Pearls Of... Something

Nesting... or something

2010-11-08T12:05:00.003-05:00

I'm a craptastic housekeeper, so nesting tends to be a pretty big deal around here, when it finally happens. With about 6 weeks to go, it seems to be kicking in pretty heavy.

The other day, I finally got the girls working on their bedroom. It took a few hours, a broom acting as a shovel, and two large garbage bags, but now you can see their floor. The whole room still needs a good hosing down, but it'll do for now.

This weekend, I actually sat down and sorted H, M, and C's clothes, plus the hand-me-downs for Number Five. A bag for charity, a bin for summer, a pile for Baby, a few items for consignment, and now I actually feel as though I may be able to keep up with laundry and reduce the number of times I say "Go change! You can't possibly think I'd let you wear the sundress you got 3 years ago to play in the snow!"

Today's task was supposed to be cleaning out the loft. The loft is our dumping ground, for the most part. The only other room upstairs is the master suite and, since I generally don't invite many people into my bedroom, I rarely feel compelled to do anything about the mess in the loft. Which means it gets REAL bad. Bad to the point that, while sifting through bills from 2006, VHS tapes from 1998, and the approximately 3 dozen egg cartons I've saved in the past year for "something useful", I began to feel like the whole process was worthy of a camera crew.

About 1/4 of the way through the loft, I was ready for a nap. Instead, I had the nerve to use the bathroom. 3 seconds after shutting the door, the pounding started, of course! "C pooped on the stairs!"
I loathe potty training.

I also loathe carpeted stairs.

It had been more than a few days (I won't admit how many more than a few) since I'd vacuumed the staircase and, in addition to my four 2-legged beasts, we have four 4-legged beasts running up and down the stairs all day. Because my Little Green Machine does not handle pet hair very well, a pooped on step is no small task.
So, I made sure J was busy with his school work, sent H to get started on her math, told M to get in the shower, and set C up with a video game before pulling out the vacuum.

As soon as I turned the vacuum on for the first step, someone screamed. Turned the vacuum off, called out "What happened?" Got no response. Turned vacuum back on.

Second step. M: "H is playing with tacks in her math book!"
Confiscate tacks, tell M to get in the shower.

Fourth step. M: "I need clothes to change into!"
Grab some clothes, tell M to get in the dang shower.

Fifth step. H: "C is on my bed!"
Fetch C from the top bunk, tell H to get back to work, tell M to get in the damn shower already!

Seventh step. M: "C peed on the bathroom floor!"
Not-so-nicely tell C that wasn't cool, mop up bathroom floor, send J back to his room to mind his business and finish his work, and tell M to get in the goddamn freaking shower RIGHT NOW!

At the very top, I dropped my brush attachment and said "Eff it."
I tossed the LGM cord over the rail to J, and discovered he had no idea what to do with a 3-pronged plug. Aspies are supposed to be all engineer-like but, apparently, mine got gypped in that department.

So I worked my way back down the stairs, pretty much the same way I had worked up them, only this time I was hollering for M to get OUT of the damn shower and stop using up all of the hot water.

And now that my legs feel like they're going to detach from their sockets, I'm ready for bed.

Ah, nesting. I remember when it was all about picking out the perfect nursery decor!

Catching up

2010-10-17T08:26:00.002-04:00

Blogging has been so far from my mind these past few months. I guess you can say I've been busy with the 4 kids and preparing for Number Five but, the truth is, it's mostly my brain that's been in overdrive.

Just about every week, I make a new list of things that need to be done before Number Five gets here. And, nearly every week, the list gets longer, instead of shorter. And the house gets messier. And the kids get crazier. And my body gets bigger. And the budget gets tighter. You get the picture.

I'm a few days short of 31 weeks pregnant, and my goal has always been to finish preparing by 37 weeks. That's SO not happening! While I'm very glad to know deep down that all I REALLY need is a car seat, a few outfits, some cloth diapers, and my boobs (and I have all but the car seat right now), my brain won't shut off when it comes to all of the secondary gear.

But it gets crazier than that. For one thing, my due date is 3 days before Christmas. When I consider my history of going into spontaneous labor at 1 day past my EDD, all the way up to being induced at 13 days past my EDD, I get panicky about having my water break while trying to fill stockings.

On top of that, it was recently announced that my midwives will stop catching babies in the only hospital I feel comfortable in TWO DAYS before my due date. As much as I loathe the thought of another induction, I feel myself starting to give in to the idea, which is making me even more stressed, when I thought it would do the opposite.

But there are positive things going on, too!

After what felt like ages of alternating between avoiding naming conversations and fighting about them, we're pretty sure Number Five has a name! Having had plenty of experience with judgments that make naming an even more difficult process, I won't be revealing this one until the ink dries on the birth certificate. All I'll say is that I finally gave in to breaking my two-syllable rule. I did stick to my guns on keeping everyone's first initial unique, though!

And the best current news of all is that the husband and I will be celebrating our 10th anniversary tomorrow. 10 wonderful, crazy, trying, exciting, eventful, stressful, hysterical, busy years of laughter and tears with my very best friend. I have no idea how we've managed it, but I can't wait to see how the next decade unfolds!

Back to normal

2010-07-04T15:25:00.003-04:00

It has been so... interesting, trying to get back to normal around here.

For a couple of months, we were turned upside down by injuries and the idea of a new baby. Then we were turned inside out by the prospect of losing a baby. And then the joy of discovering all was well was a bit shadowed by all of the things we needed to catch up on after such a chaotic time!

Finally, our 2010/2011 school year is closed out (J received an excellent evaluation, by the way!), the laundry is almost caught up, the clutter is... being worked on, and we're all able to BREATHE again!

Through all of this craziness, we did manage to celebrate 3 birthdays (4, if you count mine), with another one (2, if you count the husband's) next month. Suddenly, all of the kids seem so OLD! J, with his tween attitude, H and M with their insane growth spurts, and even C, with his exploding vocabulary and stubborn independent streak.

I know that, if I weren't pregnant right now, I'd probably be satisfied with this new stage of parenting, in and of itself. But now I'm starting to get really excited about watching the first four grow up while still getting one more chance to cuddle a newborn!

And then I'm reminded that I will have a kindergartener and a college student at the same time, and I start to get all nervous again!!!!

The call

2010-06-25T06:45:00.003-04:00

My anxiety over these test results really began to soar Wednesday night. As much as I hated the waiting, I figured waiting was better than bad news. Our genetics counselor had told us to expect the results on Friday, but be prepared to possibly wait until Monday. The husband arranged to stay home on Friday so I wouldn't be alone with 4 kids and the news. So I set out to make Thursday as calm and relaxing as possible. There was a good chance it would be the last day to resemble any sort of normal for quite a while.

Thursday morning, I watched my younger 3 fly construction paper kites and build a "pool" out of garbage bags while J caught up with the sports channel. I sipped my coffee while surfing the internet and wishing my baby sister a happy birthday. When I got up for a refill around 9:30, I decided to grab my cell phone from the charger upstairs. And then I saw the Missed Call icon.

At 8:57, the office had tried to contact me. My voice mail was blinking.

I took the phone into the bathroom, afraid I was going to throw up. I wasn't prepared to get this call yet. The husband wouldn't be home until after the kids were in bed. I probably would have been better off waiting to listen, but I just couldn't.

"Hi. This is Kay, from 'ABC Baby Place'. I'm calling with good news...."

And then I just started bawling. "Good news." I hadn't really planned for those words. My 9 days of researching convinced me that my energy would be better spent putting that idea aside. My numbers were just too far off to cling very hard to that hope.

"You indicated on your paperwork that you'd like to know the sex. If you've changed your mind, hang up now!"

After finding out the sex of J, H, M, and C, I had been trying to convince the husband that this tie-breaker should be a surprise. He wasn't really going for it, and, faced with all of this pain, I had checked off the "yes" box. I guess that was my little bit of hope shining through. I might have hung up if my tiny BlackBerry keys hadn't been so blurry.

Our baby has 23 evenly matched sets of XY chromosomes. The boys win!

I called the husband and gave him the news while he was with a client. There was no way I'd be able to wait until he got home! I'm not sure how the client reacted to his choked up sniffles, lol.

We're having a baby boy. Our lives can get back to our version of normal. I can start shopping for a baby who will be coming home.

And I can actually look forward to the knock-down, drag-out fight that we call baby naming. :-)

9 weeks ago, my positive pregnancy test scared the hell out of me. It took me nearly 2 months to make the news public. I was afraid of other people's reactions, but I think I was also afraid to make it "real" to myself. And now I'm just so elated that I want the entire world to know how much I'm looking forward to meeting Number Five.

I'm so damn excited that I have enough left over for Number Six and Number Seven if need be! Well, not really. But close!

It's a beautiful Friday.

The scariest thing yet

2010-06-21T09:37:00.003-04:00

I don't actually believe in jinxes, but I'm getting close.

Just days after making taking this pregnancy public, we got the first trimester screening results back. There was no real reason to suspect any issues. I'm barely 33. I have 4 healthy kids. The ultrasound went well. I went for the screening mostly to see the baby and put my mind at ease.

I knew this screening came with a "high false positive" rate, and I accepted that. Women are encouraged to have additional testing when the results for Downs or Trisomy 18 or 13 are around 1:100 or so. My results for Trisomy 18 or 13 were 1:<5. Trisomy 18 and Trisomy 13 are considered incompatible with life.

We did chose to follow up with CVS testing. The procedure was scary enough in and of itself, but I'd do 100 more if I could trade away this waiting. 3-7 more days to go.

I can't really say much more other than I'm numb. I've chosen to be numb because it makes the time pass a little easier. As hard as the waiting is, I'm afraid it may be even harder later.

I hope this story has a happy ending. And I hope I can find the strength to get my family through this if it doesn't.

It's Facebook official

2010-06-13T06:08:00.003-04:00

I had a family event to attend yesterday, and I knew I was going to look huge. After carrying 4 babies, the stomach muscles are no longer all that interested in holding back a 12 week fetus! And after having lost so much weight about two years ago, I really didn't want people thinking I was *only* getting fat. So I had to spill the beans.

Announcing a 5th baby has been an awkward experience for me. Large-ish families are so controversial, and I already hear all the usual comments with "just" my 4. To top it off, I feel like I'm surrounded by people who have lost babies and who are trying to have babies (or both), which adds a huge dose of guilt. Thankfully, I seem to have pulled off my "I dare you" attitude well, because I've gotten nothing but congratulations that at least appear to be genuine.

I still haven't completely adjusted to this whole idea, myself. I had an ultrasound the other day that confirmed we are having a human baby and not a litter of puppies. That was good. I've thumbed through my fabric stash to plan for more cloth diapers. And I wore a complete maternity outfit yesterday. It's almost becoming real.

Of course, my little demons are busy being little demons, and I'm somewhat afraid that 5 will be able to pull off a successful mutiny. Then again, by the time I have another toddler, I will also have 14, 10, 9, and 5 year olds. SOMEONE will make sure I get an occasional nap, right?

It's just after 6am now. The crew is still asleep while I sit here, on my front porch, overlooking my little yard littered with scooters, bats, balls, kiddie chairs, and Little Tykes pieces. It's kinda cute. And there actually is plenty of room for more.

My legitimate excuse

2010-06-02T14:16:00.003-04:00

I know I said I was going to do better with this blog thing, and I really did mean it! But there was a glitch. Or several.

For one thing, I'm 7 weeks into recovering from a fractured foot and sprained ankle. After surrendering my house to 4 children, a husband with long hours, 2 cats, and 2 dogs, this place became a real pit. Which is saying a lot, since I'm no Suzy Homemaker to begin with.

As I began to recover, I began doing a little more around the house. As I began doing more around the house, my recovery began slowing down. And so on and so forth. And now my house is a REAL real pit and I fear I'll never catch up on laundry, let alone the ever growing gob of toothpaste (and whatever else has stuck inside of it) in the kids' bathroom sink. We won't discuss dishes.

On a positive note, I no longer require crutches. Which is good, because J is using them now. He has been diagnosed with Severs Disease, which I still don't fully understand, but have come to learn is not nearly as scary as it sounds. He's out of commission for the next two weeks, which happen to be the final two weeks of baseball season. :-(

Have I mentioned that I've still been hauling all of the kids to baseball 3-5x/wk on this bum foot? That's been fun. We'll continue to attend the next few games so J can support his team, but I'll be so glad when it's over!

We're also in the home stretch of our homeschool year. We tend to continue school in bits and pieces through the summer but, legally, J's paperwork should be wrapped up next week. His evaluation needs to be done and his portfolio has to be submitted. Also, I have to get H's paperwork in soon, so we can count summer work toward the '10/'11 school year. It'll be her first year on the record!

Summer work is important this year, because I intend to take a LOT of time off in December and January, for the exact reason I've been ignoring my blog. I'm finally ready to make the announcement.

We're having another baby!

So, yeah, all of the above has been combined with health concerns, nausea, and extreme exhaustion.

Fortunately, we've determined that F (for Fetus) is in the right spot. The nausea is subsiding for the most part, and the exhaustion is probably best for my foot, anyway.

And now that I've got that off my chest, I need to start looking for a new excuse for being a lazy blogger.

Insert interesting title here (or not)

2010-04-22T18:01:00.002-04:00

Oh. Em. Gee.
10 days on the injured list and I'm ready to scream! But I'm miserable enough dealing with it. I don't want to write about it, too.

Instead, I'll write about one of my homeschooling weaknesses. My favorite homeschool weakness, in fact.
I love sarcastic answers.
H may be the queen of sarcastic answers for the K-4 set. Unfortunately, I find it too entertaining (and sometimes even impressive) to make a big deal of it.

Name something that is about 12". A foot.
Explain the difference between multiplication and division. Multiplication multiplies and division divides.
Is 2x4 more or less than 3x3? Yes.
Why do you think so-and-so did such-and-such? Because that's what it says on page 5.

Today, she handed me a worksheet with every "answer" marked "Not fare". (Yeah, I know. We'll get on homophones eventually.) I couldn't wait to examine her reasoning.

Instead, I was confronted with another one of my homeschool weaknesses - attention to detail. I had handed her a worksheet from next week's lesson.

I have brats

2010-04-16T10:17:00.002-04:00

Being stuck on my derriere is hell. And that's SO not fair, because I'm always dreaming about doing nothing but sitting on my ass. This is supposed to be my chance to fulfill that dream.

Instead, I get to spend the time staring at all of my housekeeping and parenting inadequacies. As I type, my children are wearing filthy clothes, ignoring my orders to brush their teeth, and I think M is actually lost in her bedroom.

Oh, wait. H is reporting that M got in the car with the husband.

Okay, confirmed.

Don't get me wrong. My kids have been more than willing to fetch me things. The olders have been happy to feed the "baby" and the pets. They've managed to wash a few dishes as needed (or reuse when especially lazy) and have stayed out of serious danger, for the most part.

But anything else? Fair game. Because what's Mom going to do about it, anyway? Her crutches only reach so far.

Boy, are they in for a world of hurt when I'm mobile!

I never learn my lessons

2010-04-14T10:55:00.002-04:00

H likes to play outside in heels. I'm forever telling her not to, and she's forever sneaking them out the door. How could I ever have thought she was going to be my tomboy?

I make her compromise fashion for safety because the majority of our property is covered in rocks. Big rocks, little rocks, stone pathways, slate stepping stones... It's like we live in a quarry.

3 or 4 years ago, almost to the day, I went running down our stone pathway and sprained my ankle.

I may not remember the exact year, but I do remember sitting in H&R Block with crutches. It wasn't 2 years ago, because I didn't have a baby when it happened. It wasn't 5 years ago, because we didn't live here then.
I know it doesn't really matter, but it's bothering me that I can't remember whether this was 3 or 4 years ago.
Which is probably the Vicodin talking.
Because, on Monday, I went running down our stone pathway and broke my foot.

Maybe I should try wearing heels next time.

Today's lesson

2010-03-25T19:16:00.002-04:00

I am so tired.
I'm physically and mentally worn out, just from existing. No legitimate reason, simply fried.

So today's biggest homeschool lesson involved teaching the children how to type "hEllo" and "BOOB" on the calculator. Far be it from me to deny them this important skill.

Tomorrow's lesson: Spitballs

I love Max

2010-03-18T10:00:00.002-04:00

When I first heard about the new series Parenthood, I was excited to see a "normal" show in the works. Then I heard a little more and decided it was going to be boring. THEN my sister reminded me about the premiere, and I had an empty slot on my TiVo. And that's how I fell in love with Max.

I'm still not sure how I feel about the show as a whole, but I have to admit that I'm fascinated by Max's story and the family's journey through his Asperger's diagnosis.

J was diagnosed with Asperger's Syndrome more than 6 1/2 years ago. I can't even begin to wrap my mind around that fact. I can barely remember a time when I didn't know, or at least suspect. And yet, I can't believe it's been so many years.

My kid chooses a Yankee wardrobe over a pirate costume, and he was pulled out of school rather than kicked out, but so much of Max IS my kid.

My family didn't get all kumbaya and what not while going through evaluations, but we all dealt with so many of the same thoughts, emotions and fears, and the show is navigating them beautifully.

The biggest difference between J and Max is baseball. Max didn't want to play. J is obsessed with becoming a Yankee.

A couple of years ago, J joined our local Challengers League - Little League for special needs kids. J asked to quit within weeks, and we let him. I thought it was because he felt it was too hard. I'm not a big fan of quitting, but I've always had to pick my battles with J, and I did (and do) believe that those battles should be reserved for the important life skills he'll need to work extra hard on. Baseball didn't fit that category.

This year, J begged to try out for "real" Little League, and my stomach immediately tied itself in knots. He's 11 years old. His LL peers have been playing since before they could read, and J can't seem to walk across an open floor without tripping.

The husband, the ex and I had many serious conversations about this, and we all worried about J taking on a competitive sport, particularly one he loved so much. If he didn't measure up against the rest of the players, he would be crushed. And a crushed Aspie can transfer that emotion to EVERY SINGLE aspect of their lives. But we decided to risk it and sign him up for tryouts. The kid who can't ride a bike, or even tie his shoes well.

My extraordinary husband volunteered to take J, which was great, because I was going to make him anyway. I was too afraid I might tell J the school had burned down or baseball had been outlawed half way there. Or worse, that I'd get there and throw up on a coach's shoes. I knew J had to go through this experience, but he sure as hell didn't need me making it worse.

So J and the husband took off early to watch the younger kids try out. There was a flurry of text messages between the two of us while I stayed on the phone with the ex, relaying messages and venting my nervousness.

J was looking a little green.
The husband spoke to the LL president about J's "situation".
J was being given a separate tryout to see "what he had".

And then J called me to let me know he'd made the minor league team!

It turns out, the kid is a decent ball player, with real potential as a pitcher (the position he covets).
Which means the husband, the ex and I had seriously underestimated the child.
Which means it was an exhilarating moment mixed with some serious guilt.

I'm left wondering what else I've overlooked in these past 6 1/2 years. Have I held him back from other opportunities and desires? Have I pushed him to accept defeat by default in other areas where he could have excelled? I'll probably never know.

