Ever Wonder?

So you know all about my days because I tell you.

Ever wonder about my nights?

Let me start by saying that I've heard that sleep is good. Great even.

I don't get a lot of it. I wish I did. I wish for more. The Mr. even went so far as to say that I covet sleep.

I think he's right.

I haven't gotten much sleep in the last 10 years.

No, it's not insomnia or leg cramps, no restless mind or anything like that. It's kids.

It all started when I was pregnant with my first son. During that time I had no morning sickness. At least none during the day. Every morning, around 2AM I would wake from a dead sleep, walk into the bathroom, vomit and go back to sleep.

At the time, we joked about how it was mommy training.

We were so right.

The Little Mr. was a very poor sleeper. He did not sleep well through the night until he was into grade school, had massive diet changes and lots of supplements. The Littlest Mr. was about the same. He was impossible to get to sleep.

Then came The Little Miss. She did not sleep through the night for the first 9 months she lived with us. In fact, if you didn't rush in when she cried, she would make herself vomit.

So not fun.

And let's not forget our dog. She often enjoys a moon light romp to sniff the air and make a little tinkle. I humor her because she's old and had lots of puppies. I figure either I can let her out or mop the floor in the morning. It seems easier to stagger to the door and let her out for two minutes. I'm not even sure I really wake up to do this.

Now, last night. A glimpse into my world after hours.

I managed to get to bed around 11. That was after our regular school day, complete with music lessons and Tae Kwon Do. Then we had dinner and bath time. The Mr. does the dishes for me and we share the bed time and bath time stuff. If we both go at it, we can get them all done in about an hour. I did all the regular stuff after the kids were asleep. Stuff like emptying the diaper pail. This time of year, it is filled with frozen cannon ball size diapers. It just means they don't squeeze in and you have to empty it out more often. I think they could be leathel those diaper cannon balls.

Around 10 when I'm thinking longingly of my bed and sleep, The Little Miss begins her nightly fussing. The Mr. took a turn rocking her. Tucking her in yet again, I'm back to the fantasy of sleep. This is where The Mr. tells me I covet sleep.

He's right, you know. I do.

Around 1AM, we started the fun. Little Miss is crying. I tuck her back in. 1:15, we do it again. 1:30, again. 1:45, vomit. Change the crib bedding, take the stuffies out, wipe down Missy, put on new pj's, tuck her back into bed. 2:AM, do a load of vomit coated laundry. 2:15 crawl back into bed. 2:20, Missy is crying and The Mr. finally wakes up. He takes her down stairs to rock after I was really adamant about my opinion of his sleeping habits. 2:30, more vomit. Now we move on to floor cleaning and more laundry.

3:AM, Little Miss and I are watching TV. She blinks wide awake every time I try to lay her down so I resolve to spend the time rocking and watching TV.

Did you know, that even with 800,000 channels on cable TV, between 2 and 5 AM most show only paid programming? I was not impressed. I did find a channel that shows Will & Grace somewhere in there though, and that was good. It's even funnier on 2 hours sleep.

Around 4:30 I got her to lay down in her bed. I crawled into my bed, told The Mr. he had to find his own breakfast this morning and if he made a single sound and woke a single child, there would be a death in the family.

At 5:30 our coffee pot beeps. Loudly. To let you know the coffe is ready, done, hot, waiting. It beeps multiple times. Enough to wake Missy.

Back to the rocking chair I go. This time I think I'll just see if I can get her asleep enough.

By 6:05 I had given up. I gave her a single cracker and a little bit of water.

Yup, saw it again.

So, now you know what a pretty average night around here looks like. We don't always have that much vomit, but we do often have at least one kid up and needing to be rebedded.

So, when I look real sleepy in the afternoon or late morning, I am. Or when you're talking to me and I look like I've temporarially left my body, have no earthly idea what you're talking about, you're right on. I have left. I don't have a clue. I asleep, standing before you with my eyes open.

Ah, the life of a mommy...

Are You A Homeschooler Or Do You Live Under A Rock?

It appears so.

Last night the Arctic freeze descended on Wisconsin. Again. It is winter.

It got cold. Real cold.

Yesterday afternoon they started to cancel things. Places closed up early. Everyone expected the big snow and the super cold temperatures.

Well, as it normally goes, most things got cancelled. The things we do, didn't. Our teens still came over for Bible study and fellowship. Our son still went to basketball practice. Both of these at 7PM.

At 10, I watched the news. I got word that Little Miss wouldn't have a visit. The weather was the reason. I watched the list of things that closed up early, watched the forecast for the next day and went to bed.

I got up this morning and had life rolling as usual.

What that means is I never put on the TV or the radio. It never even occurred to me that things could be cancelled today.

We went right along doing our math, grammar, phonics and reading. We had history and science and art.

While we were having our quiet reading time, the phone rang. And for a change, I answered it. It was one of my friends asking me if we were having school. Of course, I replied, why wouldn't we be? She just laughed, didn't you know all the schools were closed today?

Shut up! I said. Really? Why?

Um, it's cold. Really cold.

Yeah, so, it's winter in Wisconsin.

I think I've lived here too long. It just plain never crossed my mind that things would be closed today for coldness.

