekend, and then on to dusting and vacuuming and folding laundry. Good Monday to you all. May God bless you and keep you.

Scripture to share...

Psalm 118:24 This is the day that the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it.   

Hope When You Have OCD

Some of you know that I have a son with OCD--Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. His paternal cousin also has it, as well as a maternal uncle. Many people who have ADHD also have OCD, or some other anxiety-related disorder.

What you may not know is that Obsessive Compulsive Disorder can become so debilitating that sufferers sometimes stop leaving their homes altogether. Some develop offshoot disorders, such as body dysmorphic disorder, or anorexia disorder, and either commit suicide or starve themselves to death. These outcomes are not common, but they are chilling possibilities, and if you parent children with OCD, you'd better know the signs. I have one son with moderate OCD with the potential to become severe, another son with mild OCD, and a daughter just developing OCD.

One very disturbing thing is the cost of good care, and this is true for any mental disorder. Poor or mediocre care can make OCD worse. Exposure Response Prevention--the best OCD therapy there is--is a treatment plan in which an OCD sufferer is exposed to what they most fear, such as germs. Paul fears germs but this is only mildly the case for Peter. Each sufferer is different.

During exposure time they mustn't perform their ritual, such as handwashing. Not performing the handwashing during exposure helps the brain stop sending constant messages to wash the hands over and over. The messages are sent as a way to lower the anxiety about potentially getting sick and dying. The more the anxiety is responded to, the stronger the anxiety becomes. The more the hands are washed, the more the hands have to be washed to get the same relief from anxiety.

The range of things feared by OCD sufferers is vast. A fear of germs may seem like the most typical to the uneducated public, as it's the OCD fear most characterized in movies, but this disorder goes way beyond excessive use of hand sanitizer. Every time my older son sees a girl in shortish shorts, he fears he will attack her, despite the fact he is non-violent. Fear of attacking someone is a common OCD fear for one reason or another, even though OCD sufferers are non-violent people. One can understand how it is that some never leave their homes, if they've never received proper therapy and OCD is allowed to run its ugly course. It's a progressive disorder.

For Christian sufferers exposure response therapy can be especially difficult. Peter will have to look at ladies in shorts and not perform the ritual (asking me for reassurance that he won't attack the person), in order to see shorts-clad ladies in public and not have an anxiety-ridden response.

There's a neighborhood girl, Lexie (some may remember her?), who comes in short shorts and she is a living exposure-response tool we will have to reluctantly use. Peter panics the minute she walks down the street presently. To say her visits are stressful is putting it mildly. She has just started coming back because Peter got into trouble and couldn't have visitors of his own--although she plays with all four of my kids--for a few months.

As a mother, her outfits have always bothered me (tight, short, etc.), but we try to disciple her and talking about proper dress is no way to disciple someone who may not even be saved. Even the Holy Spirit probably doesn't approach dress until many other things are taken care of in the heart first. Many a young Christian has been hurt by someone who talks about dress too soon, and there are no solid "rules" about dress anyway, so it's a very delicate topic.

Peter has read verses in Scripture that conflict with looking at the flesh, and he is already embattled about it, and of course I am heartbroken about it all. 

OCD never goes away; there is no cure. The anxiety will always be there, but a person can be taught to ignore the voice--to never perform a ritual in response to it. As soon as life becomes unduly stressful and a sufferer becomes weak again and succumbs to the rituals, the whole cycle starts again. So the key is to pray, exercise, learn to manage stress, live a routine life as much as possible, and take meds on time.

The more I read about OCD, the more I realize that only the rich have the greatest hope of beating this disorder. But, it does take courage, as well as a skilled, experienced clinician. Without the resources for the best care, Peter, my son, must rely on God to give him the courage and wisdom to fight this. We have educated ourselves and he knows what to do. He just has to force himself--with God's help--to take the very frightening steps. Part of that is letting go of the bitterness--that he must suffer from such a disorder to begin with. He has to accept with an open hand what God gives, so he can trust God completely, even in this ugly disorder, and draw strength from Him.

God is bigger than OCD. He is bigger than the healthcare system. My son has this so that God's glory will shine through his weakness. I pray that my son will grow to see this as a privilege, and that his spirit will rest in that. A tall order for a 12 year old, but not impossible.

To the rest of us not performing these rituals doesn't seem so terrifying, but to those with OCD--especially to the children who have it--it's extremely terrifying.

Here is the testimony of a 33-year-old man who has mostly beaten the disorder, after successfully completing Exposure Response Prevention Therapy. He saves the meat of his recovery talk for this year's International OCD Foundation Conference, but you catch a glimpse of the road he's walked.

Ethan S. Smith Throughout my 20’s, even though I found success as an actor, I lived a double life. I experienced constant fear and anxiety. I couldn’t do most things normal twentysomethings did. I couldn’t even leave the city without my mother or father being with me. I lived inside a box that grew smaller with every passing hour, unable to pursue my dreams. I was a prisoner in my own brain.