What I do know is that I have one very excited son. He can't stop talking about, writing about, or watching shows about baseball. I'm not ready to buy into the idea that he will be a Yankee one day, but I sure won't count it out. I won't count anything out!

Meanwhile, the writers of Parenthood have put Max in an astronomically expensive special school. The average parents of similar children do not have the access or the finances to do such a thing. I hope they plan to bring things back to reality by highlighting not just the gifts that these kids possess, but the incredible (and not so incredible) surprises they bring. I have enough material to get them through 6 1/2 seasons.

But first, I have to tell my 11yo child that his button down jersey is on backwards.

There are better things to fight about

2010-03-15T10:02:00.004-04:00

If you weren't already aware, my husband and I are atheists. That doesn't necessarily mean we're raising our children to be atheists, despite our parents' (irrational) fears. Instead, we take more of a "free thinkers" method, though I didn't realize it had a name until I read Dale McGowan's Raising Freethinkers.

Since we began homeschooling, we've been studying history chronologically and science from an evolutionary stand point*. Since we're just now getting toward the year 1CE, we've yet to really dig in to Christianity and have only briefly touched on other "modern" religions. The majority of our focus has been on the ancient religions of the middle eastern and eastern world and standard physical science.
*My 11yo has obviously had more time than the girls studying history and science before being homeschooled, but we all know how school textbooks typically deal with these things.

Despite not being raised to be good little (enter any religion here), my children have managed to translate what they know to a broader concept.

J and I were having a conversation in the car, discussing whether it was feasible to be both Jewish and Christian (his father's family is Jewish and mine is Christian). Rather than give him an answer, I gave him a few contradicting points to consider. H and M were quick to take offense.

"Stop fighting. It isn't okay to fight about religion!"

I found it fascinating that 1, they would consider our calm, polite conversation to be 'fighting' and 2, that they - my 'unsocialized and sheltered' little girls - intuitively understood the personal nature of belief and the hurt that can be caused by (perceived or real) challenges to those beliefs.

Obviously I need to work on explaining the differences between discussion, debate, and fights. Our upcoming lessons on the Roman invasion of Britain should prove interesting. And as they continue to prepare for Tooth Fairy visits while questioning the plausibility of Santa Clause, I really have no idea where their world view will end up. But I'm pretty confident in their ability to determine what makes sense to them while respecting the ideas that lead others to different conclusions.

As of right now, J is still determined to mesh Christianity with Judaism. H labels herself a polytheist. M is determined to find fairies and C worships whoever holds the cookies. If they can manage to live together and respect each other (at least on this point, lol), how is it that so many adults have so much trouble doing so?

A whole bunch of nothing

2010-03-09T08:30:00.002-05:00

So I decided to log in this morning and report that I've been a lazy sack, up to nothing for the past 4 months or so. Then I thought about it and realized that "nothing" includes:

1. Chasing a 2yo
2. Chasing a 2yo while educating 3 kids
3. Chasing a 2yo while doing laundry
4. Chasing a 2yo while volunteering in my community
5. Chasing a 2yo while volunteering as a Parent Community Coordinator's assistant for Foundation Beyond Belief
6. Chasing a 2yo while doing dishes
7. Chasing a 2yo while revamping the household budget
8. Chasing a 2yo while planning next years curricula
9. Chasing a 2yo while practicing more home cooking
10. Chasing a 2yo while playing Word Twist on Facebook
11. Chasing a 2yo while (finally) reading The Omnivore's Dilema and Alice's Adventures in Wonderland
12. Chasing a 2yo while adjusting to the husband's new job responsibilities
13. Chasing a 2yo while reorganizing my pantry
14. Chasing a 2yo while (repeatedly) plunging toilets
15. Chasing a 2yo while trying to potty train said 2yo

My baby turns 3 in less than 2 months. I have very mixed feelings about that. On one hand, I'm ready to be done with the terrible twos. On the other hand, feeling I probably don't have the strength to raise any more 2yos, it's difficult to accept that this is the last time I'll ever do so.

Instead, I'm focusing on learning how to raise chickens, goats and sheep. Society doesn't expect me to potty train them, so surely it's a whole lot easier!

We've had a little taste of Spring these past few days, and I'm really hoping that will pull me out of my winter depression (which I don't believe actually exists, and yet I truly believe I do have) enough to play on my blog more often. Don't hold me to it!

Oink

2009-11-28T09:59:00.002-05:00

The pig sick has arrived.

Yup. We have confirmed H1N1 in our house. 3 of the 4 kids and 1 of the 2 adults have been hit. That adult being me.

We're all pretty miserable (the non-sick do have to put up with the sick!) but, fortunately, we're an overall-healthy family. J has already run his course, C and M are on the mend, and I feel like I've already hit my peak. H and the husband haven't been stricken yet. It still may happen, but I have a feeling they're going to skip it. Something tells me the virus knows I can't handle the husband when he's sick, and I guarantee it's terrified of H! She tends to get a bug, beat it up, make it mean, and then send it off to someone else.

If nothing else, we now have proof that homeschoolers are not an isolated people, lol.

14 hours

2009-10-17T22:02:00.002-04:00

No new pictures. My eyes are fuzzy. Kids are going strong. I'm worried I may fall asleep and dream of zombies chasing fish to a Beatles soundtrack. For a good cause, of course!

Almost 6 hours later...

2009-10-17T13:53:00.003-04:00

Have I ever mentioned that my favorite OTC medication is Advil?

Have I ever mentioned how I let my husband talk me into crazy things?

Have I ever mentioned how my kids get when they play video games for more than a few minutes?

I love Advil.

I love my husband.

I love my kids.

And I hate cancer. Don't you?

I thought so.

Hour One

2009-10-17T08:49:00.003-04:00

It's going to be a long day! FB friends- feel free to spam me with FB game challenges!

Extra Life

2009-10-16T20:12:00.003-04:00

At 8am tomorrow, the husband, the maniacs and I will start 24 hours of gaming. Even for our family, that's going to be a tough task. But it's worth it because we're raising money for pediatric cancer treatment and research.

Now that I've finally located my camera's battery charger, I hope to photo blog our marathon!

For the record, this means we will be spending the first 8 hours of our 9th wedding anniversary gaming, and the rest of it sleeping. Much like the first year of our marriage.

You can join our team or sponsor us here!

Following through

2009-09-28T15:55:00.003-04:00

I have a greater sentimental attachment to my children's belongings than they do. This would make sense to me if I were the type of person to update baby books (or even bother to buy baby books after the first few kids) or get annual family photos taken or even print snapshots once in a while. But I'm not. I have the memories and, most times, that's good enough for me.

Yet I still haven't donated or chucked my son's Bob the Builder bedsheets.

The fact that my kids' bedrooms are complete disasters devastates me. Also insane, since I grew up in a disaster of a room (and, well, kind of continue to live in one!). It breaks my heart because the messes lead to breakage. Broken DVDs, crumpled art work, missing pieces... All of those wonderful belongings destined for the trash can.

I finally had it with my 11yo, whom I've been telling to straighten up for several weeks. I'm not even talking dusting and vacuuming, just picking the crap up off the floor and putting it somewhere NOT on the floor! I gave him one last warning. If he didn't care enough about his stuff to put it away safely, he obviously didn't care enough to keep it.

Unfortunately, I CARE.

But I sucked it up.

This weekend, I sat down and gathered 5 garbage bags full of stuff while sobbing. And then I let the garbage men take it this morning.

And you know what? I feel better, and so does he.

Stuff sucks. It's time to tackle the rest of the house!

Even lefties can disagree with the POTUS

2009-09-27T15:54:00.002-04:00

The AP has decided to remind us that Obama thinks schools should have longer hours and longer years.
You can read the article here.

I would just like to share my single thought on the matter.

Trying to solve the education problem with more of the same education is like trying to solve the obesity problem with more Twinkies.

That is all.

Once upon a time

2009-09-25T07:57:00.002-04:00

One of my favorite things about homeschooling is the ability to study history in chronological order. Things actually happened before Plymouth Rock. Interesting things! And starting from the beginning makes it easier to understand why and how things have progressed.

For H an M, the first four years of our curriculum focus on interesting stories and engaging projects to familiarize them with the topics they'll study more in depth in the middle grades.

This week, we learned about Ancient Crete and the legend of the Minotaur. After having heard many, many stories about Egyptian Gods and fierce battles, the idea of a half-bull, half-man chained in a basement wasn't all that impressive.

H has dubbed the feared beast "Bull-dude".
That kid cracks me up.

I'm looking for a word...

2009-09-15T15:24:00.002-04:00

for a person who really doesn't want to go to the doctor because she's afraid of being diagnosed as a hypochondriac. Or finding out that her fear of being diagnosed as a hypochondriac has prevented her from being diagnosed with some horrible disease in a timely manner. Because maybe she is really is sick. Or a real hypochondriac. Or a really sick hypochondriac.

And now that person has a doctor appointment set for Monday and can't decide whether making a long, detailed list of symptoms will make her look like a complete hypochondriac or provide the road map to some obscure diagnosis.

Either way, I think she's effed.

Wish her luck!

The roller coaster

2009-09-11T12:11:00.003-04:00

Eight years ago today, I realized I was bringing another life into the world. As if it weren't enough to suddenly doubt my then-3yo's future, I found myself wondering what another child's introduction to this place would look like.

While it still seems like only yesterday, a lot has happened since then. Not only did I bring a wonderful child into this world, but I've gone on to do so twice more. And so have women in Afghanistan, Iraq, Pakistan, Korea, Guatemala, France, England, Italy, Ethiopia, Japan, Germany, Sweden, Ghana, Canada, Rwanda, and every other country in the world.

As frightened as I may have been, I was and am extremely fortunate. My children are extremely fortunate. I knew this on 9/10/01, but I didn't understand it until a few months later. And now that I do, I try to remind myself every single day.

Today I turn my thoughts specifically to those lost eight years ago and all those who still suffer from that tragic day. This focused rumination is what will take me through the next 364 days of global devastation, celebration, disappointment, relief, setbacks and progress. Because we are not the only ones who ride this ride. Today may be the anniversary of turn, but it's running all year round.

We're getting there!

2009-09-10T11:48:00.002-04:00

I hate potty training.
Hate it.
Hate it.
Hate it.

If I didn't fear a Child Services investigation, I'd probably leave my children in diapers until they were 7. That's how much I hate potty training.

My first three kids probably would have let me. But I did my duty (tee hee!) and introduced them to the toilet. I don't think a single one of them took less than a full year to get the hang of it. It was a nightmare.

Then there's C. HE thinks the potty is the greatest thing in the entire world. He loves to flush. He loves to watch everything go down. He loves to drive me crazy.

What took everyone else forever to grasp seems to be coming relatively easy for him, and I think we will become a diaper-free household pretty soon. Which is awesome. Except for the fact that fitting a year long process into a couple of months still feels like fitting a year long process into a couple of months.

How one little boy can manage to use the toilet 13 times in one day while still having at least a half dozen wet diapers AND two or three accidents on the floor is beyond me. I don't think I went that often while I was pregnant with him!

So, right now, my life revolves around pee.

I hate potty training.

The outside world

2009-08-26T14:38:00.002-04:00

I am not really a people person. I like my little bubble. There are very few people I'm willing to leave my bubble for, and even fewer who are allowed inside my bubble.

For some reason, people feel that keeping my kids inside this bubble is mean. I'm not sure why I should care what people think, since I don't even like many of them, but I suppose it's only fair to give the kids the chance to complain about people other than me. And each other. So I took them out to "socialize" today.

They sell lunch at the clubhouse in our development. I'm pretty sure "they" is the social committee. I can't say for certain, since I only work on a committee that people never want to deal with, which works out well for a non-people-person like myself. Anyway, we've never had lunch at the clubhouse in the 4 years we've lived here. The reason should be obvious. So I never knew that I could drive a mile down the road and feed 4 kids and myself for a grand total of $6.50, with no dishes to wash!

While we were there, I finally introduced myself and the kids to our development's homeschool group. Yup, we've been living here for 4 years, homeschooling for 2+, and I just introduced myself today. And guess what. I didn't immediately not like them. This is progress.

Perhaps my bubble is a bit too restrictive. I think I might be able to convince myself to leave it a little more often. Especially when cheap lunch is involved.

What's fair is fair

2009-08-23T18:01:00.002-04:00

The big kids have been off doing various wonderful things with different relatives while poor little C gets stuck with boring Mom and Dad. Our big trip today was going to be to a farmer's market we haven't checked out yet. Until we found out that it will be next week.

So I found myself suggesting we go to the fair.

I am officially old. A couple of hours at the fair has completely exhausted me. My feet hurt. My stomach hurts. And I loved the band that was playing. They're called Midlife Crisis. Sigh.

But C seemed to have a good time. We may need to cut back a bit on the cartoons though. While walking through the livestock exhibits, my darling 2yo looked at the animals and said "Hi! I'm C. How are you?", as though expecting a response.
To be fair, these animals were so purdy they were nearly cartoon-like!

I was hoping to accomplish so much more today, but there's just no energy left in me. We're starting back up with school work tomorrow. It would have been nice to have a fresh start in a clean, organized house. Maybe next year!

Gaps

2009-08-06T16:06:00.002-04:00

Many homeschoolers tend to fret about creating gaps in their child's education. What if we forget to teach the history of Denmark? Or if we accidentally skip the battery circuit experiment?

Blah. Public schooled kids have gaps. For instance, I was taught that the world began with Christopher Columbus and any war that America wasn't involved in had no relevance. I was also taught that french fries were part of a balanced meal, but we were never graded on Lunch, so I guess that's no big deal.

One of my goals as a homeschool parent (because I have like 214) is to give my kids an education that is as gap-free as reasonably possible. So we do things like compare the Old, Middle, and New Kingdoms of Egypt and recite poetry they don't understand. But something has to give. So here are the things I've forgotten to teach them.

1. The definition of "away" isn't "under your bed".
2. "Something smells" means "something smells BAD".
3. It's not okay to pee on the cat (even if it is funny).
4. Privates must be completely covered in public.
5. Bandaids are for boo-boos. They are not temporary tattoos.
6. 5 squares are plenty (most of the time). And an entire roll won't flush.
7. Strangers don't want to hear your life story. Especially the embarrasing parts about Mommy.
8. Shale driveways are not meant to be swept clear so you can dribble a basketball.
9. The "Look both ways before you cross the street. Use your eyes, ears, and then you use your feet" chant has motions to go along with it.
10.How to cover your tracks.

Number 10 is a good one though. Yes, I do recognize the handwriting on my Sharpie'd mattress. I do not know where they picked up the whole "X was here" idea. I'm too upset to care now that I know my child is stupid enough to use their own name.

Perhaps we should write a poem about it.

Pleasant Acres

2009-08-02T09:24:00.005-04:00

As J gets ready to turn the big 1-1, I find myself reminiscing. I gave my parents hell as a tween and young teen.
Fortunately, it wasn't a rehab/juvie/bootcamp/she-has-no-future-type hell. That would come later. But attitude and emotion wise? Hell.

And yet, despite the "I hate you"s and "You never let me do anything"s and "My life sucks so hard"s, my parents gave me an amazing childhood.

We were a camping family. Camping, as in flushing toilets, showers and electricity, for the most part. Something like this:Of course, now the norm looks more like this:

For more than a dozen years, we would spend our weekends at "The Campground" from May to June and September to October, and the entire months of July and August.

My friends and I could navigate our way through thick woods by age 8 and build the perfect campfire before age 10. We could pitch a 3-person tent in 10 minutes and then squeeze 6 little girls in for a slumber party. My sisters and I could pack a station wagon with 2 months of supplies for a family of 5 in 30 minutes and do it RIGHT, so that all of the immediate-needs items could be unpacked in 10, and we could run off to find our Campground friends.

We knew how to bait a hook, fix a bike chain, cook over an open fire, walk a dead tree to cross a brook, tip a cow, sheer a sheep, make pancakes for 15, cook mountain pies for any meal AND dessert, carve initials in trees, smoke a cigarette without getting caught OR burning down the woods, and stretch an 11pm curfew to 11:35 without getting grounded.

This is where I met my best friends, got my first and worst skinned knees, my first kiss and my first broken heart, learned to appreciate the scent of moth balls, danced the Electric Slide and the Virginia Reel, played Rummikube with Grandma, and drove Grandpa's car.

The Campground was my life.

Last night, the husband and I took the maniacs out to see where Mommy grew up. I was a little nervous about taking them. They know nothing of campground etiquette, and they are definitely not accustomed to doing a lot of walking. Nor are they used to open fire pits or goats that "nibble". I was a bit of a nervous wreck, suddenly seeing danger everywhere.

They LOVED it!
In little more than 4 hours, we managed to squeeze in a tour of all the animal pens (goats, turkeys, geese, horses, cows, and sheep), time on the playground, dinner, a peek at my old campsite, a great big campfire, and way too many s'mores. And I forgot to bring a real camera.

It was so cool to see my kids being, well, ME!

All morning, they've been asking when we'll take them back. I think it's time to start shopping for a starter trailer.

The little things

2009-07-29T10:45:00.003-04:00

I've come to the conclusion that priorities are almost pointless.

I'm 32 years old. I've spent a decent amount of time figuring out what is most important to me, what my strengths are, and in which direction I want to head. Things are about as clear as one can reasonably hope for (which is to say, not exactly murky, but far from crystal).

But you know what? That doesn't mean anywhere near as much as I hoped it would. Because while one devotes a great deal of time and energy to the top priorities, the lower ones unionize. They gather with their bits and pieces, undetected until they form a giant wall that can completely separate you from your goals.

It's rather depressing.

And now I must go dust before the bunnies revolt.

My Achilles Heel

2009-07-24T13:57:00.003-04:00

I'm a pretty confident person. Even when I'm self-conscious, I can usually will myself to appear ballsy enough to fake it. But there's one situation I've never been able to cope with: Court.

I've gone to court on a traffic violation, and I thought I was going to die.
In 10 years, I've gone to family court twice (and mediation twice) and thought I was going to puke all over myself.

Court terrifies me. Doesn't matter whether I'm obviously in the right or not, I have to choose my breakfast carefully because I may have to revisit it in reverse.

I'm waiting to find out if I'll have to go back to court. Just thinking about it, I'm shaky and nauseated and feeling a little faint. The caffeine probably isn't helping, but it's doing a good job of keeping the migraine at bay.

I've had bread and butter and a little bit of pasta today. Anything more would be reckless. Now you know my weakness.

Food is ugly

2009-07-20T07:26:00.005-04:00

I'm reading Food, Inc.

I wouldn't say that there are many surprises in the book. I already knew that I didn't like the idea of poisons on my kids' food (or in our air, soil and water). Genetically modified food already freaked me out. I was already convinced that feeding animals hormones and antibiotics is bad. And I've always had a problem with the issue of immigration and farming. But now I feel like I'm on some big crusade within my own home.

Have you ever seen battery cages?

Or a feedlot?

Did you ever wonder who is out there, hand-picking your strawberries? http://www.ers.usda.gov/publications/err60/err60.pdf
The USDA comes right out and tells us that about half are illegal (and almost all are foreign), and that 80% of them work 40+ hours/wk for an average of $318. In the sun. Immersed in pesticides. So we can have strawberry shortcake in February.

