Stillness is a thing which it seems harder and harder to find. The constant barrage of information that comes to us now is seemingly more confusing than ever. Years ago, I remember seeing pictures of Times Square, with its multiple electronic screens flashing messages to passersby, and I thought it would be a rather disorienting place to be.

We can’t socialize well (because we never go out of the house); we’re not good at sports; it’s not healthy to spend so much time around your Mom; we’re not qualified to teach geography (because we never go out of the house); we’re not qualified to teach anything; snow days are healthy for kids and homeschoolers don’t get snow days, and so forth.

A few months ago, I wrote an article dealing with blaming yourself as a Catholic parent whose children have veered off course. In it, I told the story of a man who spent an afternoon in a famous museum. The man walked around and observed the paintings of Raphael and the sculptures of Michelangelo.

In my experience, no one makes comparisons more than homeschoolers. We say things like: “Mrs. Jones is better than I am at teaching math,” or “Why can’t we get our kids to do their violin practice as well as Mrs. Smith’s children?” or “That family doesn’t let their kids watch television—they’re better than we are.”

Someone mentioned to my wife lately that she doesn’t usually read my fatherhood/homeschooling columns because I use too many sports analogies. For instance, over the years, I have written that baseball is like “raspberry sorbet for the mind;” I have said that life is about “how many shots you take, rather than how many baskets you make;” and I recently wrote that being a good father was like being a “hockey goalie,” and so forth.

As I took a little trip down the memory lane of my mind, I started to explain to my little children that, although I was 42 years old, I had never quite “graduated” from the kids’ table. At first this bothered me, but I had come to respect the camaraderie, the conviviality...

The Mystical Body of Christ, the Church, is composed of those of us still on Earth, those in Purgatory, and those in Heaven. We on Earth are encouraged by the Church to pray for those in Purgatory, and to ask those in Heaven to pray for us. Those we prayed for when they were in Purgatory will certainly pray for us when they reach Heaven.

The children of the Hollywood producer will never need to work a day in their lives. They can have anything they want; or more specifically, they can have anything their super wealthy dad is willing to buy for them. Ordinary families tell their children that they cannot have everything simply due to lack of money. For the super wealthy, that's just not true.

As we parents sit down to help our children with their homeschooling, I think we would have to admit that some of the biggest distractions are often the ones inside ourselves—the ones that keep popping into our minds as we attempt to teach.

Some think that a chaotic home means you can't homeschool. John Clark disagrees, and encourages you to focus on establishing something more important first.

Catholic parents seeks to shelter their children in their youth, so that they may grow in wisdom and holiness without constant battering from the world. But once they are grown and educated, these children no longer need shelter. They are able to take what they have learned and engage the world without fear.

Clichés tend to become clichés for their accuracy. “Life goes too fast” is one. A few weeks ago, a longtime family friend of ours visited us with her nine-month-old daughter.

When a person complains, his creative abilities break free. But it’s also proof to me that we fallen humans don’t commend people well; we don’t thank them enough; and we pat each other on the back far too little.

There has been a lot of worry lately among homeschooling parents regarding the “common core” curriculum. Judging by the amount of views by readers of this journal, it is the biggest issue of the day. But the problem is not so much in merely having a common core—it is in what that common core consists. Some cores are good and some are rotten.

The month of October is dedicated to the Blessed Mother of God, especially under her title Our Lady of the Rosary. In the Rosary, we pray an Our Father and ten Hail Marys for each of five decades on the Rosary. Each decade represents a Mystery of the Rosary; that is, an event in the life of Jesus and Mary.

Over 800 years ago, thousands of Christians, men, women, and children, were being captured by the Moslems and sold into slavery. St. John of Matha of France was concerned about the sufferings of these captives.

After you finish the last page, there are books that you forget about right away. But then there are those rare ones that remain with you forever. Cynthia Montanaro’s Diary of a Country Mother is one of those. This book is a biography of her mentally-challenged son, Timothy, whose life was cut short in an accident as a teenager. Montanaro, a homeschooling veteran, says that she wrote it as a celebration of Tim’s life, but most of all as a “thanksgiving journal to God.”

First, stop insisting that you “went wrong” with your kids. I don’t know exactly how Jesus felt when He was betrayed by Judas. But I do know this: I know that Jesus did not wonder where He went wrong with Judas. Jesus didn’t “go wrong.”

Since I am a professional historian, I am dismayed when I hear anyone say, “I hate history.” Their lament almost always means that the person is as yet unprepared to face history's challenges, the first and foremost of which is the ability to retain a great deal of data. To succeed in that undertaking, we must understand that retentiveness is a by-product of intellectual exercise.

I was asked to write an essay about the book that had most changed my life. This book was my answer. Relating the account of Denton’s ordeal as a prisoner of war in Vietnam for nearly eight years, it is clear that his struggle to practice his faith and keep his sanity during this time were beyond heroic.