By the time I was 32, despite seeing numerous therapists over decades that thought they knew how to treat OCD, yet had never even heard of ERP, I found myself bedridden in my parent’s guest room. I was too scared to eat, too scared to drink, lost 100lbs, and was barely existing. I would lie on top of my hands 24/7 because I was afraid I was going to accidentally hurt myself. Finally, after getting three CT scans in three days at three different hospitals to be certain I didn’t have a brain injury from thinking I hit my head, my parents caught on that I was ritualizing and then physically prevented me from doing so. Without the ability to ritualize, and no proper therapy or coping skills under my belt, I convinced myself I was going to die and I became completely out of control. What I was experiencing was definitely a far cry from the OCD that the media likes to portray as “quirky” or “adorable.: This was an OCD that so many parents, family, and friends know too well within the confines of their homes.

Now here’s the really cool part. That “big dream” I was talking about earlier finally became a reality only three years ago when I was 33 years old. Today, I’m a 36-year-old writer, director, producer, and actor living thousands of miles away from my parents in Los Angeles, California. So what happened during that year and a half that changed my life forever? That’s what I can’t wait to share with you at the OCD Conference — and not just what happened but how it happened, because therein lies the key.

I’m not going to tell you that I don’t ever struggle now, because that’s not the truth. OCD is a disorder I will carry with me until the end. Some days, weeks, months I forget I have it, and other times it screams at me so loud I jump. The difference in my life now is that in either case, my actions are the same — I choose living a life where OCD has no say, no weight, pull, push, or power. I acknowledge its existence, but that’s where our relationship ends.

Words cannot describe how moved and elated I am to share my story with all of you at the Annual OCD Conference next month. To show you actual video footage of me when OCD was at it’s worst, and share with you the tools that helped me turn my life around. Most importantly, I look forward to meeting all of you, because we all have our stories of pain and suffering — some of us are still suffering, and some of us are on the other side of the war. In the end, we all share a common goal: to make life not about OCD but about living, and even enjoying it in the process.

Weekly Homeschool Wrap-Up 6/6

Good Friday to you. I'm not entirely sure anyone will read this due to the beautiful weather and end-of-year busyness, but I feel like writing about school and booky stuff anyway. Many of you are out of school this week, but we are in no such celebratory mood. Routine will move along as usual up through August, then a couple weeks off before we start the new year.

First Grade News:

All my four children are unique learners and one thing about Mary, age 7, is that her lessons have to be short, short, short. Her attention span isn't where I'd like it to be. I've learned so much this year in just accepting that in love. I haven't ridiculed her or chatised her, although inside I've often been irritated at the slow pace and the necessary breaks.

This year, then, I've climbed a personal mountain of sorts, in my ability as a teacher.

It helped that Mary is not mouthy or disrespectful. When she is done mentally she fidgets and takes longer to finish the simplest tasks. She asks how much longer she has to sit, or asks when she can go outside, but she doesn't argue.

She is reading fairly well now, but she still needs me nearby to help her keep abreast of all the complicated phonics combinations that are part of first-grade reading material. So many vowel digraphs, r-controlled words, and other complicated nonsense stuff. I have to admit, even though I taught it for nine years before having children, that first grade is not altogether a fun year. I used to think it was magical--the best grade ever--but now that I've taught every grade up through sixth, I think first grade is a pain. Now isn't that strange? I guess I like all the wonderful, rich content that comes later.

As a young learner I think she reminds me somewhat of Peter, in that the skills come slow--the parts themselves, but it's clear that the big picture isn't a problem. She is bright enough and can discuss ideas and draw conclusions and remember much about science and social studies, but seeing patterns in the numbers to 100, and recognizing patterns when she's reading, just don't come naturally.

Peter, now 12, didn't read well enough for me to walk away for good (meaning, no help at all), until he was eight years old. His issue wasn't remembering vowel digraph combinations so much as remembering sight words. By nine and a half he was an amazing reader, so I'm not at all worried about his little sister.

In science Mary is learning about plants and flowers and eggs and chicks. It is a group effort, with Daddy and Peter helping me teach science at times (Sonlight Science). While the Sonlight program is labeled as a K program, the written work would be very hard for a kindergarten child. It is perfect for Mary, and she loves the subject matter and all the books involved. Sonlight designs everything to appeal and work with a range of ages.

Mary continues in Explode the Code, and in Susan Wise Bauer's Writing With Ease Level 1. I thought about starting her in Sequential Spelling Level 1, but it's still a bit hard so we'll wait until the fall.

I haven't done a homeschooling post in several weeks but I've been saving up some favorite trade books to share. I'll share five this week and more next week. They're all wonderful, but in the interest of time, I'll just feature them and not comment, since dinner prep calls.

I'll write next week about what the boys are doing for school.

None of these book links are affiliate links; this is a personal blog only.