Basically, this book has taken all of my earlier concerns and made me realize that I'm not just paranoid. There are funky things going on in the food industry and I'm not being forced to participate. I'm being forced to work really hard in order to opt out.

I took my daughters to the local farm market this past weekend. They picked out half a dozen ears of corn (since we planted late). They were relatively short ears. The kernels varied in size and had some "interesting" patterns to them. No two looked alike. In other words, they were perfect! Grown from nature's seeds (not a lab's), in clean, local soil, recently harvested by the people who were paid for them.

We did pay slightly more than we would have for supermarket corn on sale. What we saved were the chemicals, the Frankenstein breeding, and the extra transportation. And my girls got to see that Amish people really do exist!

I can't completely change overnight. I managed to choke down some mass-produced chicken last night, and a Shop Rite cheeseburger the night before. I did talk to one of the farmers about getting half a cow and some chicken for our chest freezer. From a cow that lives in a field and chickens that have never seen a cage. Or been fed antibiotics. Or bred to grow at rates that would produce 300+lb human toddlers.

I know many people already think I'm weird with my slightly-crunchy take on the world, and a whole bunch are going to think I've really gone nuts now. But that's okay. If it's nuts to want to avoid buying a 10yo a bra or feminine hygiene products, or to contribute to a farmer's livelihood instead of a corporation's stock, or to eat real food and avoid poisons, than I'm happy to be nuts. Organic, locally grown, fair-wage nuts!

If you don't mind eating animals that were covered in feces before being cut up, eating species that have been spliced with other species and not knowing what species that might be, or getting your lettuce from China, that's your business. And I think you're nuts.

For the record, there are some points in the book I disagree with. But I do recommend everyone read it. Or see it, if you don't live in the boonies like me. If you can get through it without wanting to make a single change to your kitchen, I'll eat an unwashed supermarket strawberry.

Baby!

2009-07-11T07:22:00.003-04:00

It's official, I'm an aunt!

Baby M was born at 3:27 on Friday.

I want to bite her. Not in an evil way, but in that "I could just eat her up with a spoon" way. Minus the spoon, because I'm just not that classy.

The aunt thing is so weird. Of the three D-sisters, I'm the one who makes the babies. I'm the one who tries to shush the babies while I'm on the phone. I'm the one who is always trying to grow a third hand. I'm the one who can't go more than a few hours without mentioning poop.

I don't know how I feel about abdicating that mommy throne. I can't figure out whether I'm more upset that I am 800 miles away from that delicious baby or that going to visit her might result in being on the 6 o'clock news for kidnapping when it's been months since I've had my highlights done. I can't make sense of this longing I have for another baby when I've already decided that I most definitely do not want another baby.

Last night, the husband, the kids and I sat down and watched Martian Child.

"Sometimes we forget that children have just arrived on the earth. They are a little like aliens, coming into beings as bundles of energy and pure potential, here on some exploratory mission and they are just trying to learn what it means to be human. For some reason Dennis and I reached out into the universe and found each other, Never really know how or why. And discovered that I can love an alien and he can love a creature. And that's weird enough for both of us."

Welcome to the world, Baby M!

Teacher

2009-07-07T08:33:00.005-04:00

Words always carry weight, but the way in which they're measured can vary greatly from speaker to listener, and the way in which they're balanced can shift in different context or with further reflection. Titles are the biggest word-enigmas.

I had a list of titles I never wanted to be given or to claim. I felt that most were inaccurate or patronizing or that I was simply unworthy. I've never given much credence to the titles others bestow on me because I have been weighing them with my own scale, not by the scale of the speaker. I balanced their words within the scope of my own inferiority complex and my own tendency to attempt to appeal to what I've always assumed were the larger egos of everyone else. And I simply assumed they would do the same.

Two years ago, my grandmother was fretting over my decision to homeschool. With so many degreed teachers in our family, her skepticism made sense.

A few weeks ago, Grandma and I raided the library book sale. As I loaded an insane number of books onto the checkout counter, the cashier asked if I was a teacher. While I started to explain that I was a homeschooler, Grandma proudly proclaimed that yes, I was a Teacher, teaching my children at home.

Before that day, I would have rolled my eyes and cringed a bit at such a statement. But this time I used the speaker's scale; the scale of a woman who once doubted my methods and questioned my lack of credentials. Here she was, giving me a title I had never been able to honestly give myself. And she believed it. And now I do.

Mahhhvelous

2009-07-01T09:35:00.006-04:00

How in the world does one describe M?

She's the second in a set of almost-Irish-twins. She's the second middle child. She's the second girl.

But she's the first child to look like me. She's the first to suggest a frog hunt. She's the first to comfort her baby brother. She's the first to make new friends and the first to help me in the garden. She's almost always the first to forgive, and she's definitely the first I turn to when I need some affirmation.

M is intense.
When she's happy, she's ecstatic.
When she's angry, she is terrifying.
She plays dress up in the mud and reads while hanging upside down.

M is well on her way to being my mini-me. I apologize.

She also happens to be 6 years old today.

Happy birthday, Porgs!

Mom2ninjas

2009-06-26T10:01:00.004-04:00

My kitchen sink is approximately 4 feet from my hallway. The hallway is guarded by a gate. This morning, as I was washing the breakfast dishes (okay, and some of last night's), a certain someone managed to sneak across those 4 feet, breach the security gate, and plop down in the middle of his sisters' bedroom to play with choking hazards. While I was standing right there! You can just imagine the things that happen when I'm another 10 feet away at the dining room table.

I'm obviously raising ninjas.

The incredible stealth abilities of my children often leads to frustration and the throwing up of my hands, which inevitably leads to more chaos. You can tell me they need more discipline, that I must command obedience or that I should beat these traits out of them, but I believe you should be thanking me instead. I'll probably continue to grit my teeth and bear the insanity that comes with raising the incredible secret agents who will one day save the world.

You're welcome.

In the meantime, I'll keep finding myself in situations that make me look like a Real Bad Mommy. That doesn't mean I AM one. My kids are happy and healthy despite the fact that I now refuse to dig for the chewed up crayons in my toddler's mouth and I often overestimate their ability to handle horror movies (though I still consider Shaun of the Dead to be more of a comedy).

I take comfort in knowing I'm not the only mom who has WTF moments. It keeps me semi-sane. Contribute to this cause by sharing your own Real Bad Mommy stories here. The Baddest of the Bad has finally resurrected the site! You'd think she'd been busy or something for the past couple of years.

Now I have to try to stick 180 tissues back into their box. Yup, I'm 10 feet away!

A dose of reality

2009-06-24T15:04:00.002-04:00

All of this hoopla surrounding a certain reality tv family has somehow managed to forced me to look at my own family from an audience perspective.

If I had complete control over the editing, this is what you would have seen today:

-The husband spending the early part of the morning helping out by walking the dogs, getting C some milk, making the coffee, and writing a list of things I would like for him to bring home after work.
-Me doing dishes, laundry, sweeping, picking up toys, jotting down some ideas for our curriculum in the fall, and marking the kids' height on our laundry room door.
-H flipping through a cookbook, looking for new things to make.
-H and M climbing trees, playing with bugs, and making a hopscotch board on the deck.
-C being all cuddly and cute, saying "please" repeatedly, using the potty, and hugging the cats.
-J helping with a few morning chores and drawing his own comic strip.

If I had no control over the editing, this is what you would have seen today:

-The husband walking around like a zombie this morning (poor guy had to spend last night getting paid to hang out in bars), completely 'forgetting' to feed and water the dogs, and telling me we already have plenty of milk (not what the fridge told me at 3:00).
-Me doing last night's dishes, boiling cloth diapers because I let them get too much soap build up, sweeping 3 times and still having crumbs, tossing toys into the mound we call "the toy pile", debating whether or not the girls can handle anatomically correct illustrations I wasn't really expecting in one particular book, and making C cry every time I tried to straighten his knees to be measured.
-H having every recipe she chose shot down because we're missing at least 3 ingredients.
-H and M getting yelled at for hanging upside down in trees, throwing bugs at each other, and for shaking the entire deck while I'm trying to write this.
-C trying to convince me to play trains while I try to distract him, running around the house nekkid through most of the morning, and choking the cats.
-J willing to do anything to escape the bedroom he's supposed to be cleaning, and thinking I don't know that he's drawing instead of cleaning.

Then there are the things I wouldn't be able to decide on. What would the world think if they saw my girls announce that they were going to potty train their brother? They even set up a folder to time his potty trips and track his successes, and they decided to reward him with honey roasted peanuts. Adorable kids? Slacker mom? Inappropriate mixing of the sexes?

How about the theft of the red Jell-o packet? Would that shot catch me in the background, playing Bejeweled Blitz?

And would it even be possible to get any of this on tape without hearing Annie, iCarly and Thomas the Tank Engine through the vast majority of it? Not to mention the 4-letter words I can't seem to keep from slipping out.

It's interesting trying to view the day from two different perspectives. You can't edit anything and then still call it reality. You can't boil hours down to 20 or 40 minutes of clips and pretend it's honest.

If that sounds like I'm trying to defend anyone, I'm not. I am, and always will be, against selling childhoods.
But I'm having fun picturing our 1-hour special!

Gung ho?

2009-06-22T14:33:00.005-04:00

Apparently, this term doesn't mean what I thought it did.
From http://www.chinapage.com/word/gungho.html
" This unofficial motto of the US Marine Corps is an abbreviation for the Mandarin Gongye Hezhoushe, or industrial cooperative. The term was used in China, starting in 1938, to refer to small, industrial operations that were being established in rural China to replace the industrial centers that had been captured by the Japanese. The phrase was clipped to the initial characters of the two words, gung ho (or gung he, as it would be transliterated today), which means "work together." This clipping became a slogan for the industrial cooperative movement."

Here I was, thinking I was all gung ho over bread making, but it turns out I'm probably just mildly OCD with a very addictive personality.

I made my first loaf of sandwich bread yesterday. I'm really excited about it, because it is 100% whole wheat, and I was told that could be tricky to master. Not that I actually mastered it. All I had on hand was a Pyrex loaf pan, which really isn't the best tool, and I think that's why the bread was slightly more chewy than I would have liked. But still.

I really hate cooking, and I only slightly tolerate baking. And the only reason I put baking above regular cooking is because baking always tastes better.

I do feel that it's very important to feed my family healthy foods, but it's always so damn expensive!
I have high hopes for our organic vegetable garden, and I'm extremely grateful to have children who prefer raw vegetables to cooked! I'm also trying to figure out ways to cut back on meats, which is really hard when you already spent a good 6 years trying to get a child to eat a frickin hamburger and finally succeeded! But my big thing lately has been the cost of whole grain breads. Our family goes through so much bread that I actually did resort to Shoprite's completely nutritionally void 99 cent white bread. And anyone with half a brain knows that the only thing that's good for is $hi! on a Shingle. A meal that also involves way too much fat and a million preservatives. And I've been craving it for days now!

So, I bit the bullet and tried my hand at bread making. So far, 3 out of 4 kids have given it the green light, and the fourth is on her way home from Grandma's.

But then comes the obsessive aspect. I found Pleasant Hill Grain.

Making an average of 7 loaves of bread each week sounds like a monumental task. Certainly a Bosch mixer would help me out. And, instead of buying bags of flour that have sat on the store shelf for a while, wouldn't it be great to buy 45lb buckets of wheat berries and grind them fresh every week in a Nutramill? Of course, I'll also need a great set of loaf pans, and I may as well throw in a few cute bagette pans. I could use decent cooling racks. That gadget for slicing bread evenly would be awesome! And, while I'm thinking about it, I'm in the market for a knife sharpener.

I'm also busy thinking about all of the great recipes I should try. Whole wheat bagels, sandwich rolls, english muffins, waffles (oops, need a new waffle iron while I'm at it!), pita pockets, pizza dough...

I wonder if I can call it "gung ho" if I'm able to rope the kids into cooperating. I'm going to need a lot of help!

Publish a blog post. Check!

2009-06-18T13:08:00.002-04:00

For the record, I have about 8 blog posts sitting in draft. I have major issues with follow through. I'm an ideas person. I'm all stimulant with no sustenance. This is why I'm going to have multiple assistants when I win the lottery. I'll explain my wonderful visions to them and then they can go figure out how to make it happen.

I'm also going to have a housekeeper, because I suck at that job. I plain don't like household chores. I've spent so much time avoiding them, it's almost as though I've forgotten HOW to clean.

With our school year technically being over, I don't have as much of an excuse to ignore the clutter and filth as I usually do. I spent about a week looking over my house, trying to figure out how to prioritize. Instead, I just overwhelmed myself and spent another few days with my head in the sand.

But now I have to get serious. I've finally made a household chore list! I'm feeling pretty pathetic though. Knowing myself as well as I do, I made sure to not only list the breakfast, lunch and dinner dishes separately, but I've listed washing the laundry, drying the laundry, and putting the laundry away separately. Because I truly am such a housekeeping loser that it is entirely possible for me to leave my family living out of the dryer for 2 or 3 days (while a wet load gets musty in the washer and a pile of clean clothes gets covered with dirty clothes of course).

I'm on my third day, and I've only done about half of my list each day. I'm ashamed to admit that, while my house is still a pig sty, it actually does look noticeably better than before! How sad is that?

The truth is, my house is never going to look "company ready", even when we're expecting company. We have 28 legs living in a small house. The kids have a few small chores and the husband helps out when he can, but the majority of the work falls in my 2 hands. The math just doesn't work.

But I'm trying.

And now my list tells me I need to go pee.

You can't check your sources if you don't have any sources

2009-06-03T09:02:00.003-04:00

I love debating issues and exchanging ideas. I really love doing so via the internet, because it (usually) provides ample time to craft a thoughtful response. Unless you're dealing with ignorant ideas and opinions without facts. Then it just becomes a rush of banal ranting. I got sucked into one of those this week.

If you're a homeschooler, you already know about the garbage being spewed by a certain teacher. I'm not about to name names, because then I would feel obligated to provide links and quotes, thus generating more traffic for the twit and flaming my own misplaced emotions that I believe I've finally managed to smother.

If nothing else, the whole debacle has left me with what I hope will be a permanent sticky-note in my brain that reads "Teach your kids formal logic and rhetoric!"

People have a natural aversion to things they don't understand. Sometimes that's perfectly fine. But, if you're going to write about a topic, either admit that you don't understand, or make an effort to learn about it first.

My assumption has always been that most people are not interested in learning about homeschooling. And that's fine. But I don't understand why anyone would want to engage in a discussion ABOUT homeschooling unless they ARE interested in some way or another. And if one IS interested, wouldn't it make logical sense to, I don't know, ask questions rather than spew ignorance?

So, dear readers, I just want to let you know that, if you ever wonder about homeschooling, whether it be how I get any housework done (Answer: I don't, but plenty of other homeschoolers are perfect Suzy Homemakers. I'm only jealous when I'm craving a bubble bath in a clean tub.) or whether my kids have to take standardized tests (Answer: In grades 3, 5 and 8 in my state. Some states have no testing, others must test annually.), feel free to ask. I would genuinely love the opportunity to address real questions, rather than emotionally banging my head against a brick wall.

And if you couldn't care less, that's cool too. Just do me (and yourself) a favor and refrain from putting any judgments in print unless you're into that kind of blog circus. (And, if you are, you're welcome for the traffic tip!)

If music be the food of love

2009-06-02T13:14:00.002-04:00

then the husband REALLY needs to take me to see Rock of Ages!

I can't really concentrate on this post because I'm really busy rocking out to the soundtrack (in stores on the 7th, I think, but available for download on Amazon and iTunes now).
How can anyone NOT get swept up?

I've got to tell you, I was not Constantine's biggest fan, but he makes me drool in this role. Then again, you could probably put just about anyone in this role and I'd drool. It's all about the music, baby. And being able to laugh at the ridiculous awesomeness of it all!

What I wouldn't do for a banana clip and some Aqua Net right now.

Behind in blogging the birthday blur

2009-06-01T10:23:00.002-04:00

I am now the proud owner of a 7-year-old daughter.

I have no idea how that happened.
I spent the day marveling at the fact that I somehow survived her infancy (much of it spent pregnant with her sister). H was born a non-sleeping screamer. The only time she slept for more than a 10 minute clip was when she was ON someone (which makes me marvel at the fact that she even has a sister).

I zombied my way through so many of those early days, and now I find myself scrambling to observe and imprint all of her later milestones. The trouble is, she's just hitting them too fast to keep up with.

This kid has taken my life by storm, and she's well on her way to doing the same to the world. Right now, she plans to do so by being a "pizza girl". And there's no doubt in my mind that she could.

Unless Daddy turns her into a hockey star before then.

Happy birthday, Baby. Big Girl. Young Lady.
Sigh.

The joys of parenting

2009-05-29T10:28:00.003-04:00

What other (occupation, hobby, life-choice, whatever you want to call it) calls for explaining why it is not a good idea to place signs that read "Peep Stand" at the end of your driveway?

Mind tripping

2009-05-28T07:12:00.004-04:00

I am a book whore.
I stalk the bargain shelves at Borders. I've even begun stalking library book sales. I've had to take a hiatus from raiding the actual library until I pay off my insanely high fines. Amazon is like a drug that I'm desperately trying to detox from.

I always feel out of the loop when I see other people's book lists. In a way, I guess that's a good thing. I'm not very good at discussing books. I'm also not very good at reading them from cover to cover.

The lists I see usually consist of a pile of 1-3 "reading now" titles, followed by piles of varying heights of "to be read" titles. This is a concept that amazes me. I've never had separate piles. To me, it'd be like getting a stack of presents, opening one or two, and leaving the rest until you're through with the first.
How can anyone stand that suspense?!

Of course, that way makes logical sense, but it seems awfully boring. And, of course, my way has huge drawbacks.

My current book list, all bookmarked in seemingly random places:

Don Quixote
Alice's Adventures in Wonderland
Financial Peace
The Words We Live By: Your Annotated Guide to the Constitution
The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Rings
The Complete Idiot's Guide to the World of Narnia
Mommy Wars
Different Minds
One Day at a Time
A Breath of Snow and Ashes
Dumbing us Down
The Well-Trained mind (bookmarked in multiple places)
An Introduction to Literature, Criticism and Theory
The Schools our Children Deserve
It Seemed Like a Good Idea: A Compendium of Great Historical Fiascoes
Death of a Salesman

A Mind Apart: Travels in a Neurodiverse World
and
The History of the Ancient World

This is a problem.
This is also an example of why girls are so much less likely to be diagnosed with ADHD. I've never jumped on furniture, disrupted a classroom, or otherwise appeared to bounce off the walls, but my mind races from one idea to another. Frantically. Constantly.

I have managed to finish several books in the past few months, most of which were first cracked open at the beginning of the year, if not earlier. It's not so much an inability to finish things as much as a compulsion to seek more, more, more!
Which is why I'm drawn to A Mind Apart.

This is a neurodiverse world. While the rapid increase in neurological "conditions" worries even me, searching for miracle cures also concerns me. Would it be prudent to eradicate ADD? Asperger's Syndrome? Or, in Susanne Antonetta's case, bipolar disorder?

