Not a huge and deep thing I need to sort out, but I have to express some discomfort.  Yesterday was Holocaust Remembrance Day.  One family I saw mentioned it. But today was Earth Day and everywhere I go online and everywhere I look people are talking about Earth Day.

Now, I’m into conservation and moving towards self sustainability and recycling, etc.  My dd wanted to turn the lights all off for 1 minute so *shrug* we did.  I’m not downing on Earth Day.

My concern is that we live in a world that wants to forget the Holocaust.  We have a day implemented for remembering it and people forget to remember.  That is sad to me. DH is friends with the teacher at the High School where he works who had the responsibility to choose next year’s history books.  He chose the only one with an actual section on the Holocaust (out of 4 options).  Based on the way that history is handled at the school my guess is they will spend a day on it during 4 years of high school–and only because this book has a section on it. Without that they may not have spent any time at all on it.

Mostly it is sad to me because of one of my fundamental beliefs–those who do not study and learn from the past are destined to repeat it.  If we forget the Holocaust we will not be learning from it and we will be destined to repeat it.

This is kind of hard to express because 4 is still a very challenging age. They have ideas that they are convinced are the best and they are determined to convince you of their version of things.  Sometimes they help consistently and sometimes they just want nothing to do with helping.

Having twins who are going through 4 is interesting–because they are such unique persons and personalities and yet they are both so very 4. Dugan is especially demanding–He gets ideas and he is sure they will work and he gets frustrated if we aren’t even willing to try them. “Just try it!” It’s hard not to smile, and sometimes laugh, when he is so sure of himself.  I want to keep that quality–and shape it. But God forbid I ever try to drive it out.  I can see him as a CEO, as a world leader, as someone who is so very careful about who his inner circle is and yet so confident that once he has chosen them they will accomplish whatever goal he has set for them.  And as a contrast to this confidence is his fun nature that has him doing puppet shows, and funny voices, and being the consummate entertainer.  Yet he is my confident introvert.

Ronan, on the other hand, is my shy extrovert.  He is sure of himself in different ways. He is artistically inclined, feels the music,  was the first to crawl away from me without looking back more than once.  He sets his mind to something and slowly, methodically, does it. He is friendly, figures out the situation and finesses it, navigates life with a careless ease that is unique in one so young.  When his brother is demanding something he will eventually decide that his brother’s peace is more important than the thing he has–but he does not fold when it’s important to him and his brother can melt down into a conniption while he holds to his conviction without a second thought from him.

Both are excited to learn.  Ronan comes to me and asks how to spell things, loves Super Why, and wants me to read book after book to him.  Dugan demands I do math with him lol.  They are so smart, and love to figure things out.  I can see when they are frustrated that their age and size is preventing them from doing what they know they could do if they would just be allowed.

A scenario that illustrates this so well . . . as we’re driving to park day Dugan decides he is starving right now he says, “I want food.”  Me: “I will get you something as soon as we get to park day.” “I hungry now.” (insert a few exchanges) “Just get it for me now.”  “I hear you.”  Dugan . . . Me “I hear you.” back and forth a few more times.  This is the equivalent of “asked and answered.” I fully accept that my answer is not accomadating nor does it speak to some hidden logic–he’s four. But my answer isn’t changing–I am not swayed by persistance.

Ronan starts cracking up.  I asked him what’s funny and he says, “Dugan said, ‘I hungry,’ and you said, ‘I hear you,’ and Dugan said, ‘I hungry now,’ and you said, ‘I hear you.’ And he reenacted the last half of our conversation exactly.  I asked, “Do you think that’s funny?”  YEAH *cracks up*

NEXT DAY:  Dugan decides he needs something on the way to services.  He makes a few commands and demands and Ronan pipes up from the back seat, “I hear you, Dugan.”  Dugan, “I want it now.” Ronan, “I hear you.”   I asked, “Ronan, did you decide that’s a good answer when Dugan gets stuck on something?” “Yes.”

Dugan gets frustrated

Ronan gets sad

Dugan gets animated

Ronan laughs hysterically

3.5 year old’s are stuck on everything, always, and without the interactive communication abilities that 4 year old’s are developing.  I feel left out of the 3.5 yo process as they are stuck in fast forward and speeding ahead despite the best efforts to slow them down. 4 finds their center. They still have their challenges, but they are interactive and fun. Their sense of humor evolves. They are contributing members of the family now.  I feel that emerging from the age of 3.5 we are now able, at 4, to reemerge as a family into social interactions and with a greater maturity and comfort for one another that was forged in the fire of 3.5.

If 3.5 was the trial; 4 is the reward for the effort.

I really love the age of 4–when I remember to laugh.  The power really is mine to escalate or diffuse situations.  That’s a huge responsibility.

I was going to write this yesterday but I was reflecting–and it was a day of rest so I didn’t want to “work” (though I did realize something about myself for another blog entry  . . . ) but I reflected all day and that does make it easier to post this today.

There is so much assumption that religious things are supposed to be about suffering–especially at this season.  Those who celebrate Lent are fasting from whatever they feel called to fast from for an extended time.  The Feast of Unleavened Bread is about going without chametz/leaven/yeast–symbolic of sin in our lives and intended to remind us to live unleavened lives.  And there is most certainly value in the self discipline involved in going without–especially in our culture that is about more more more.

But as I was blessed to enjoy Passover with my best friend’s family again this year (2 years ago we all went to our congregation’s seder because her floor was being retiled; last year I had to lead a seder for our congregation; this year we did our teaching seder early and encouraged everyone to celebrate in their homes) I did not feel like I was “suffering” at all.

We take Passover very very seriously.  Yeshua told us to “do this in rememberance of me” so each year when we participate in our Messianic seder, in rememberance of Him, we reflect on so much related to our faith and our walk and the sacrifice He made for us.

We celebrate with our families (which together are quite a substantial number of people already ), another dear dear friend’s family, and different close friends from homeschool group, my friend’s church, etc.  I think this year we had 22 people in attendance   Most of us drink occasionally the rest of the year (I’ll enjoy a nice glass of wine every so often, especially with Shabbat dinner).  And on this night we are required to drink 4 glasses of wine.  This year I did two glasses of wine and two glasses of grape juice because it was too much for me.

But we had good wine, and a combination of good food and food we’ve come to appreciate over the 11 years we’ve been celebrating .   We had wonderful fellowship with friends and family and really neat people.  We reclined, instead of knowing we were going to have to take off on a long journey as soon as the meal was over.  We remembered being in slavery in the context of walking in freedom! We danced until after midnight in celebration of what this night means.  My friend sitting next to me commented that this was the most fun she’s ever had at a “religious event.”  I informed her we’re not your typical religious people

It was a beautiful and enriching night.  This year our three older children (all the older children there) were ready to participate in the seder. They took turns reading. They searched for the Afikomen (even though we had an Afikomen War–one child opened the container in which it was hidden but was looking at my dd and telling her not to look; she saw it anyway but couldn’t get through him before ds1 reached in and grabbed it; all 3 laid claim to the ransom so we held a high counsel and determined they had found it as a team and they split the 40 pieces of silver).

We laughed. We celebrated.  Yes–the meal was eaten without leavened bread.  Maybe it’s the celiac’s but I’ve got a strange relationship with bread anyway   But this was not a meal of suffering. It was a meal of rejoicing, relaxing, fellowshipping and fun. Holy and simple all at the same time.