Camille and the Sunflowers A story about Vincent van Gogh by Laurence Anholt

School Library Journal Synopsis: Grade 2-4-In this story that has roots in historical fact, Camille and his postman father meet a stranger who comes to their town with no money and no friends. They give him furniture and friendship, and he paints a picture of each member of their family. The boy visits the man and takes him sunflowers, but the townspeople drive Vincent away because he's too odd and he doesn't have what they consider a real job. This sad tale can stand alone, and, while it omits important details, its tone matches that of other accounts of Van Gogh's short life. Unfortunately, the CIP information, the names and locations of the Roulin family paintings, and a biographical note about Van Gogh are printed inside the book covers under the jacket flaps. The sketchy pen-and-watercolor illustrations are punctuated with seven fine art reproductions, including a little known "Portrait of Camille Roulin" and the famous "Vase with 14 Sunflowers." The Roulins and the yellow house in which the artist stayed when he was in Arles, France, are seen in context in Bruce Bernard's Van Gogh (Dorling Kindersley, 1993). The two books complement one another and provide a greater understanding of this gifted, troubled man.

The Magical Garden of Claude Monet by Laurence Anholt

School Library Journal Synopsis: Grade 1-4-An engaging introduction to Monet's later work, featuring his gardens at Giverny. Based on a visit to the artist by a girl who turns out to be the daughter of Impressionist Berthe Morisot and a niece of Edouard Manet, The Magical Garden effortlessly combines artistic fancy with biographical fact. The simple story of a city child's day in the country is brought to life through clear text and vibrant gouache illustrations that blend seamlessly to provide an ideal introduction to Monet's temperament, work habits, and aesthetic. Anholt pulls off a deft illustrative trick, using his own fluid style to capture the flavor of many of Monet's most frequently reproduced works. Several illustrations are successful combinations of photo reproductions of Monet's paintings overlaid with Anholt's drawings of the artist and Julie. Particularly impressive is the foldout spread that depicts Monet, Julie, and her dog gliding across the lake in a small boat. The figures are incorporated into Monet's masterpiece Waterlilies: Morning. Perfect for children not old enough to enjoy the detail and comparatively intricate plot of Christina Bjork's Linnea in Monet's Garden (R & S, 1987), this volume also includes a page of biographical information about Monet.

Hot Dog! Eleanor Roosevelt Throws a Picnic by Leslie Kimmelman (NEW IN 2014)

Publisher Synopsis: In June of 1939, the United States played host to two very special guests. British monarchs King George VI and Queen Elizabeth were coming to America. As it was the first visit ever by reigning British royalty, it was a chance for America to build a stronger relationship with the British, especially in those challenging times. On the domestic side, many people didn't have jobs, housing, or food. Internationally, Adolf Hitler, Germany's leader, was threatening the countries around him and war loomed on the horizon. But First Lady Eleanor Roosevelt saw the visit as an opportunity for America to set aside its cares for a while and extend a warm welcome and hand of friendship to the royal guests. As part of the festivities, Eleanor hosts an all-American picnic that includes hot dogs, a menu item that shocks some people.


Thomas Jefferson A Day at Monticello by Elizabeth V. Chew (NEW IN 2014)

Publisher Synopsis: In this fascinating story, readers spend a day with Thomas Jefferson as he and his grandson visit the vast plantation of Monticello. Readers learn about Jefferson; the gadgets and household items that he reinterpreted and the plow he invented; the famous house; the surrounding farms with their gardens, fields, factories, and mills; the workshops of the enslaved people on Mulberry Row; and much, much more.
The book is illustrated with archival as well as newly commissioned illustrations and includes a timeline, bibliography, and index.

Praise for Thomas Jefferson A Day at Monticello
"The illustrations include excellent photos of sites, artifacts, and documents as well as paintings that extend the text. The lightly fictionalized, engaging narrative, which includes many conversations, is bolstered by sidebars offering additional information..."
--Booklist
"After finishing this beautifully illustrated book, also stocked with abundant photographs of artifacts housed at Monticello, readers will be left more curious than ever about the life and accomplishments of Thomas Jefferson."
--School Library Journal

Plant a Pocket of Prairie by Phyllis Root (NEW IN 2014)

Publisher Synopsis: Author Phyllis Root and illustrator Betsy Bowen last explored the vast, boggy peatlands of northern Minnesota in their book Big Belching Bog. Now, in Plant a Pocket of Prairie, Root and Bowen take young readers on a trip to another of Minnesota’s important ecosystems: the prairie.
Once covering almost 40 percent of the United States, native prairie is today one of the most endangered ecosystems in the world. Plant a Pocket of Prairie teaches children how changes in one part of the system affect every other part: when prairie plants are destroyed, the animals who eat those plants and live on or around them are harmed as well. Root shows what happens when we work to restore the prairies, encouraging readers to “plant a pocket of prairie” in their own backyards.

By growing native prairie plants, children can help re-create food and habitat for the many birds, butterflies, and other animals that depend on them. “Plant cup plants,” Root suggests. “A thirsty chickadee might come to drink from a tiny leaf pool. Plant goldenrod. A Great Plains toad might flick its tongue at goldenrod soldier beetles.” An easy explanation of the history of the prairie, its endangered status, and how to go about growing prairie plants follows, as well as brief descriptions of all the plants and animals mentioned in the story.

With Betsy Bowen’s beautiful, airy illustrations capturing the feel of an open prairie and all its inhabitants, readers of all ages will be inspired to start planting seeds and watching for the many fascinating animals their plants attract. What a marvelous transformation could take place if we all planted a pocket of prairie.

 Have a wonderful week!