It might make my family easier to handle. Then again, so would having fewer children, having a larger home, having hired help, or fewer pets. Granted, those were all choices, not a genetic luck of the draw. But the fact remains, many of life's difficulties bring with them enormous joy and meaning. We learn to cope with the downsides in order to reap the upsides.

Without atypical neurology, where would new ideas come from? How can the world advance if we all think along a standard track? Or should we be content with the standard track?

I'm going to do my best to focus on Antonetta's travels and make it to the end of her book with few pit stops. But I have to admit, Tolkien is beckoning to me with lines like "not all who wander are lost".

That's enough mind-tripping for now. I have a litter box to clean out.

Dear people who think having 4 kids must be exhausting

2009-05-23T09:52:00.002-04:00

You're nuts.

I'll admit, MY 4 kids tend to be fairly exhausting as a group, but that group is NOTHING compared to a single toddler.

The husband is away, and my in-laws have taken the 3 big kids for the weekend. It's just me and the babe.

It has taken me 4 hours to drink 2 cups of coffee.
I've been hand-fed Cheerios.
I've drawn about a dozen circles and half a dozen squares.
I've played cars.
I've played trains.
I've build sand castles.
I've read 4 Elmo books.
I've rescued 2 cats approximately 3 times each.
I've had "help" with 2 loads of laundry.
I've played several different characters in a puppet show that involved an awful lot of biting and kissing.
I've build a block tower. Repeatedly.
And now I'm being asked to put the train track back together again.

10am and I am officially exhausted.
My big kids don't change diapers or do laundry or dishes. They don't vacuum, and their attempts to sweep are... well, attempts. But boy do they play a big part in keeping things running semi-smooth around here.
I need my entertainment crew.

And a nap.

The grass is always greener

2009-05-21T16:31:00.002-04:00

in someone else's pasture. Especially when you don't have your own pasture.

Some history:
When I was growing up, I was convinced that I would have some high-pressure, high-paying, fancy shmancy career. In Manhattan. Where I would live in the cutest little brownstone, surrounded by impressive art, a Yorkshire Terrier, and a perfect little child or two. Oh, and I guess their daddy. I never really thought much about that part.

Instead, I wound up moving west of Jersey, not east. I traded the suburbs for the sub-suburbs, my brownstone for a vacation style home, my framed art for fingerprints and crayon drawings, my Yorkie for two mutts, and my perfect child for four little maniacs. I'm a homeschooling mom who hasn't worn heels in well over two years. And I almost always look forward to my husband coming home.

And you know what's funny about the whole thing? I dream of moving even farther away from my original plan.

I just found the perfect homestead property in NY State (which, ironically IS even farther away from Manhattan than the Poconos). It has an adorable (ancient) 5 bedroom farmhouse, elaborate gardens, fenced in pastures with animal shelters, outbuildings, a store front, and even a sign for grabbing the tourists' attention.

I could have chickens! And sheep!
I've wanted chickens for a long time, but now I'm finding myself researching sheep and all of the wonderful things you can do with them. Wool, meat, milk... oh, the milk! You've got your sheep milk milk, sheep milk cheese, sheep milk yogurt, sheep milk soap, sheep milk lotion, sheep milk bath milk. That's... That's about it. ;-)

So all of this sheep information is floating around in my head and the husband is totally supportive, figuring how can it hurt to support such a far-fetched dream, right? And then I did more digging and found a job opening in his field out by my new dream home.

He's in Florida right now, making sure this nor'easter doesn't ruin everyone's mall shopping, so I can't exactly nag him to apply. And, even if he did, we'd have to do some real fancy footwork to figure out a way to actually move. So, it's still just a dream. But it's such a lovely one.

My former self is laughing hysterically.

Need more time!

2009-05-15T08:30:00.003-04:00

I haven't posted in about 2 weeks, but I have good reasons.
My pregnant sister stayed with us for about a week before her baby shower (which I wrote a nice long post about before my laptop battery died and I lost most of it), and then I had to spend a week catching up on my t.v. shows. So there.

So let me fill you in. I am going to be an aunt for the first time. House did not have sex with Cuddy. Lindsay and Danny made Mac Lucy's godfather. Mike was not The Biggest Loser. Adrianna and Naveed are not getting married, and her water breaks at the prom. Melinda will marry her husband, the father of her child, but it'll make her look like a skank. "Libby" AND "Jacob" were on CSI. And I'm going to go nuts before Lost comes back.

Also, we're trying to wrap up our school year, plan next year's, get our vegetable garden going so we can harvest before winter comes back, attempt to get ready for a yard sale, do some work on the house, and keep up with dogs who are shedding so much we could drown in the hair.

Other than that, things are incredibly boring around here!

Time flies

2009-05-01T07:33:00.004-04:00

C was supposed to be born nearly two weeks before my 30th birthday.

He decided to wait until a few days after my birthday.

He's had his own plans since conception.

He's the fourth baby we thought we might have "one day".

He has brought everyone in this house (minus the pets, maybe) more joy than I ever could have imagined.

None of us can help but smile around him, even on our crummiest days.

Even when he's being naughty.

Because he makes up for it in a big way!

No matter how old he gets,

even if he were to have a dozen younger siblings,

I think he'll always be Our Baby.

No matter what the pictures say.

Happy 2nd birthday, Con Man. Love you to itty bitty pieces!

Not a broken nose

2009-04-25T07:55:00.002-04:00

So I text my sisters to tell them I'm in the ER, waiting to see if H has a broken nose. One sister texts back "I'm reporting you to (other sister)." Other sister works for child services. The other sister texts back "What did you do to her?"

My family loves me.

To be honest, H's injury is a direct result of disobeying Mommy. The kids are not supposed to be in the trampoline, because we haven't put the cover back over the springs yet. And the kids are not supposed to be in the trampoline all together EVER. So they were, of course. And H fell and smacked her face on the metal.

She wasn't howling in pain, so I figured she was fine. The husband got home and said her nose was broken. I told him he was nuts.

The next day, the swelling seemed to be going down, and everything looked fine to me.

The following evening, I noticed she had a black eye. And all I could think was "Damn. I really don't want to hear 'I told you so'."

So I finally took H in for x-rays. The desk people said it looked broken. The triage nurse said it was definitely broken. When the doctor came in with the results, SHE said she had figured it was broken, but the x-rays showed no sign of a fracture. She'll just look like a boxer for a few more days.

Between this and my own recent hospital experience(s), I am officially declaring myself Better Than Medical Professionals. This is my superpower.

I'd like to trade that superpower for the weekend for one that will allow me to paint a room in 10 minutes. We're doing a complete overhaul on H&M's bedroom. I hate this kind of thing. But it's way overdue, and I'm crossing my fingers that a new room will motivate them to keep things semi-neat and clean. At least for the first few weeks.

Time for Mike Tyson and I to start scrubbing the "art work" off those walls. Wish me luck!

My husband is the greatest husband in the word but if this crap keeps up I'll let just about anyone play Daddy

2009-04-17T10:02:00.003-04:00

Last week, the husband was gone from Sunday to Thursday. This week, he left before dawn on Monday. He was supposed to be back tonight, but his flight was canceled. Maybe we'll see him tomorrow.

I had forgotten what it's like to have him traveling, and this is pretty much the first time I've really been left with four crazy people.

Some people claim they wouldn't be able to spend all day, every day with their kids. I claim the key is running and hiding when Daddy comes home. When Daddy's not home, it sucks!

I can only assume the reverse is the true. I wouldn't really know, since the husband has called his Mommy's whenever I've skipped town.

Two nights ago, I dove into the chocolate. Last night, it was cookies (what was left of the cookie dough). Tonight, I'm really thinking it should be rum. Probably not a good idea when you're alone with 4 crazy children.

I guess I'll save the rum for when he gets home. He can be in charge, even if he does have to call his moooommmy.

Damn. There's a sudden silence. This can't be good. And this is why the rum will have to wait.

You name it

2009-04-13T08:16:00.003-04:00

I have had nothing to write about lately. Considering my tendency to write about things that annoy me, this is probably a good thing.

What has been going on? M lost her first tooth. C learned how to escape the crib. H has been giving me fabulous narrations on The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. J has been practicing Beatles songs on the keyboard- a much welcome break from Rush. I hate Rush.

The weather is infuriating. 60 degrees and beautiful one day, a blanket of snow the next. Somehow, my hyacinths have managed to survive thus far.

I have a new obsession with books. H and I took Grandma to her local library's book sale a few weeks ago. I came home with more than 50 books and a belly full of Panera. :)

I ventured back into our local used-book store. I found nothing of interest, and spent $1 on 3 children's books because I couldn't bring myself to walk out empty handed after an hour of browsing.

I finally got my copy of The Well-Educated Mind: A Guide to the Classical Education You Never Had.

These 3 events have given me 2 new goals.

1. I'm going to start reading. Yes, I've always read, but I've never read with any real purpose. For one, I'm not good at purposeful reading. For another, I'm just REALLY not good at purposeful reading. But it's a talent I've been working hard to cultivate in my kids, and I finally realize I should lead by example. We're off to Borders today so I can begin working my way through TWEM's novel list. It's going to be rough, but I'm going to do it!

2. I want to own my own used-book store. This will be a challenge, considering I'm already cringing at the price of buying 31 novels for my reading list (Susan Wise Bauer tells me I'm a grown up now, and I have the right and responsibility to deface my books. The library would disagree, I'm sure. Look out, bank account!)

Ideally, my bookstore will focus on Great Books and history books, and promote homeschooling and self-education, with a wonderful study room set up for my children, who will diligently complete their lessons while I sort and stack.
More realistically, my house will be covered in boxes of various books that are listed online and I will be trekking back and forth to the post office in order to subsidize my own personal book habit and it will be a pain in the butt for everyone.

So I've begun rounding up books, organizing spreadsheets, and taking note of upcoming book sales. It could be ages before I do anything with them, but it certainly isn't the most expensive hobby I've ever had. And it's the first crazy idea I've had in years that the husband has thrown his support behind. In a real way, not that "Sounds nice, dear" way!

Now, if only I could convince him to read Don Quixote with me...

Audience participation time!
If you were to open a bookstore, what would you name it?

In a way, I think Pearls of... Something is an awesome bookstore name. Business-wise, self-deprecation probably isn't the best route.
Dazzle me with your creativity.

Amazon FAIL!

2009-03-31T14:29:00.003-04:00

I do not enjoy bitching about Amazon. Their service is so important to my family. Christmas shopping, curriculum purchasing, product reviews, redirecting to other sellers... I don't know what I'd do without Amazon.

They used to be great. I've had school books arrive literally overnight with free super saver shipping. Now that they've introduced their fancy shmancy "prime" membership, it seems non-prime shoppers don't matter.

I made the mistake of ordering a book that takes "2-3 weeks to ship", and combining it with an in-stock book. Since I have no immediate plans for them, I figured the wait wasn't a big deal. Well, on the last day of the shipping window, I got a notice that the first book still wasn't in stock. I was given the option to cancel or keep the order open. No matter which option I chose, the in-stock book was moved to "shipping soon".

Soon? It was supposed to ship by March 31st. Now it's bumped to "April 2-April 4"! I ordered the in-stock book on March 7th!!!

Stupid morons.

And it gets better. My $1.50 number chart arrived. Via UPS, not USPS like 2 others. Get a load of this:

A 22x18x11.5 box this time.
Filled with plastic, so as not to break my poster.
With a very familiar 19x13x4 box inside.
Also filled with plastic.
For my very fragile piece of $1.50 paper.

I need to find a new way to shop!

Two posts in one day

2009-03-27T15:27:00.002-04:00

When Lorrie asks to have her stuff stolen, I have to comply. I mean, what if she asks to have her pottery stolen one day, and I haven't been an obedient servant before then? I would feel unworthy of stealing her loot after previously ignoring her.

So I have stolen her meme.

1. Three items you would take to a desert island and why. Don't be a loser and say "a boat" either, ok?
A solar powered laptop. So somebody better come up with one of those, quick.
My Keurig, with a limitless supply of K-cups.
Sunblock. Sometimes you just have to be reasonable.

2. If you could only save three people from zombies who they would be?
The husband. But mostly out of spite. He already has a thing for slutty lady zombies.
Ellen Degeneres. The world just wouldn't be right with Zombie Ellen.
My grandma. She doesn't handle change in routine very well.

And yes, I left off my kids on purpose. None of that Sophie's Choice crap. I'm not picking favorites.

3. If you had to smell like a food, which three foods would you prefer?
Malibu Rum. I don't care that it's not really a food.
Thin Mints.
Strawberries.

4. Three books you wish you'd never read?
No such thing.
Although I *did start to think there was a rabid dog in my closet when I read Cujo. I could have done without that.

5. Three biggest lies your parents told you?
There must have been something, but I'm drawing a blank.

6. Three favorite band names
Wait- the names of my 3 favorite bands, or my favorite names that bands are called? I'm guessing names that bands are called, since that's more amusing.

Barenaked Ladies, Save Ferris, Smashing Pumpkins

7. Three things that make you go "ew"?
Cats drinking out of the toilet bowl.
Toddlers eating out of the garbage can.
The need to feed pets and children.

8. What are your three biggest addictions?
Caffeine
Nicotine
Buying books

9. Chicken and waffles are ever so tasty; three food combos so wrong they're right?
Tuna salad and Tostidos
Liverwurst and provolone on potato rolls
Cheerios and peanut butter

10. Three bloggers you would make out with?
The husband, because it's the law
Lorrie, because she makes cool mugs
The Pioneer Woman. Not because I think she's all that, but because I'd like her to stop by and cook something for me.

I must be color blind

2009-03-27T13:44:00.004-04:00

I was all excited when Amazon announced its decision to "go green". I like "green". The husband drives a Prius. I use phosphate-free laundry detergent. I don't go anywhere without reusable grocery bags. My sad looking gardens are always organic (not because they're organic- because I lack a green thumb).

Unfortunately, I think Amazon has failed to read any of the books on conservation that it lists on its site.

I order books pretty often. It's cheaper than library fines, and the nearest book store is a 30 mile drive each way. Plus, Susan Wise Bauer keeps telling me I should write in my books.

Apparently, Amazon's idea of "green" is to take several books and shrink wrap them in plastic.

Sure, one could argue that this is a good idea in case a package is left on someone's doorstep in a downpour, but I'm not buying it. I've yet to meet a mail carrier who doesn't carry plastic bags for bad weather. Growing up, my mailman used to put our packages in our grill. :-) And there are always those handy dandy orange notices.

But the shrink wrap is small (non) peanuts compared to my latest order.

M is still struggling with number and letter reversals, so I ordered cute wall charts to put up. For $1.99 each, it was a great way to earn free shipping on the meat of my order (Laurie Carlson's Green Thumbs: A Kid's Activity Guide to Indoor and Outdoor Gardening, and School Specialty Publishing's The Complete Book of Time and Money). Plus, they were buy 3 get 1 free, so I picked out 4.

First, I get notification that the coins chart will ship separately. My $1.99 purchase ($1.50 after the B3G1 deal) will get its own box, its own shipping fee (on Amazon's tab), and a solo journey to my home.

Then I get notice that the manuscript chart will ship separately.

2 hours later, I get another notice that the months of the year chart will be shipped separately, as well.

And the next day, the 4th goes out the same.

$6, 4 boxes, 4 trips.
Not to mention the plastic-wrapped books still waiting to be shipped!
But it gets better.

I don't have home mail delivery. Our development has group boxes. They also have jumbo boxes, where fairly large packages can be left. Today, I open my mailbox and find a key to one of the big mailboxes. And this is what I find.

A 19x13x14 box...

For a single $1.99 kiddie poster.

But that's not all I found.
It appears that one of the other identically sized posters had to be shipped in a tube that can't fit into the mailbox that fit the 19x13x4 box with plenty of room to spare.

Since there is no "missing you" at a group mailbox, this means I will have to drive 8 miles each way to pick up the damn poster.

But first, I'm waiting to see what comes tomorrow. No sense making 3 trips to the PO if the rest happen to be in ginormous mail tubes!

It's not easy being green.

I'm a Taurus

2009-03-25T19:30:00.002-04:00

When someone tells me I can't do something, I say "Says you," and redouble my efforts.

This is probably why I have 4 kids, 2 big dogs, 2 cats, live in the boonies, use cloth diapers, own a Prius, clip coupons, know a ton about the autism spectrum and mummies, sowed my own front lawn, bought a Wet Jet, put my "laundry room" in a closet, and refuse to wear a coat unless it's below 25 degrees (and even then, reluctantly). Don't tell me I can't do something, because I will have to prove you wrong, and it isn't always fun.

What's even worse is when I don't want to do something and people tell me I have to.

My mother used to tell me I had to eat broccoli. I would stuff it under the tablecloth. When that didn't work, I'd swallow it and then throw up. I didn't have to eat broccoli.

I didn't give in when I was 7, so why should I give in at 31?
Because if I don't do this thing, a whole bunch of people are going to hate me.

Which is dumb, because it's really none of a whole bunch of peoples' problem. But they will think that I am a mean, selfish, cold-hearted bitch. And that's pretty big, considering these people have known me forever and haven't completely written me off yet.

So really, it's a matter of deciding whether to suck it up in order to let these people keep pretending I give a hoot, or doing right by myself and my immediate family, and then having everyone else tell me how wrong I am and thinking nasty things about me forever.

There are very few things I have to do. Apparently, one of those things is making this decision.

People suck.

What were you born to do?

2009-03-24T11:31:00.002-04:00

My Facebook quiz tells me I was born to teach. When I was little, I did dream of being a teacher. Then I realized I hated school. And, eventually, I became a homeschool parent. So, Facebook was right. I think a lot rested on my answer to the questions about being in control, but whatever.

H was probably not born to go into contract law.
Today, she managed to get her sister to write and sign the following statement:

"I wil nevr liy.
-M"

This, apparently, is supposed to bring peace and harmony to their shared bedroom. I'm betting it's going to lead to a long, drawn out trial, where M will get off on a technicality.

Why I won't be having 16 children

2009-03-15T13:05:00.004-04:00

I get a real kick out of my kids. Sometimes I figure if I multiplied the kids, I'd multiply the fun. And then the husband and I convince ourselves to do something fun for the kids, and I'm quickly brought back to reality.

Kid-fun is hard. Especially when you're outnumbered. And you live in the middle of nowhere.

My sister gave us tickets to the Ringling Bros. circus for Christmas. J's been to several circuses, and H has been to one, but was too young to remember. So, not only did it count as a big first for most of the kids, but it was also the first time the husband and I have taken all 4 to any sort of arena activity.

Yesterday's 2-hour show was a 9-hour event for our family. And that's if you don't count getting everyone (and everything) ready to go. 3 baths, 3 showers, 1 french braid, 2 ponytails (on one head), 1 diaper bag with 2 changes of clothes, diapers and wipes, and a lunch/snack bag of sandwiches, granola bars, yogurt drinks, water bottles, sippy cup, bananas and grapes take a little time.

In order to get to the Meadowlands Arena/Brendan Byrne Arena/Continental Airline Arena/Izod Center (located behind Giants Stadium, which is located... behind Giants Stadium) in time for 2:00 bathroom trips and the 3:00 show, we left the house at 11:30 (ish).

The kids thought parking garage was so cool, I wasn't sure the circus could top it. Seriously, they were so excited it was embarrassing. I'm truly considering going out of my way to give them more experience with parking options. Maybe we'll go play with parking meters this week.

After the long drive, I discovered that C has grown way too tall for a front seat diaper change. When I write my parenting book (ha!) I will list that as one of the first signs it's time to start potty training.
There will also be a chapter on searching your children before leaving the house. There is no need for a dozen Littlest Pet Shop Pets at the circus.

Getting into the arena was interesting. 2 parents have 4 hands, so it should be easy. But when you factor in hip shifts, pants hikes, finger repositioning, sweaty palms, and hundreds of other little people milling about, I did find myself repeatedly looking down to make sure I grabbed the correct little person's hand. Forget losing one of my own. All I could think was that I'd be on the news, accused of trying to abduct someone else's fidgety little kid. Or worse, some parent would knowingly exchange a brattier kid for one of mine.

We had 2nd level seats. It never occurred to me to find out if any of my kids might be afraid of heights. I guess it's best that I didn't know I would need to carry my 5yo up and down the stairs in advance. Or that she would need 3 bathroom trips (and H would need 2).

Never mind that C would soak through his jeans within 30 minutes of his awkward diaper change.

Watching the kids watching the show was awesome. C loved the "Dumbos" and the clowns jumping through "kuckles, kares and kangles" (circles, squares and triangles). M now wants to ride elephants for a living and H may be headed for clown college. J loved the chance to clap in time with thousands of other people. He hasn't been able to pick a favorite part yet.

Demanding courteous behavior from children while everyone around them is being rude is exhausting. The fact that the grown woman behind you keeps putting her feet on the top of your seat does not make it okay for you keep poking the woman in front of you with the tip of your wizard hat. The fact that there's a 4yo climbing his large mother, screaming in your mother's ear does not make it okay to stare and loudly ask "What's the matter with him?"

I'm beginning to understand why so many people think I'm a hard ass. They don't believe in respecting other people (or at least pretending to respect other people, which is actually enough for me.)

Also, it is not okay to leave your cotton candy bag, empty cups, or popcorn box on the floor, no matter how many other people do. Just because we spent a good chunk of your college savings on circus food does not mean we purchased the right to be slobs.

Children, this does not mean that Mommy was a bad person when she dumped the leftover sno cones in the grass on the way to the car. Ice melts and colored high-fructose corn syrup can't do any damage to the dead bird I did a great job of keeping you from seeing even after you noticed all of the loose feathers lying around. On the other hand, it could have been a hazard to your health if it had melted into my minivan seats.

All of Ringling Bros. souvenirs (and food) are outrageously priced. That said, I would have paid a pretty penny for one of those whips that the tiger trainer had, just to assist in herding my cats to the car. 2 parents leaving the circus with 4 children no longer have 4 free hands! I'm sure I looked like Mother of the Year, literally using my feet on the behinds of my highly distracted brood in order to keep them in relatively close proximity to each other. I swear, I wasn't kicking them so much as guiding them, but still.

Oh, and for all you people who think going out with a cloth diapered child must be such a pita- at least I'm never tempted to leave a dirty diaper under my car in a parking garage. Talk about gross! Do people not realize they don't just magically disappear under there?

Once everyone was buckled in the car, the husband and I looked at each other and laughed. Like always, we somehow managed to survive taking the kids outside of our little bubble. Little did we know we'd have to stop twice on the way home for even more bathroom breaks, or that we'd work so hard to cool drive-thru food for C, only to have him stuff it all in his carseat, or that H would laugh uncontrollably for most of the ride, or that we'd make the stupid decision to let the children eat sushi in the back seat so I will be left forever sniffing the car for any signs of rotting fish. But we did survive.

And I bet we could do it with 16 children. But I would never want to.

The US Army will protect us from zombies

2009-03-13T09:03:00.003-04:00

The husband and I are in our early 30's.

Some of our peers were probably out drinking in dive bars last night.
Some surely spent their evening hob knobbing with CEOs and politicians.

The husband was busy playing with zombies at the Best Buy in Stroudsburg.

After 9 years together, I think I'm finally realizing that we will never be a "normal" family.

Differences between children

2009-03-06T14:08:00.002-05:00

Somehow, I managed to get C down for a nap with very little struggle today. It helped that the big kids were outside, pretending to do some spring clean up.

My children are, of course, all exceptional. But it never stops surprising me how different they are from one another.

J (10) and M (5) walk in and notice that C's stuffed Spongebob is lying on the floor.
J- "Aw, looks like Bob didn't make it down for a nap."
M- "Nobody likes a cranky sponge."

H (6) walks in a moment later and exclaims "Hey look! Spongebob passed out on the floor!"

Progress

2009-02-24T14:29:00.003-05:00

Pronunciation:; \ˈprä-grəs, -ˌgres, US also & British usually ˈprō-ˌgres\
Function:: noun
Etymology:: Middle English, from Anglo-French progrés, from Latin progressus advance, from progredi to go forth, from pro- forward + gradi to go — more at pro-, grade
Date:: 15th century

1 a (1): a royal journey marked by pomp and pageant (2): a state procession b: a tour or circuit made by an official (as a judge) c: an expedition, journey, or march through a region2: a forward or onward movement (as to an objective or to a goal) : advance3: gradual betterment ; especially : the progressive development of humankind

— in progress

: going on : occurring

Leave it to Merriam-Webster Online to find a way to describe this
as progress.

Maybe I should be

2009-02-23T13:57:00.004-05:00

A little paranoia can be a good thing, right?

I've always known my kids were intent on sucking the life out of me through their collective whining, destruction and general mischievous ways. It didn't take them long to discover the power of teamwork. And now they're planning to build an army to finally finish me off. Really!

The girls have been testing their engineering skills lately. A couple of weeks ago, they rounded up a tape measure, some paper towel tubes, and a bunch of grapes and created a grape delivery system. It's a simple small scale model right now, but they have high hopes for a V2.0 that will carry grapes from the refrigerator to their bedroom (not that they're supposed to have food in their bedroom, but who cares about those little details, right?) instead of from the coffee table to a bowl on the floor. The important part is that it "worked."

After that success, they decided to design a voice activated system that would only allow the two of them entry to their room and sound an alarm when intruders made an attempt to get it. When it became clear that a major component of this project consisted of piling toys and furniture in front of their door, I had to shut them down for code violations, but I'm pretty sure the wheels are still turning inside their heads.

And now there's the army. They've decided to build robot brothers and sisters. So far, it's only a plan on paper, but I know how fast and sneaky these kids can be. I managed to sneak the specs from their files.
M is left handed (and 5!), so we still have lots of work to do on her mirror writing, but notice how that's mostly on the left side, following the direction of the arrows. Genius!

Also note the "armpets". I take this to mean they intend to knock me out with stanky robots. I need to get to the recycling center and dump all of the metal that's lying around this house, quick!

Overheard

2009-02-20T09:10:00.002-05:00

So I'm upstairs trying to mainline coffee while watching the news and checking my email, and I catch this snippet from the maniacs below:

J (10)- "She's a good mom."
H (6)- mumbling something I can't make out
J- "No, she's a really good mom. She's just... well, she's.... she's just...."
H- "Paranoid."

Interesting.
While I do have quite a few areas of paranoia and my fair share of neurosis, I really don't consider myself a restrictive parent.

My kids aren't allowed in our (backwoods, small looped, minimally traveled) street, but they're free to roam the thick woods on our property, climb trees, play in rock pits, and jump in the (netted) trampoline unsupervised.
They can't cook on the stove, but they use the microwave and toaster regularly.
They watch cable tv and use the internet and play video games.
They get plenty of junk food.
I've even been feeding them non-organic eggs!
They're allowed to play with toy guns (which I tried to avoid until a few years ago).
I let them eat cold pizza.
The girls wear skirts and tank tops around the house in February.
They sleep with cats on their pillows.
They do cartwheels in the house.
They own Heelys.
I play music with foul language and suggestive lyrics around them.

Most of the time, I think I'm a pretty damn lenient parent. I know plenty of people who think I'm nuts (for various reasons).
So where is my 6yo getting the idea that I'm paranoid?

I wonder if she's been playing Garbage's "I Think I'm Paranoid" on Rock Band. I bet that's something I should know.

My armpits hurt

2009-02-18T14:56:00.002-05:00

I finally bit the bullet and ordered a couple of Jillian Michael's workout DVDs.

Every Tuesday night, I sit in bed with my mini Ben and Jerry's or candy or chips or granola bar or whatever is in the fridge and watch Jillian kick fat people's asses. If she can get them to loose half their body weight in a few months, surely she can thin my thighs, tighten my tush, and boost my boobs!

30 Day Shred and No More Trouble Zones arrived over the weekend. I previewed 30 Day Shred and was quick to decide that the 5lb weights hiding under my bed were better left under my bed. The husband was kind enough to go out and buy me some wussy 2 pounders to start with.

Tuesday morning, the kids and I pushed the couch back, pulled the coffee table out of the living room, filled our water glasses, and got ready for our beating. We got through the warm up without anyone arm-circling anyone else in the face. We managed to make it through the first circuit of strength-cardio-abs before J announced he had school work to do. In the second circuit, I bonked C in the head with my 2lb weights which, apparently, aren't so wussy when they bonk a person in the head. At some point during cardio, M collapsed on the couch and H disappeared. H reappeared during the third circuit, after a wardrobe change. She came out dressed in yoga pants and a vest, which I guess was to serve as a sports bra. That kid can really improvise!

I chose 30 Day Shred because it's only about 25 minutes, which means I can fit in a workout and shower without too much difficulty. Plus, I prefer quick death to a long, drawn out ordeal. Even though I was told it's a tough one, I really wasn't sure how effective a 25 minute workout could be. After all, I used to spend at least 10 hours a week in the gym with little result. But this is definitely an ass kicker.

My calves are sore. My thighs are sore. My shoulders are sore. My butt is sore. My back is sore. My arms are sore. And yes, even my armpits are sore.

I only have one complaint, and that's on the abs workout. I'm just not feeling it. And, of course, that's my biggest trouble zone. I'll have to take a look at No More Trouble Zones and see if that's any better. But not today. Just the thought of getting up to put the DVD in is painful.

My poor baby

2009-02-06T12:47:00.007-05:00

C is turning into a real person, and I'm not sure how I feel about it.

He's no longer my little blob. The days of treating him like a detachable body part are long gone. He has a mind of his own, and he uses it to manipulate those around him. Once his speech catches up with his brain, we're all doomed.

This morning, he coaxed his big brother into a half hour of tag. "Mah, A-ih! Mah!" (Which J translated for me- "Come on, J!, Come on!") And then he conned a big sister into handing over crayons, with one of his few crystal clear words- "Mine!"

So he joined us at the table this morning, coloring his favorite shapes.
There's "aht", "urkle", "tah", "kah", and "ah-i-gah", AKA heart, circle, star, square, and triangle.

Yes, the kid needs a hair cut. Desperately. But I'm terrified that a hair cut will make him look like a little boy, instead of my little baby.

He keeps trying to show me that he's no baby
but I'm just not ready to see it.

Especially when I tell him he has a dirty nose

and he acts as though that's the most hysterical thing in the world.
Okay, a close second to fake burps.

But maybe it is time I start to accept that he's growing up.

The guilt that comes with accidentally stabbing your baby in the face with a pen is just to much to handle.
Even if he does take it like a big boy.

Dear H

2009-02-02T21:27:00.002-05:00

This afternoon, as you sat across the table from me, nearing tears, twirling your hair, getting frustrated over your misplaced pencil, I so desperately wanted to help you.

Instead, I sat and watched you get closer and closer to your breaking point.

You have your father's face, your aunt's voice, and your own unique personality. But for the 30 seconds it took you to realize that your pencil was right there in your hand, I sat back and enjoyed the glimpse of myself in you.

Welcome to my world, kiddo.

The roof, the roof...

2009-01-30T09:48:00.004-05:00

... the roof couldn't possibly be on fire. It's covered in ice. There's this lovely phenomenon called "ice damning" going on. I'm exercising artistic license with the 'n'.

Ice has crawled UP my roof and under the shingles. As it melts, it's seeping into my house- up my vaulted ceiling, down my wall, and through my wood window casings.

But, hey, the husband does water damage for a living. All should be fine, right? Mm hm. And the shoemaker's kids have shoes.

Actually, as of right now, the husband's hands are tied. There's no point in doing the interior work until the roof is taken care of. And the roof can't be taken care of until the ice is gone, which the insurance company wants done "naturally". Tuesday's forecast- snow and rain. Lovely.

Here's the wall:Here's what was behind the walls on Wednesday:
And here is the length of the wall on Thursday:

I'm trying to look on the bright side. Really.
I'll finally be able to get rid of the textured ceiling. I found the person who built the beautiful wood casings on some of our other windows, so we can replace these three to match. We can better insulate the ceiling and the wall.
But, OMG, how am I going to get through this with 4 kids in our itty bitty house?! That's our main living area right there.

The husband and I are already at each other's throats. He can't understand why I insist on having every single detail explained to me. I can't cope with him being so nonchalant about the whole thing. He's spent two days on the phone with various people. I've spent two days trying to clean and pack everything away for the repairs.

Is it too early to start looking forward to 2010?

Gender roles

2009-01-25T14:43:00.003-05:00

I'm really not a fan of gender roles. My sons have/have had baby dolls, and my daughters love trucks. They all pretend to cook. Their specialty is mud pies. Still, there are plenty of times when the girls seem "all girl" and the boys seem "all boy". And that's okay, as long as they're happy doing whatever it is they're doing and it doesn't involve destroying my house.

Me? I've been a working mother. Now I'm not. The husband has been the sole income provider for... holy cow, about 7 years now. I am the housewife. The stay at home mom. The family manager. Just please don't be like the census man who insisted I was a "domestic engineer". If I could kick someone's teeth out through the phone, I would have right there.

So, the husband and I have sort of settled into fairly stereotypical gender roles. Not intentionally. We're just doing what works best in our house.

There are exceptions. I've spackled walls, dug up my entire front yard by hand, and I enjoy checking the air in my tires. The husband changes diapers when he's home, washes the occassional dish, and isn't afraid to go to the grocery store (with a detailed list).

But exceptions can cause trouble. When you don't stick to concrete rules, you're bound to have a few things that each person assumes the other is responsible for.

When a toilet clogs on a Tuesday afternoon, it is logical to assume that is my responsibility. And I am capable of handling it. When a toilet clogs on a Saturday evening, there are two capable adults available. Who should fix it? My girly side assumes it should be the man.

When dishes are dirtied while I'm at an all day Saturday meeting, it's logical to assume that they're the husband's responsibility. And he (usually) does them. When dishes are dirtied on a Sunday, who should do them? Dh's boy side assumes it should be the woman.

And this is why our weekends suck. We've spent 9 years navigating enormous issues of serious consequence, but we still can't sort out our down time. As a big fan of counseling, I already know that the key is communication, but I feel like such a dork suggesting we discuss who's in charge of spilled milk. But I'm not about to cry over it. Instead, I'll spend another hour glaring at the recycling pile and pretending he'll follow my lead when I take the kitchen trash out.

Because, without a little bit of passive-aggresiveness, household chores would be extremely boring.

Big mouths

2009-01-19T13:34:00.003-05:00

H and M were born to fulfill my mother's curse. She wished I'd have kids just like me, but I think she made sure the cosmos upped the ante.

My daughters have always been just like me- but at least half a dozen years ahead of the game. Sometimes it's like living with very short teenagers.

But they do have their moments. Moments that crack me up, and moments that stop me in my tracks. And the best ones are the completely age-appropriate ones!

I'm terrible at remembering to record these moments for posterity (and future humiliation), but it's something I really want to work on. So here are a few of H's from the past couple of days.

"I hear a banjo. Who in the world plays the banjo these days?"

Coming into the house after I had been cooking: "Why do I taste hamburger air?"

After harping on our dog for 20 minutes about every single little thing he was doing:
Me- "Why must you YELL at that dog?!"
H- "So he can hear me."

When asked who will be our President tomorrow:
"Rock Obama!"

Rock on, H!

Did I say that?

2009-01-16T09:26:00.003-05:00

As boring as my daily life may be, I've always jumped into everything I've done with both feet and no regrets. I have the junk piles, pet hair, book shelves and marriage certificate to prove it.

Once I decide to do something, I do it. Whether it's a short term project or a lifelong commitment, I rarely question my decisions. I think it's because I've always felt complete control over the outcome.
If my kids become dumb adults, it's because I screwed up. If the car I insisted on purchasing breaks down, it's because I didn't nag the husband hard enough to take it to the mechanic. If I pay full price for frozen waffles, I'm a moron.

I know I can avoid or fix the pitfalls of my choices. Usually.

When I think about my regrets in life, I don't come up with things I've done, but I do come up with plenty of things that I've said. My mouth and my hands don't always keep pace with my brain. With words being as powerful as they are, that can be messy.

I don't read through my previous blog posts because I'll spend weeks fixating on the worst parts- even if I were to delete them. I'll still know that people read them and that I can't wipe their brains clean. Instead, I just try to keep writing for myself and figure people are reading because they really want to, not because they're laughing at me. I'm still in control.

Recently, I relinquished control over some words. At the time, it sounded like a great idea. I jumped in. It felt good.
But now I'm freaking out. What if those words are received the same way my many foot-in-mouth moments have been? What if they're so transparent that people are able to see what a novice I am? Or worse, what if the actual message is disputed- and disputed well?

Nope, I won't start having regrets already. I still own my thoughts and my words. I can't control what others think of them. If I did, what would be the point of sharing them, anyway?

Maybe I'm not quite as much of a control freak as I thought I was.

Speaking of words, H just told me she's sweating her ass off.
No, I'm definitely not a complete control freak!

We hear you lived through 2008

2009-01-14T10:02:00.002-05:00

My family was one of the few lucky metro area families to come through 9/11/01 whole, and I'm very grateful for that fact.

Sometimes the husband is still a bit haunted, wondering whether his favorite WTC maintenance people or security guards were spared. Sometimes he dwells on the fact that he was working in Tower 1 on 9/11/00. But, even though it was a scary time, our little circle was pretty much left alone on that awful day.

The husband is no firefighter, police officer, or EMT. He didn't go rushing to try to save lives. He sat at home with me, watching the news, trying to shield 3-year-old J from the scariest of the details, trying to find a way to be excited about bringing a new baby into the drastically changed world (I'm guessing most of my fellow 9/11/01 positive hpt takers were feeling the same way.)

Life did eventually begin to get back to normal. The Towers were far from the only damage in the city. Surrounding buildings were full of rubble, dust, and a stench like no other, and somebody had to do something about that. Somebody like the husband.

Because the husband spent so much time decontaminating buildings, he was entered into The World Trade Center Health Registry database. Every so often, we receive letters and surveys so he can report back that he's alive and well. He wasn't a first responder, and he went in with proper equipment, so this isn't something that concerns us very much. Each time a new envelope arrives, I hand it over to the husband with a little "Just checking to see if you're dead!" quip. We have a really bad sense of humor in our house. What can I say? We saved sealed, radiated mail as souvenirs when anthrax letters originated in our post office. Everyone handles tragedy in their own way.

The only mailing that *I find disturbing is the annual Happy New Year card.
"Best Wishes... for a wonderful year! From the World Trade Center Health Registry Staff"

I don't know. I can deal with the surveys and the occasional phone calls. But there's just something about this "greeting card" that just makes me want to scream. They may as well write "Hope ya don't die in 2009!" Why pussy foot around what you really mean?

I can't decide whether this makes me under-sensitive or overly sensitive. All I can say is that I'm disturbed.

To the World Trade Center Health Registry Staff- Hope y'all live through '09, too! :-)

We did it!

2009-01-13T14:39:00.000-05:00

We started our mummy project! And I have proof!
See it here.

Chip couldn't chop chocolate chips 'cause Chip chipped his chocolate chip chopper.

2009-01-11T18:41:00.005-05:00

I'm feeling guilty about pestering Judy to get back to blogging while I'm still slacking. I'm finally starting to get back into the swing of normal life, and Lorrie has provided me with a good jumping point to dive back into my blogs. As I continue to tiptoe back into routines, I'm hoping life will start providing me with more blog fodder. Hopefully, not TOO much!

Swinging, jumping, diving, tiptoeing... Two weeks ago, the though of doing any of those things would have been enough to make me cry out in pain. Now the thought just exhausts me, lol.

So I'm going to play the Alphabet Super Game. Lorrie blogged 10 of her favorite things that start with the letter J, and she's assigned me the letter C. Suffice to say, "cesarean" is not on my list. I tip my hat to those of you who've done the real deal!

1. I love my cocoon. While I may be a bit stir crazy right now, I'm still a genuine homebody, and I like to be left alone. I live in the boonies, in a gated community, on a quiet street, on a large lot, with tons of trees to hide my little house.
Even within my home, my bedroom is set apart from the rest of the house, the only real room on the second floor. Here is where I have my laptop, my TiVo, my favorite blankets, my own bathroom, and even a private balcony, where I can see all the way out to the Delaware Water Gap, but nobody can see me.
If grocery delivery service was available out here, I would be the ultimate hermit.
When this is your backyard, how can you not?

2. I love candles. I think it's a genetic thing. My mom and aunts love candles, too. I've branched out from wick candles though, and I've become obsessed with tarts. My favorite wahm tart maker has closed up shop, and I'm none too pleased. Something about wanting more time with her 4 kids or some such crap. The nerve.
I now get my tart fixes through The Tart Shack and Cat Lady Candles. Great prices, great products. If you happen to place an order, tell 'em TooOfEach sent ya.

3. I love camping. I've been doing it all my life. Tent, cabin, trailer, I've experienced everything from outhouses to full indoor plumbing. The only thing you won't catch me doing is digging my own "bathroom". Everyone has their limits.
I grew up in a campground. From Memorial Day to Labor Day (with occasional weekends in the off season), we pretty much lived on a working farm/family campground. I was building campfires at age 8 and sneaking out into the woods to make out with boys at 13.
No, my kids have not been introduced to camping!
Still, aside from the making out part, I really wish I could give my kids that kind of lifestyle. My sisters and I had a freedom that just can't be given in "the real world". Here, I don't really want The Village coming near my kids. There, The Village was a warm, loving, caring, wonderful family, and they still have a big piece of my heart.
PAC, represent!

4. I love children. Specifically, MY children. OPK (other people's kids) kind of freak me out. Sometimes it's because OPK are monsters in their own right, but it's usually because I don't know how to deal with them. I mean, I know when it's appropriate to tell my maniacs to shut up. I hear that some parents don't like to have that said to their children. I'm comfortable dropping the occasional F-bomb. Some are opposed to that. And I call kids out on their crappy behavior. That created quite a few issues when we lived in a large apartment complex.
I've been called a hard ass, which I find really amusing when I look at my dds' bedroom, where the walls are covered in crayon and the carpet is stained beyond repair. My sticking points are clearly WAY different from other parents'.
I don't have the needed skills (or bank account) to be another Michelle Duggar, but I truly love having a house full of loud, rambunctious, enthusiastic, curious maniacs. We've made no official decisions for the future, but it is entirely possible that another maniac may wander in somehow, someday, from somewhere. At this point, all I ask is that my uterus not be involved for at least the next few years, if ever.

5. I love my Keruig. Okay, that doesn't start with C, but the coffee it makes does. I've really only been a coffee drinker since becoming a parent, and I've become more of an enthusiast with the birth of each child. Number 4 drove me to my Keruig, and the ability to make the perfect cup each and every time in mere seconds. Green Mountain Dark Magic is my life saver.

6. I love cats, even my crazy ones. Sure, I love dogs, too. But my cats require almost no effort on my part. A little food, a little water, a little litter scooping, and they're good to go. And I have kids to feed them and the husband to scoop poo. So I just sit back and enjoy their antics. They score extra points for being unable to bark when the UPS man comes, or when the kids get even a little crazy. And they shed much less than two 90lb dogs!

7. I love loose change. Yeah, that's a weird one. But I recently discovered that the coin machine in one of our grocery stores can give you Amazon credits. I just think that's the neatest thing! Totally guilt-free shopping! Do not kill my buzz with mention of counting fees.

8. I love coupons. I've missed 2 weeks of The Grocery Game, but I've kept up on my coupon clipping. Now that I've learned how to use them most effictively, I'm kind of an addict. Not only do I buy 2-3 papers each week, but my in-laws hook me up with the inserts from about a dozen more. Am I crazy? Sure. But my grocery receipts can kick your grocery receipts' asses.

9. I love to have my cake and eat it, too. Just hold the icing, please. I'm not into sugary-sweet, but a moist, plain cake... Mmm. I guarentee I could eat an entire chocolate cake sans gloppy sugar in one sitting. Not that I've ever tried to do so. I spend all my time trying NOT to. This is where those little microwave cakes come in handy.

10. I love my Cricut Expression. I also love the deal I got on it on Black Friday. I've only been able to use it a few times since bringing it home, but it is the coolest thing ever. I used it to make a couple of cards at Christmas, calendar stuff for M, who really doesn't want to memorize the months of the year, cute little boxes to organize all of our flash cards, and I'm currently planning vinyl wall stickers for the girls' room and one of my big, blank walls. One of these days, I'll actually get back to scrapbooking.

There are lots of C-named people in my life, but I didn't think it would be fair to name them. My favorites know who they are. And I do happen to consider MYSELF a pretty great C-person! :-)

Care to try this little exercise? Let me know, and I'll assign you a letter.

Homeschool blog/giveaway!

2009-01-06T14:29:00.002-05:00

I really thought all this down time would lead to lots of writing, but I guess I've been too cranky to focus. I bet I'll be writing up a storm once I have other things I should be doing instead!

I did finally manage to get my homeschool blog up, even if it isn't completely linked or fully decorated yet, but maybe a free magazine will make up for that? You be the judge.

The Relatively Well-Trained Minds

I am one in a million... or thereabout

2009-01-04T16:53:00.002-05:00

Warning- this post may contain TMI. But it's TMI I think everyone should hear.

After C was born, I got the Mirena IUD, and loved it from day 1. I catch pregnancy more often than colds, so a 99.9% efficacy rate with no effort was a great thing for me. Until I found myself in the .1%. On December 5th, I had a positive home pregnancy test.

The husband and I were in severe shock, without a clue as to how to react. We had recently talked about the idea of having another maniac in the future- the much-more-than-9-month future.

I immediately went through bunches of tests and had the IUD removed, but still couldn't wrap my mind around the situation. Before I was able to, I was miscarrying. Or so we thought. More tests, more needles.

My hcg levels kept rising. Dec. 17th had me in the hospital, diagnosed with an ectopic pregnancy. Treatment was methotrexate, a chemo drug. And it's a giant needle!

Those 2 weeks were hell, but we felt we were reaching the light at the end of the tunnel in time to celebrate the holidays. My family came up from Georgia on the 23rd and it was a whirlwind of red and green to the 26th. The 27th was our day of rest, and we headed out to visit the inlaws on the 28th.

That afternoon, as we sat down to eat, I started to feel "off" and left the table for the bathroom, where I nearly passed out before lying on the floor in an instant pool of sweat. Within minutes, I was having my very first ambulance ride!

Despite having the doctor call ahead, I waited around for a few hours for more tests and needles. Long story short (and details fuzzy), I was told that everything seemed to be fine. I stayed in the ER until 3am and in a recovery room until 11am being "observed" before heading home feeling great and starving for real food!

I took it easy on Tues, Dec. 30th, while the husband went to gather the maniac's from Grandma's house. He was on his way home when I found myself in my own bathroom, feeling much like I had on Sunday. He scooped me up and hauled me out to our regular hospital.

I almost considered not going. It had been a big hullaballo over nothing the last time, right? But I did, just in case. A good decision, considering I was whisked off for emergency surgery where my fallopian tube was removed, along with a liter of blood from my abdomen.

I spent New Year's Eve in a morphine fog. I spent New Year's Day vomiting. I spent Jan. 2nd willing my body to keep water down. And I spent Jan. 3rd begging to get home.

I did manage to come home yesterday, thank goodness. J came home with us so I won't be alone when the husband has to leave the house. The littles are still at Grandma's and I miss them terribly. I'm sore as all get out, but I'm finally eating like a real person and I've managed to get somewhat comfortable in bed with my laptop. I'm headed into the annoying stage, where I'm all snippy and bored. Most importantly, this nightmare is almost behind us.

In the end, I'm still a fan of IUDs. I won't be getting another one now that I know how much lightning loves me. I will continue to play the lottery, though!
I want to share this story because I know that many women experience the pleasure of doing away with their periods with the Mirena. If you are one of those people, or you know one of those people, please be aware of the importance of stocking up on home pregnancy tests and using them monthly, just to be certain. Despite discovering my pregnancy and its circumstance early, I experienced complications with NO warning signs. In fact, all of the markers were positive. I hate to think that others might go much longer without intervention because they're 99.9% sure they couldn't be pregnant.

There will be more than enough women in the .1 percentile. I wish I could spare them all from being even rarer freaks like me!

Here I am!

2009-01-03T15:07:00.002-05:00

Ya know how I said that December was basically the month from hell this year? (If I didn't, just pretend I did.) Well, tack some more on to that. I just got home AGAIN from yet ANOTHER hospital. After a week of almost no solid food AND having stuff REMOVED from my body, I am 14lbs heavier than I was going in, just to add insult to injury.

I'm wiped out, mentally and physically, but I do plan to share the whole story once I'm up to it. In the meantime, thank you to everyone who has been keeping me and my family in their thoughts. Big (but slow and gentle) hugs to you all!

Aaannd CUT! That's a wrap.

2008-12-27T13:35:00.002-05:00

I have officially come out the other side of the holiday alive and well. I have been filled with enough joy, love, and sugar to last me 11.5 months. My kids have enough crap to keep them from asking for anything until their birthdays (which are conveniently clustered in the warm months of the year). I have good coffee, good books, good craft supplies, and a husband who is on vacation until the new year. Hopefully, I won't go nuts before he goes back to work. Distance DOES make the heart grow fonder, really.

I had so many little stories I thought about sharing, but my brain is complete mush in this post-frenzy period. Let's just say that H will be coached to NOT quote The Family Guy at the next family gathering. Apparently, she likes to stray from the Mom-approved script. And allowing yourself to be baited into a family (metaphorical) pissing contest is no more fun when you win than it is when you lose. That was a disappointing lesson for me to learn. As was discovering that C seems to have learned hotel behavior from watching VH1's Behind The Music while we're asleep.

I'll probably continue to neglect my blog for the next few days. I put a lot on hold this month, then rushed to get Christmas in order, and now I really need to focus on catching up on everything I brushed aside. My plan is to ring in the new year bright eyed and bushy tailed and without dog hair in the corners of the stairs.

I'm also hoping to start over with my homeschooling blog, and I plan to unveil it with a giveaway on January 1st. I'd really like to make the giveaway about 10lbs of leftover candy, but I doubt there would be many takers. If there are, feel free to let me know. The kids will never notice.

I hope everyone had a wonderful holiday and you're all recuperating nicely.

It's all good

2008-12-25T10:26:00.002-05:00

Second cup of coffee. Half a dozen electronic toys beeping, blipping and blooping. Trash and candy everywhere. And an overwhelming feeling of peace, love and happiness. Who says it needs to make sense?

Deep breaths

2008-12-22T18:26:00.002-05:00

I am a procrastinator and a semi-perfectionist. It is December 22nd. The next 4 days will be the most chaotic of the year, and my house is a wreck. It is time to stop and count to 10 before I turn into Lois Griffin.

"You all think Christmas just happens. You think all this goodwill just falls from the freakin' sky, WELL IT DOESN'T! IT FALLS FROM MY HOLLY JOLLY BUTT! So you can cook your own damn turkey, wrap your own damn presents, and hey, while you're at it YOU CAN ALL RIDE A ONE HORSE OPEN SLEIGH TO HELL!"

I'm cheaping out on this post

2008-12-19T15:44:00.002-05:00

Lorrie says I need to post something, so I'm stealing her holiday survey. It's been a rough couple of weeks, and I just haven't had anything amusing to say. Hopefully, this will buy me some time.

WRAPPING PAPER OR GIFT BAGS?
Both. I don't mind the time it takes to wrap rectangles, but I'm not about to spend hours trying to figure out the corners of a hexagon or attempting to make a pretty arrangement around something shaped like a snowman. If it can't get in a box, it's gonna go in a gift bag.

REAL TREE OR ARTIFICIAL? ANGEL OR STAR ON TOP?
Real. And we usually cut it down ourselves. There have been a few years, including this one, when we've purchased a pre-cut tree. Trekking through the woods with toddlers and saws just isn't as much fun as my parents made it seem.

I grew up with a star. The husband grew up with an angel. The husband benefits greatly from keeping me happy. We have a star.

EGGNOG-YES OR NO?
Yes. But now I have to share.
We mostly stick to kid-friendly eggnog. My kids were never really big fans. All of a sudden they are, and I'm lucky if I get the last few drops. My hips seem to be somewhat grateful.

HARDEST PERSON TO BUY FOR?
My mother-in-law. We are very different people

DO YOU HAVE A NATIVITY SCENE?
Nope. I don't even have anywhere to put one.

FAVORITE CHRISTMAS MOVIE?
The Family Man. Okay, maybe that doesn't count as a "real" Christmas movie, but I love it. I love all Christmas movies. John Denver and the Muppets probably top the list, followed closely by Emmit Otter's Jug Band Christmas. And The Grinch. And Charlie Brown. And Little Bill. And It's A Wonderful Life. And White Christmas. And A Christmas Story. And all of the rest.

WHAT DO YOU WANT FOR CHRISTMAS?
A nap that lasts until 2009.

Now I need to go decide who gets to punch the bulla down.

Math in pajamas

2008-12-11T12:16:00.007-05:00

My kids work best when they're fresh. Not fresh and clean, just fresh out of bed. Even as an otherwise non-morning person, I teach best in the morning, too. We try to get as much school work in before lunch as possible, even if that means working with bad breath and bed head.

We don't even require matching jammies!

We're brushing up on telling time. It's not an easy skill to master when the only analog clock in your home is from Our Name Is Mud.

And you have to work extra hard when there's so much "help" being offered.

I was not a fan of collaborative learning until we started homeschooling. I was so wrapped up in individualized education, I became blind to the benefits of learning from others.

Now there's a very limited amount of one-on-one teaching in our house. We're big on group effort.

And we're very big on time chips!

Our ancient kitchen table has the scars to prove it.

It is now 1:07.

I hope Bambi is dead

2008-12-11T08:51:00.002-05:00

I have never been a fan of hunting. Not that I'm an actual fan now, but I've gone from thinking it's a mean, despicable, unnecessary hobby to almost being willing to take up arms in effort to thin the herds of filthy, tick carrying, poop dropping rats with hooves.

But I can't even manage to secure scissors in my home. There's no way I could trust a gun safe with my maniacs around. Plus, hunting season starts on Cyber Monday, and I'm not missing that. And I hate the cold. And neon orange is not my color. And I doubt I could bring myself to touch a dead deer.

So, as I sat here surfing the internet, two loud shots rang out. I don't usually hear the hunters. Hunting not permitted in our development, and they usually go pretty deep into the game lands we border.

We do, however, have a lot of wack jobs around here. The SWAT team was behind my house a few weeks ago. We've had a string of burglaries. There was a suicide a few months ago. The convenience store down the road (conveniently located next to a gun shop) was robbed (again) last week. And I know where the drug dealers live. Some of them, at least.

Welcome to the country! To think, I used to dream about living in NYC.

So, as I sit here contemplating the gun shots I heard a few minutes ago, I hope Bambi is dead. But now I'll be tracking the news sites to be sure. I miss NJ.

I spy

2008-12-08T10:57:00.013-05:00

I'm trying to find some time to play with my new camera. As it turns out, my brain has been leaking for the past decade, and I've lost a good deal of my photography knowledge. I have cute kids and automatic settings, so it isn't like I'm at great risk for awful pictures, but I feel like I should at least TRY to remember what's what.

But I hate owner's manuals. So now I'm just playing.

And then there's the shot that illustrates my life perfectly.

My house has some lovely architectural features. I love the beam. I love the trapezoid windows. But they're a pita to clean. Which is why I rarely clean them. So rarely, that I haven't been on a ladder to clean them since... well, since long before this wall sticky was thrown in the air.
It adds character, don't you think?

Ho, ho, hum

2008-12-08T09:29:00.004-05:00

I guess Christmas is coming, huh? I haven't exactly been in the holiday spirit.

I was mostly phoning in Turkey Day before I burned the bejeezus out of my fingers, causing me to eat with one hand while the other was submerged in a bowl of cool water. The husband had a lot of food to cut that night. (At least I got out of doing dishes!)

Black Friday didn't exactly excite me this year, especially since shopping carts are difficult to push one-handed.

There's way too much extended family drama going on, and I even have my own little drama for an extra kick in the pants.

Getting out the Christmas decorations and starting all of the baking just seems like so much work. There's too little room and too much clutter. Too much to do and too little time. Too much preparation and too short a celebration.

This morning, I listened to Nat King Cole's The Christmas Song.

Thank you, Racie, for giving me that twinge. I needed it. I think I'll bake a batch of cookies today.

A conversation in my daughters' room

2008-12-07T14:29:00.003-05:00

Overheard by the husband-

M: "It smells like farts in here. Did you..."

H: "No! It wasn't me."

M: "Maybe it was Daddy."

H: "Daddy doesn't fart."

M: "Ever?!"

H: "Not as long as I've been alive."

I'm cheap (not easy) and I'm a dork

2008-12-05T20:38:00.003-05:00

I just started a blog for my grocery shopping trips. Meanwhile, I have done nothing with my homeschooling blog. Sad, sad priorities!

I'm Cheap, Not Easy

Spam, spam, spam, spam. Lovely spam! Wonderful spam!

2008-12-04T08:32:00.004-05:00

The holidays bring out the bargain hunter in me.

Black Friday has been my favoritest holiday for quite a few years. The husband and I used to dump the maniacs with the in-laws on T-Day evening and hit the stores running by 5am. We were an awesome team. We had the playbook memorized.

There was the Divide and Conquer, which could be used in a single store, or a wider zone, multi-store method. There was the Full Court Press, where the offense would grab the merchandise while the defense maneuvered the shopping cart to clear the path. And there was the Out of Bounds play, where someone would wait on line with the cart while the other grabbed a few more items.

And then we'd celebrate our victory over breakfast. Followed by a nap.

Once our home team really out-numbered the in-laws, our tradition had to change. We started tag teaming Black Friday. The husband would hit the midnight sales or get crazy enough to hit the insane lines for the 4am sales, and I would head out on my own once he came home.

Sure, we did most of it for the sport, but we really did snatch up great deals. This wasn't insanity for insanity's sake.

This year, BF really didn't have much to offer us. There was no thirst for victory to quench. And it was kind of sad.

I headed out to Walmart around 8, unable to fully let go of the tradition. I wandered the aisles with a heavy heart, picking up a few odds and ends in attempt to sooth myself. I did get a few good deals on some small gifts. The only steal of the day wound up being my own Christmas wish. I snagged a Cricut Expression (retail $499.99, often on sale for $249-299) for $199. Which has actually made me feel guilty for the past week.

And then I went on to take advantage of the Nikon sale and bought myself a new camera, which has made me feel even more guilty.

I had much more luck with Cyber Monday, something I hadn't really participated in, since I've always blown my budget 3 days earlier. I won't go into detail, but the packages have started to roll in. I averaged about 50% savings, with free shipping on nearly everything. Not too shabby.

So I'm trying to rationalize my splurges. The whims I indulged probably come close to matching the savings I got. And these are things I've been wanting for a very long time, but didn't feel comfortable paying retail. And I definitely didn't pay retail! They're things I know I'll use to their full value. They're things that will make me happy, once I get passed the guilt.

But the spam thing...

You know all of the grocery shopping spam that goes around? Usually something like this:
"The Free Groceries Loophole!
Being a mom of 4 I know how important savings are. I am also a cashier at a major supermarket. When I noticed the same 4 people always coming in and getting overflowing carts of products for practically nothing, I knew I had to find out how they are doing it. One day I decided I would ask them when they are on my line. They all told me they are members at XYZ dot com, which they told me is a savings clearinghouse for just about anything you can imagine. It didn't take me long to visit their site and sign up for the sampler kit. When the package arrived about a week after I signed up, I knew I had something special in front of me. The people I spoke with weren't kidding, groceries I knew were at huge discounts but just about everything else to from perfumes to fine jewelry and tools. I hope this will help others too!"

I hate spam. I hate Spam, and I hate spam. I haven't indulged in Spam since I discovered what Spam was, and I haven't indulged in spam since I discovered what spam was. But I did learn to make my mom's Spam casserole with real ham, and I learned to look for legitimate grocery store savings. The following is NOT spam. I'm pretty sure it's impossible to spam your own blog.

I did try a grocery site about 2 years ago. It was 100% legit, but I had commitment issues. It required things like... remembering to buy the Sunday paper. I was expected to organize my coupons. And one of the big keys was sticking to lists. When I realized they weren't giving me a shopping fairy to take care of all of that, I quit.

But now I'm in full bargain mode. I've gotten a taste of what it feels like to buy myself fun stuff, and I want to squeeze more money out of my budget to be able to do things like that. Or send 4 kids to college. Or keep up with my hair maintenance appointments so I don't ever have to spend 4 hours in a salon again, trying to fix myself. So, once again, I signed up at http://www.thegrocerygame.com/.

Please believe me- this is not spam!

I just went grocery/drug store shopping based on The Grocery Game for the second week. The first week, I saved around 30%. This week, cross my heart, I saved 50% on my bills. On stuff we actually use. Including meats and produce. Including 7 boxes of cereal, which will be gone in less than 2 weeks, I'm sure. Including batteries and curly light bulbs. And I didn't buy any Spam.

I'll admit, I did buy hot dogs. At least they weren't in cans.

Now here's some quasi-spam. The Grocery Game does offer a 4-week trial for $1. If I refer people, I can get free weeks on my membership. Instead of posting my referral info and saying "Do this now!" I'm just going to tell anyone who might want to ask me about it to email me at pearlsofsomething@gmail.com.

I'm not posting this because I'm desperate to save about $10 over a 12-week period. If I were that desperate, I'd return my camera or sell a maniac. I'm posting it because I really did save a good chunk of cash and want to share the info with anyone who's willing to look like a loony tune in order to do the same.

Today, I think I may take a few pictures and maybe even work on a few scrapbook pages. Tonight, I might start opening boxes and wrapping gifts. In the long run, I've probably broken even. How can I let myself feel guilty about that? After all, I have at least 7 years before Yale tuition bills start rolling in!

It's here! It's here!

2008-12-02T07:45:00.004-05:00

The Traveling Bloggy Box of Goodness is here!

Actually, it's been here for a couple of days. Between turkey clean-up, Black Friday, grocery shopping, cleaning my bedroom like a good girl, hunting down the owner of a stray dog, Cyber Monday and... what else... oh, taking care of 4 maniacs, I got a bit sidetracked.

The TBBG is Kristin's baby; a nice way to spread cheer among our blog friends. Our mailing list includes around a dozen people. I say 'around' b/c I guess it depends on which list you read. I like to read the one that actually HAS MY NAME ON IT! :-P

So far, the box has traveled from Kristin to Tiffany to me via Karen, who apparently has oodles of self-control. I do not have much self-control. Which is why the box itself is now completely mangled. I think I need to start carrying scissors in my car.

My goodies included an adorable scarecrow, Girl Scout cookies, a specially brewed brewski, Lewis Carroll poems, and Life of Pi. All really wonderful treats for me.

The scarecrow is just about ready to be put away until next year's display. I think there are 3 or 4 Thin Mints left. I haven't opened the beer yet, but only b/c I want a nice, quiet, uninterrupted evening to enjoy it to its fullest. Hello- it has a picture of chocolate cake and raspberries on it. It deserves a nice evening.

I'm looking forward to reading Life of Pi. I desperately needed something non-technical to read. And I'm a huge Lewis Carroll fan. I've also been planning to have the kids work on a bit of poetry recitation, and I think we'll try a few from here.

How about

"Speak roughly to your little boy,

And beat him when he sneezes:

He only does it to annoy,

Because he knows it teases."

Now it's my turn to spread the love to Karen. Everything is just about ready to go. I have one item to finish up for her and I need to come up with something amusing to write in the Bloggy journal before shipping back out to NY.

Thank you, Tiffany, for some great picks. Thanks to Kristin for a fun idea, even if you tried to cut me out of it (:-P, again) and a big thanks to Karen for being kind enough to squeeze me back into the circle. I hope you find it was worth it. :-)

2 things-

I do plan to update with links to everyone's blogs and box posts. I just know that if I try to do it right now, I'll never get this posted!

Also, if anyone can explain to me how to move my pictures around, I'd really appreciate it! I'm feeling quite stupid right now.

He drives me crazy

2008-11-24T07:59:00.005-05:00

Apparently, Blogger has changed the way pictures work, and now I'm very confused.

I was in a good, giddy mood one day last week. I was feeling thankful and a bit flirty. So I texted the husband.

"If we weren't married, I would totally want to marry you."

That was before remembering what it's like to be in a car with him.

We took C to the mall so he could meet "Bob-bob" yesterday, before picking J up from his weekend with his father. We had a nice time at the mall, but the 30 minutes there, another 15 to get to J, and 45 minutes back home left me wondering how we've managed to avoid divorce.

Don't get me wrong. He probably wants to kill me just about as much as I'd like to kill him when we're stuck in a vehicle together. As annoying as he can be, I'm sure my broken mute button drives him crazy. I try real hard to bite my tongue as much as possible, but it doesn't usually help.

First, the husband seems to have a strange "Man Controls Radio" mentality. I used to think he simply subscribed to the same theory my mother always did: S/he who drives chooses the tunes. Nope. Any time I've driven his car, he's still hogged the dial. So I figured it was a "My Car, My Choice" thing. Nope. When we get into my car, regardless of who is driving, he gathers up a bunch of cd's, all of his iPod equipment, and his arm basically camps out around all of the buttons.

I've pretty much learned to suck it up, at least in his car. If he's chosen decent tunes in mine, I can keep my mouth shut. I only fuss when he tries to play garbage on MY radio. Since we were in his car yesterday, I spent a good 20 minutes listening to a very staticky broadcast of some sporting event, and I didn't make a peep until the static turned into an extremely high pitched squeek that nearly burst my ear drums.

Then there's the climate control. The husband has, like, -6% body fat. No insulation what so ever. While I hate the cold, I also hate winter coats. So, I'm sitting there in a t-shirt and hoodie, while he's bundled up in a huge coat, and I'm sweating my butt off while he's shivering. This is one of those annoyances I hate dealing with. I certainly don't want to boil to death, but I also don't want to force the husband to freeze his cajones off. So I wait until I think I might pass out before telling him to shut the damn heat off or face being cajones-less anyway.

There's also the speed limit thing. He isn't terrible on main roads, just on the mile it takes to get to them. Our development's speed limit is 25, and security will totally bang you for breaking it. And I happen to be on a committee dedicated to rule enforcement- even the ones I disagree with. I finally told him that, if he gets a ticket, I get to go have a chat with his coworkers and embarass HIM!

Then there's the actual driving. Which is where I drive him nuts.

When he didn't get into the turn lane for the mall, I shouted and he quickly moved over before telling me he had intended to use the second entrance. When we were leaving, he wasn't getting into the left turn lane, so I shouted and he quickly moved over before telling me he intended to take the back road.

By the time I pointed out yet another turn, I'm sure he wanted to throw me out of the car. Meanwhile, I was secretly hoping he'd get on the highway in the wrong direction just so I could feel justified.

I managed to keep my mouth shut when he didn't pass a minivan doing 20 in a 55, and when I thought he was awfully close to parking in a ditch at the convenience store, but I think the hand over my mouth gave me away.

Cars just aren't marriage-friendly. I could be snowed in with my husband and be happy. We could be trapped in an elevator or stranded on an island and I'd be just fine. Just don't put me in a damn car with him!

I've calmed down a bit since last night. I'm pretty confident that, if we weren't married, I would totally marry this guy. Providing we don't drive to the ceremony together.

Secular does not mean anti, and I'm giving something away

2008-11-19T19:38:00.005-05:00

For anyone who may not already know, I do not wear a denim jumper. In fact, I do not wear jumpers of any sort. Nor do my children wear jumpers, homemade, coordinating, or otherwise. Not that there's anything wrong with jumpers. We just don't fit that particular homeschool stereotype.

We aren't religious homeschoolers, either. That stereotype is more difficult to shuck. Which is why I am unable to resist anything that even hints at the word 'secular.' It isn't always easy to find homeschool materials without religious content so, when I see something that is, I grab on and refuse to let go. It could be a book on sewing secular denim jumpers, and I'd be all over it. I might even make some and wear them.

But 'secular' is like the ugly step-child word of homeschooling. Unfortunately, even some of the brightest homeschoolers read a negative connotation in the word. Which is a shame. When I see "Christian Homeschool XYZ," I don't take that to mean "Anti-Non-Christian Homeschool XYZ." I simply assume that this XYZ is presented from a Christian perspective. So far, I haven't been proven wrong.

When I discovered Secular Homeschooling Magazine, I think I may have literally done a little dance. As experienced an internet shopper as I am, I even fumbled for my credit card in all the excitement. I was a little smoother when I renewed my subscription this month. A little. I still dance when the new issue arrives.

SHM is not anti-religious. In fact, many of its readers are deeply religious. This is simply a magazine about homeschooling from a secular perspective.

For me, this is great. I have a magazine to read without stopping to wonder how much of a certain curriculum I might have to adapt, and I never find myself skipping articles that have no relevence. I realize that may not seem like such a big deal but, in case you haven't noticed, the economy is kinda sucky, and I'd like to get the full bang from my buck. I've cut back on all of the periodicals I haven't been using in full, which includes a few non-secular homeschool magazines that were decent when I wasn't concerned with price:value.

SHM got its start with a piece I would like to have tattooed on my forehead. Since my forehead isn't large enough (thank goodness), I may have to consider having it done on my back. But I'll only go through with it if Deborah flies me out to have Kat do it in the VIP room of LA Ink. And I still don't think it'll fit on my back, so I'll have to take each of the kids out as they turn 18 to pick up where my back leaves off. And that might require SHM coming up with a few more lines, since my 4 kids are all destined to be tall. We wouldn't want C to feel left out!

And here it is:

The Bitter Homeschooler's Wish List
By Deborah Markus, from Secular Homeschooling, Issue #1, Fall 2007

1 Please stop asking us if it's legal. If it is — and it is — it's insulting to imply that we're criminals. And if we were criminals, would we admit it?

2 Learn what the words "socialize" and "socialization" mean, and use the one you really mean instead of mixing them up the way you do now. Socializing means hanging out with other people for fun. Socialization means having acquired the skills necessary to do so successfully and pleasantly. If you're talking to me and my kids, that means that we do in fact go outside now and then to visit the other human beings on the planet, and you can safely assume that we've got a decent grasp of both concepts.

6 Please stop telling us horror stories about the homeschoolers you know, know of, or think you might know who ruined their lives by homeschooling. You're probably the same little bluebird of happiness whose hobby is running up to pregnant women and inducing premature labor by telling them every ghastly birth story you've ever heard. We all hate you, so please go away.

7 We don't look horrified and start quizzing your kids when we hear they're in public school. Please stop drilling our children like potential oil fields to see if we're doing what you consider an adequate job of homeschooling.

11 Please stop questioning my competency and demanding to see my credentials. I didn't have to complete a course in catering to successfully cook dinner for my family; I don't need a degree in teaching to educate my children. If spending at least twelve years in the kind of chew-it-up-and-spit-it-out educational facility we call public school left me with so little information in my memory banks that I can't teach the basics of an elementary education to my nearest and dearest, maybe there's a reason I'm so reluctant to send my child to school.

12 If my kid's only six and you ask me with a straight face how I can possibly teach him what he'd learn in school, please understand that you're calling me an idiot. Don't act shocked if I decide to respond in kind.

16 Don't ask my kid if she wouldn't rather go to school unless you don't mind if I ask your kid if he wouldn't rather stay home and get some sleep now and then.

18 If you can remember anything from chemistry or calculus class, you're allowed to ask how we'll teach these subjects to our kids. If you can't, thank you for the reassurance that we couldn't possibly do a worse job than your teachers did, and might even do a better one.

20 Stop saying that my kid is shy, outgoing, aggressive, anxious, quiet, boisterous, argumentative, pouty, fidgety, chatty, whiny, or loud because he's homeschooled. It's not fair that all the kids who go to school can be as annoying as they want to without being branded as representative of anything but childhood.

24 Stop talking about all the great childhood memories my kids won't get because they don't go to school, unless you want me to start asking about all the not-so-great childhood memories you have because you went to school.

25 Here's a thought: If you can't say something nice about homeschooling, shut up!

No, I am not teaching my children to count like that. I'm teaching you how to click that little blue link to read the piece in its entirety.

If you found that even slightly enjoyable, you need to go take advantage of the SHM sale here. Usually $7 a piece, issues 1-4 are currently being sold for $21/set.

In honor of SHM's sale, the husband's ability to bypass whatever glitch gmail was throwing at me earlier today, the rush I got from ordering 4 books from Amazon and only spending $5 (with free 2-day shipping!), and my genuine apreciation for all of Deborah's hard work, I am offering up a free copy of issue #5 to the first person who comes back and swears on a stack of notebooks that they've just place their order for 1-4.

And I'm not even going to cheap out and send you my used copy. That one doesn't leave my possession. I'm going to order a nice new one and have it shipped direct, cuz I hear that the shipping on those things is crazy!

But there's more. Maybe. We'll see.

Since this is not quite a 'real' homeschool blog, I can't expect many homeschool readers. And since I'm not a very traditional homeschooler, my potential homeschool audience is even smaller. I would love to hear from more minorities within our minority. If you know a few heathen homeschoolers, or simply homeschoolers who enjoy heathen homeschoolers, bring them by. Tell them to make themselves known. Convince me that there are enough of us to make it worth my while to offer up another free issue of SHM. Just warn them that I may sometimes use a 4-letter word or talk about my maniacs in a less than positive way. If they're cool with that, I'm cool with them.

For my invisible friends who find my homeschooling posts completely unrelatable, I will take zero offense if you now head over to a public school blog until I find something different to post about.
Rest assured, I get it!

Try this at home. Or don't. Whatever

2008-11-16T21:33:00.004-05:00

Right now, I would like to both hug and strangle my maniacs.

Well, not right now. They are sleeping, so the strangling thing isn't all that intense. And if I hug them, they'll likely wake up and we'll restart the whole want-to-strangle-them cycle, which is something I'd like to avoid until at least 6:30am tomorrow.

My kids rock, but they make me pay for it.

H has decided Mommy needs a spa vacation. A 5-day spa vacation. This morning, she offered me her Tooth Fairy dollar to finance the trip. The kind of moment a parent lives for, right?

I pay for these moments, dearly. The dollar was offered while I was doing 316 loads of laundry. Laundry made up of unworn clothes. Unworn clothes that became dirty when certain maniacs felt a need to bring a half-burned log into their room (from last week's fire), and then rummage through their closet to change into non-soot-covered clothes. Before thinking to wash their hands. Leaving them without non-soot-covered clothes.

My children are brilliant, yet so stupid. Wonderful, yet rotten. Most days, we break even. Think what you like. I consider that a success.

The chances of my little maniacs growing into big maniacs who hide burned up logs or old food under their marital bed are pretty darn slim. The chances of my little maniacs carrying their humor, adventurous spirits, generosity, open hearts and minds, and ability to work complicated electronics into adulthood are really good. Even if they kill me before then.

Read all the research and stats you want. Parenting is mostly a crap shoot. Great parents can produce messed up kids and crappy parents can produce amazing kids.

Like blogging. Judy sent me a link to the dos and don'ts of blogging. Feel free to read them, but it basically boils down to "Do what you want. It might work, or it might not." Like most of the choices parents make. So here is my own pointless list for parents.

Make sure you're married before having kids. Intact families produce healthier, smarter, better-behaved children.

Don't get married. Married couples are the only people at risk for divorce, and divorce negates the whole healthier, smarter, better-behaved thing.

Have a natural birth. Drugs are bad for babies.

Get the drugs. Traumatized mothers are bad for babies.

Have a large family. Cable stations will finance your lifestyle.

Have one child. You can finance your own lifestyle.

Be a working mother. Finance your lifestyle while promoting a good work ethic and proving that women can have a good chunk, if not all, of "it all."

Be a stay at home mother. Who's to say sweats and cartoons aren't a good chunk of "it all?"

Put your kids in public school. Or private school. Or homeschool them. No separate comments. They'll hate you, regardless.

Ban television. It is junk food for the mind.

Embrace television. It gives you 30 minutes to sneak away with the leftover chocolate cake before the kids can get to it.

Okay, I thought I had more than that, but I don't. I'm only 10 years into screwing up kids. Give me time.

Right now, I need to go to bed. I'm sure tomorrow will be another long day of hysterics- the good kind and the bad kind!

And that's... something

2008-11-14T09:40:00.004-05:00

I've been thinking about blog names recently, thanks to Miss Thystle. Which is nice, since she usually has me thinking about boobs and alcohol. Which makes me keep looking to be sure the husband isn't following her on Twitter. Because that's totally his kind of girl. Almost like I was, before I got boring. Which I will blame on him.

So, blog names. Why did I pick this one? During my first (and last) semester at The Real College I Went To, my nickname was Pearl. Thankfully, this was before Spongebob, who has a friend named Pearl. And she is a whale. I assume she's also adopted, since her father is a crab. Not that there's anything wrong with that.
But, when I was 18, I had 7 piercings in my ears, and wore (fake) pearl earrings in 5 of them. I don't know about other schools, but nicknames were all the rage at mine. My best friends were Mickey, Mallory, and Jules. Quentin Tarantino was also all the rage.
There are people in the world right now who have no idea what my real name is. They will forever think of me as "Pearl." Or possibly "That girl who never went to class."

When I started this blog, I didn't really have any specific intent. I mean, my life is pretty boring. In a good way, but boring. I have kids and pets and dirty dishes and I live in the middle of nowhere, where I see more deer than people on a daily basis.

There's often drama swirling around me, but it rarely involves me. The most exciting thing that's personally happened to me this week was being able to buy a barn for My Farm on Facebook.

I used to be full of drama, though. I was the girl standing up in the back of a Jeep Wrangler, holding on to the roll bar while going down the highway at 70mph. I was asked not to return to The Real College I Went To. I've also attended 2 community colleges, yet I have earned zero transferrable credits. I've lived in a cheap apartment in a bad neighborhood and spent my paychecks on shoes and cigarettes. I've also lived in a non-frat house, where very-frat parties were thrown. I danced in cages at a nightclub. After having a baby out of wedlock. I have had a pierced tongue. And I married a guy I knew for 8 months.

I knew drama.

Now I know how nice it is to NOT have drama... for the most part. Once in a while, it's still fun to poke a bear with a stick (metaphorically - I've happily avoided our actual neighborhood bear for over 3 years now) just to keep myself on my toes. But it's mostly laundry and teaching double digit addition for me these days. And it is good.

I do think that my past has made my present incredibly rewarding, and I love the perspective it has given me. I can't claim to have any pearls of wisdom, but there are certainly pearls of... something rolling around in my head. Not every day. Some days are just a bunch of cat pictures or rants about rats with hooves. And the days that produce pearls don't always translate well to print but, if I could invite you to sit in my head on those days, I promise you'd be blown away!

One of my oldest invisible friends (and by oldest, I mean known for the longest, though I will point out that I am younger than she) is one of those fancy-shmancy word people who went to college to learn more about word stuff. I am very jealous of her, because she has a blog name complete with a hook. Silver Linings always signs off with "And that's my silver lining for today."

How cool would it have been if I had thought to sign off with "And that's... something" for each of my posts?!?! But now I can't do that because it seems morally wrong. But I will want to from now until forever.

So I would like for you to start checking out Judy's silver linings, as long as you promise to remember that most of my posts are pure genius inside my head. And feel free to visit Miss Thystle for thoughts about boobs and booze, because you'll rarely find that here. Though, if I ever win one of her contests and empty a flask, I suppose it's possible I might share the picture of the french fry that dropped down my shirt during our Land Of Make Believe trip.

P.S. If you go to Miss Thystle and mention my name, I get an extra entry into her flask contest, which could bring you that much closer to my french fry picture. So do it.

Will the real puritans please stand up, please stand up

2008-11-13T07:42:00.001-05:00

So, Turkey Day is creeping up on us.

Since having children over the age of 4, I've had real issues with Thanksgiving. When the concept of celebrating Thanksgiving was my own private inner conflict, I didn't have to put my feelings into words and could be content to stuff myself with turkey and stuffing and consider the day a pre-race meal for the Black Friday marathon.

Once I had a kid in school and the feathered headbands and paper bag vests started coming home, I began struggling with my issues. The issues being so complicated and controversial (and completely contrary to what The Teachers, Gods and Goddesses of All Knowledge in my dear son's eyes, were teaching,) I swallowed my objections and figured that something like this should be tackled when the children were much more mature. Because you don't. contradict. teachers.

But hey - guess what? I am the teacher now!
And guess what else? I forgot to take the time to put my feelings into words!

Here's the thing. I have some Native American blood.
Now, I've never really identified with that part of my heritage. Not only is it a smaller piece of my ancestry, but the Swedish and Irish pieces have been kind enough to pass down recipes for comfort food and alcohol. There's no contest.
I'm an American mutt who simply doesn't know very much about the places and cultures of her ancestors. But I do know what I like to eat and drink. And I also know that my Native American blood is Iroquois, and the Iroquois weren't exactly friends of the Wampanoag themselves, so who am I to talk?

The husband's family, on the other hand, is a lot more Native American than I am. At least, they identify with that history more than I do, which is very nice. Especially the part that makes the husband all bronzed and ethnic-looking in the summer. Mm.
Plus, to the best of my knowledge, the tribes of my in-laws had no beef with the Native Americans of the Thanksgiving story.

And here comes the day when my one little, two little, three (and four) little Indians expect to celebrate a meal between corn farmers and the white people who were so grateful for their new friends. Uh huh.

Fortunately, my 10 year old is used to me. After watching an assigned video on the first Thanksgiving, he barely flinched when I casually told him it was a romanticized story about a meal between Chosen Ones and the savages where the Chosen Ones' butts were once again saved by the savages, who would be rewarded with casinos. And, fortunately, he found the concept intriguing, because he knows such a comment will be followed by required reading and discussion.

Which means I need to come up with some required reading and points of discussion. On a topic I've been happy to dance around for years. Which means I will be giving thanks for the internet this Turkey Day.

I managed to find a lesson plan with a forward by a Native American historian, who is also a public school teacher. Jackpot!

This plan includes adult level material (complete with bibliography) as well as child-friendly information that can be adapted to all levels. While H and M learn more about the Wampanoag and their wigwams, I'm looking forward to discussing the speech given on behalf of the Wampanoag on the 350th anniversary of the pilgrims' arrival with J.

Whether or not you're a homeschooler, if you're interested in exploring the history of Turkey Day with your children, or just curious yourself, the above link is very interesting. Complete with Native American prayer, history of corn, and corn husk craft project, it's not presented nearly as intense as the introduction I presented to my poor son, lol, but it does shed some light on a few of the issues most schools gloss over in their history lessons.

And now to decide between regular stuffing and sausage stuffing while scouring the leaked Black Friday ads...

It's a Pink kinda day

2008-11-12T14:38:00.001-05:00

A change I really need

2008-11-09T11:30:00.001-05:00

I have always been a disorganized pack rat. Even during the brief period of anal retentiveness when I did have a very clean home, I was still a boxer/stacker. Boxes of notes from high school and clothes I would never wear again were shoved in closets. Halloween costumes and out of season (and outgrown) clothes were in my toddler's dresser. And mail would be piled in a basket for months.

I've always had an irrational fear of getting rid of things, while lacking the motivation to put things away properly. Because maybe I would need last season's Children's Place catalog at a moment's notice or have a reason to spend $50 at LL Bean and get $10 off before the expiration date or completely forgetting I have the coupon. Or the fact that I'm cheap and like my Target jeans.

Paper is probably my greatest organizational weakness, and school papers have always been the worst. Trying to decide which pieces of my child's hard work to keep and which to deem literal garbage is something I've always hated to do. And homeschooling has made it even harder. Now I have to judge every. single. piece of paper anyone touches.

So, I procrastinate. The piles grow. Odds and ends get mixed in. Two months into homeschooling 3 children, I'm left with this:

The worst part is, my front door is just to the right of that table.

I did do something right. This table is (supposed to be) devoted to things used on a daily or nearly-daily basis. Everything else is kept in a separate spot that I'm not brave enough to show right now.

I've struggled with finding the motivation to straighten up areas that require a lot of effort to keep straightened up. In other words, just about the whole house. But this particular area was especially bad, and a fellow homeschooler recently inspired me to get my act together.

Jennifer at Halving It All has committed to halving all of her belongings and all of her bills in order to double what is really important in life - experiences.

I'm not sure I can really cut my "stuff" in half, but I'm determined to see how close I can get. The most appropriate place to start was with the homeschool table that greets everyone when they walk in the door.

I started out by dividing everything into "keep", "garbage/recycle", and "does not belong."

Everything to the left of the shelves, minus the printer, was to go somewhere else. Items to return to Target, Halloween costumes to be re-homed in dress up bins (once the current dress up clothes are culled), a chair that was in need of repair before the matching chair and table were disposed of and the remaining chair forgotten in the pile (behind the printer, turned upside down, with books and binders on top), table sleeves to be stored in the loft closet, and non-daily-use school items that hadn't been put away properly. Among other miscellaneous junk.

There was also a pile of papers to be disposed of when little eyes were not paying attention.

And everything else was to be filed in appropriate binders and arranged neatly.

While sorting and filing, I even took the time to wash the tablecloth, which had a spot of jelly on it from who knows when!

And now, our corner looks like this:

Okay, that's what it looked like on Friday. Today, it looks like that with the addition of a package for my sister and grocery bags to be returned to my car. And guess what. I'm going to go put that stuff in my car as soon as I get off of the computer!

I didn't truly get rid of half of the stuff from my table, but I'm very happy with what I've done, and it has motivated me to keep going. I tackled the top of my microwave and kitchen counter this morning. I've also begun going through my maternity clothes, now that C is 18 months old.

I feel like I'm on the right track. And that is a Big Deal!

My political secret

2008-11-04T06:49:00.001-05:00

I'm on pins and needles today.

The husband was up at an ungodly hour, waking the dogs, the baby and little ol' me. Usually, I'm able to go straight back to dreamland once he's gone, but not today. Today's too big and important. My tummy is too queasy, my mind is racing too quickly, and my heart is in my throat.

I can't imagine a single person in my life who would be surprised to discover that I'm an Obama supporter. I am. I want him to win. I need him to win. But many people in my life will probably be surprised to learn why.

I'm going to quit being a democrat.

Barack Obama is the change I need. The change I am hoping will bring me the confidence to take the leap and officially go rogue. Though, now I'm pissed that the word conjures up images of a red suit and glasses. (And that sentence conjures up images of Santa Clause with a machine gun in my head. Hm.)

Okay, maybe that's not entirely true. I suppose the incredible disappointment of a republican win could outrage me enough to take a flying leap to just about any other political affiliation. But flying leaps are much more reckless than simple leaps and I gave up on recklessness a few years ago.

The thing is, changing parties scares me. As an atheist (okay, agnostic by definition) I can only assume that the uncomfortable process is somewhat similar to seeking a new religious affiliation. That is, if there were 2 main religions with a smattering of other options that nobody pays attention to. Which I guess is kinda sorta the case around here when you boil it down. But, as an atheist (agnostic), I digress.

I don't fully identify with ANY party. The reality is, for the next four years, we are either going to have a Republican or Democrat in office. And the four years after that, and probably the four years after that, and possibly much, much longer. When I am forced to choose, I have to go democrat.

Honestly, I really am excited about this Democrat. Old white men have always kind of freaked me out, but that isn't a deciding point for me this time. Joe The Plumber and Joe Six-Pack and Joe Blow and Joe Shmoe can all kiss my butt. There's only one Joe I can truly relate to, and he hearts Obama, so it's all good.

My point is, I'm really not good with change, despite my incredible need for it right now. Obama is the stepping stone to change for me. The step I need, and the step in the direction I would like to see our country take. Because I was taught that America = freedom and, since becoming an inquisitive adult, I haven't felt the type of freedom I was taught to expect.

Someone very important to me once told me that a bit of aging and a bit of money would turn me into a Republican one day. At the time, the thought made me want to puke. A little farther down the line, I found myself wondering if it was true. Maybe it would have been when the Republican Party was a republican party.

I want smaller government, but neither candidate truly offers that. I want more personal freedom, but neither candidate truly offers that, either. Meanwhile, the points I disagree with when it comes to the "little" parties are specific issues. Issues that I am motivated to tackle within myself and within the parties. The basic principles of several fit very neatly into my heart and mind.

So I'm planning my plunge. I am preparing to do what I can to make sure people know that there are other options. An expanded version of "Just Vote", if you will. I have no desire to evangelize. I can't tell people what is right or wrong for them. But I can remind people that they need not be limited to the lesser of two evils. The lesser of THREE (or more) evils enables one to rank their priorities more accurately! ;-)

Right now, my guess is that intelligent voters are already aware that there is politics beyond the elephant and donkey. And I know that many already feel quite purple (or green, or whatever), but fear taking votes away from a "legitimate" candidate. What is a stay-at-home, homeschooling, free-thinking, passionate mom to do? Why, legitimize the existence of the minority and spur growth, of course!

Don't ask me exactly how I'm going to do that just yet. I'm still considering the points of the Libertarian Party, Green Party, and the multiple names of other libertarian groups. It may be hypocritical, but I'm ignoring the smaller splinter groups. Let's be real here. No matter how truly I believe I can change the world, my fabulosity does have its limits! Baby steps and baby changes, people.

I am realistic. I see a future where these parties are true contenders, but it is quite a way off, in my opinion. My intent is to make it my children's future. Because, dammit, they WILL NOT be the first generation to take a step back from their parents' success if I have anything to do with it.

I've got Barack's back for the next 8 years. He does give me hope. He does inspire me. And, no matter what happens tonight, he has proven that people are looking toward the horizon, searching for something big. And I can be a part of that.

In the meantime, I need to go attempt to concentrate on today's school lessons while fighting waves of nervous nausea. I also have to figure out how to address the conversation I had with my 5-year-old this morning:

M "Can we play computer games today?"
Me "Maybe after we get our work done. You know, today is a very exciting day."
M "Is it my gymnastics day?"
Me "No, that's tomorrow. Tonight, we find out who our new president will be!"
M- looking ticked "Oh. I thought it would be more exciting than that. I'll go brush my teeth."

Baby steps must start at home.

Overlapping seasons

2008-10-31T11:00:00.001-04:00

Just trying to find the beauty in this beastly weather.

The benefits of messing with Halloween

2008-10-31T10:39:00.001-04:00

Our Oct. 26th Halloween couldn't have been better. We had the perfect weather. We had well-behaved kids (even by our standards.) We had a great time.

Fast forward to Oct. 31st.

Our snow is still hanging around, though it's no longer close to 13".

Certain little people have been going on candy binges. Not from their own candy stash.

And J is sick. No connection to candy binges... as far as I can tell.

Yes, I feel a slight twinge of sadness/pity/guilt, but I'm definitely thrilled to call off another day of dressing up and candy begging.

They had a perfect Halloween, and they seem to be okay with the situation. That, or they realize that whining will put all Snickers bars at risk.

To the rest of you, have a safe and happy Halloween. Once we're done detoxing over here, we'll send best wishes for easy withdrawals in your homes.

I iz cold n lazi

2008-10-28T13:30:00.001-04:00

So I plai I haz cats, duz u?

1 Phil

1 Lil
Lil is a boy. Sorry, Lil.

My cats are good with little maniacs.

I don't know why.

If I were a cat, I would not like small people.

At least, not this small people.

But these boys keep on loving!

Lil is the lazy one.

Phil is the curious one.

But they're both smart enough to know when children are the most lovable.

I haz dog pets 2, but dey iz big and harder for kidz 2 ketch 4 fotoz. Nekst sno dai.

Snow day, snow what

2008-10-28T07:43:00.001-04:00

I do not like snow. Choosing to live up high in the Pocono Mountains probably wasn't my smartest decision, but I don't really think about the downsides in May, June, July, August or September.
The rest of the year, I tend to be a miserable fool.

My due date with C was April 17th of last year. That weekend, we had a big snow storm.

Last week, we had flurries. Today, we have a couple inches of white crap, and no clue as to when it will stop.

When J was still in "regular school", I was actually able to take some pleasure in snow days. They meant not having to bundle everyone up by 8am to drive to, then sit around waiting in, the bus stop parking lot. And we could do nothing but sit around, watching cartoons, drinking hot chocolate.

Our exact location earned us even more snow days than the general student body. Our district is extremely large, square mile wise, and we live at the highest elevation for the area. Two miles down the mountain, it can be raining while we are snowed in. In fact, the husband just headed out to work and reported back that the main roads are fine, while the road ours branches off from is littered with 7 stuck vehicles. We have had lots of hot chocolate since moving here!

Now I don't have a single child in "regular school." Our morning is just like every other morning. There's no real reason to avoid math, and no lack of reading material. We have no scheduled activities on Tuesdays. No legitimate reason to change our routine.

Technically, I have the power to declare school canceled today, but that seems like such a silly thing to do. Instead, I think we'll have a "delayed opening" and a few mugs of hot chocolate before getting down to business.

If the wind manages to calm down, the kids are going to LOVE recess.

And since I'm annoyed about not being able to get really good pictures while it's still snowing, I'm going to post this one to make myself smile.

Happy Halloween... kinda

2008-10-27T08:20:00.001-04:00

Our development doesn't allow Trick or Treating on Halloween. Well, unless Halloween falls on a Sunday. Or maybe even a Saturday. I guess I'll find out about the Saturday thing next year.

We don't have any sidewalks or street lights, and most of our roads are lined with drainage swales, AKA giant ditches. Since most of the kids around here don't get home from school until 4:30-ish, weekday ToTing would involve darkness.

The whole thing really annoyed me when we first moved here. Then I actually took 3 young children ToTing during on our first Fake Halloween and saw what a madhouse it is, even during the day.

Since most of the houses around here are spread far apart, the kids really only ToT along the main road. 2,000 or so families worth of children along a 2 mile stretch for 3 hours. It's CRAZY. I have come to appreciate the seemingly ridiculous policy.

For the past few years, we've also had a Trick or Trunk at the lake parking lot. As a person who grew up having hundreds of children coming to the door for candy, I like having this chance to be a part of the fun. Back at the house, I think we've had about 6 Trick or Treaters in 4 Halloweens.

Sadly, not many people are into the giving aspect of Halloween. Despite this being the best weather we've ever had for the event, we were one of about 10 cars providing candy for 300 kids in less than two hours. We all had a great time but, yeah, I am bitter. I've always seen Halloween as a "take a penny, leave a penny" kind of thing, ya know?

So, we did our thing. Nobody froze for a change. The kids went off and made sand castles once their stashes were confiscated. And then we went to the Halloween party.

Our social committee does such a great job with this party. I could have done with one or two fewer plays of The Cha Cha Slide, but I guess every DJ has his favorites. The kids noshed on "brains and eyeballs", "witches fingers", "pig snouts and whiskers" and the like, and managed to get to "dirt in a cup" and plenty of other creepy, sugary garbage before withdrawl kicked in.

By the time we were getting ready to leave, C was very unsteady on his feet. A few times, he simply rolled around on the floor, babbling incoherently, with a giant smile on his face. It was a Good Day.

But why in the world did I agree to take the kids to Grandma's for real Halloween?!