Now, in all fairness, the wind chills today made the temperature feel well below 0. Double digits below 0.

Didn't stop us.

Yes, I'm a die hard. We still went to piano lessons and Tae Kwon Do, too. They're right. It's cold out. Being bundled up and moving with a purpose is a necessary thing on a day like today, but cashing it all in because it's cold?

Nope, not us.

To Read

Ah, Walden. Again.

"To read well, that is, to read true books in a true spirit, is a noble exercise, and one that will task the reader more than any exercise which the customs of the day esteem. It requires a training such as the athletes underwent, the steady intention almost of the whole life to this object. Books must be read as deliberately and reservedly as they were written."

And just to emphasize what a spilt personality I can be, I am also reading book 5 of Harry Potter.

It is something to read both at the same time.

Paper Piles

I am not a good paper keeper.

Well, let me amend that a bit. See, I'm great at keeping papers. It's just that I keep them all. In big piles. All over the house.

It's not a great system. It leads to days like today. I have a nagging sort of feeling for a few days over a paper I just can't locate. And it doesn't end. And the paper doesn't turn up.

Then it begins. The rummaging. All sorts of piles get jostled as I try to look through them without really sorting them, purging them, actually moving them.

It doesn't often work. Usually I have to give in, just like I did this morning.

I could only find one picture form for basketball. Only one. I have two players. On two separate teams. It means I need two forms. Not one. Two.

It was a minimal sort out this morning. I only went through the small pile on the computer once, the piles in the kitchen cubby, twice before realizing they had a life of their own.

The kitchen space did actually have to be moved. Purged. To make it seem less traumatic, I spread the throw aways around to different trash cans in the house. It's too much to purge one pile and find it fills an entire trash can all by itself.

The form? It wasn't in the kitchen pile either.

I did find it though. It was tucked neatly into the mail slots.

Now, if I could just find the paper that said when The Littlest Mr. was the snack supplier...

Ask Me Again, No Really, Ask Me...

I have a lot of pet peeves about people, but some move to the top faster than others. One thing that makes me bonkers is that sort of fake interest people have when making small talk.

Let's face it, kids, my everyday life isn't all that average. I think it is, but that's because I live in it. Everyday. Well, and I don't like labels, so I try not to think of myself in terms of long label lists.

All you do though is meet someone and it's all over. I almost start rolling my eyes the minute the person starts talking. The first question is always, tell me about your kids--you know, because they're different colors. No, no one has ever said it out loud, but you can just see them thinking it. Then there is The Little Mr. He talks a mile a minute and always about something way beyond what he "should know" for his age. Who made up this stupid rule anyway? So the kid is smart, get over it, or don't ask him a question that will make yourself look dumb.

It always comes out that we are foster and home school parents. That's when it happens. The small talk questions. They're deep questions, real questions, but no one ever wants the answers. They really just want the opportunity to say, "I could never do that." or to make it out like what you do is something amazing.

What I do is not amazing. It's tough, exhausting and sometimes down right dirty. (The vomit virus hit our house this weekend. Not pretty.)

So today, I thought I'd answer one of my most hated questions.

Why or how do you do foster care?

It's simple really. I'm a Christian. God said love me above all else, then love your neighbor.

I choose to obey God.

To love God, I obey. To show God my love for Him, I love my neighbor.

To love my neighbor means to serve others in an unconditional way.

So, when I take in a foster child I am showing that child God's love through my love and service and that love and service is my obedience and love for God.

See. Simple.

Easy? Nope.

Worth it? You bet.

Quotes To Ponder

Just a couple of quotes for the weekend.

This first one rings along the line of something I've been thinking as of late. Home school is becoming something I don't like. Not the actual act of home school. That, with my own little brood, tucked deep within my home, I adore. It's the monster thing of industry that home school is fast becoming that I fear and loathe. I suppose that do a degree, this seeming boom in home school industry is a blessing. Curriculum and activities directed at home schoolers abound, but I think that is also a curse. It seems in many circles to be becoming all about what you buy and where you take class.

No thank you. I don't want home school that comes in a box and looks like every other cereal on the shelf. I want mine to look like the bounty of the produce section, raw, ripe and colorful. Seasonal and local.

Yup. I'm some kinda nut.

Here's the first quote, taken from the Daily Reckoning, and written by James Howard Kunstler in an essay titled Disarray.

"We'd better prepare psychologically to downscale all institutions, including government, schools and colleges, corporations, and hospitals. All the centralizing tendencies and gigantification of the past half-century will have to be reversed. Government will be starved for revenue and impotent at the higher scale. The centralized high schools all over the nation will prove to be our most frustrating mis-investment. We will probably have to replace them with some form of home-schooling that is allowed to aggregate into neighborhood units. A lot of colleges, public and private, will fail as higher ed ceases to be a "consumer"activity. Corporations scaled to operate globally are not going to make it. This includes probably all national chain "big box"operations. It will have to be replaced by small local and regional business. We'll have to reopen many of the small town hospitals that were shuttered in recent years, and open many new local clinic-style health-care operations as part of the greater reform of American medicine."

Hmm. Education--public and private akin to the big box stores. Hmm. What scares me is that home school seems to be following right along into the big box thing instead of doing what it was known for. Thinking for itself. Aren't we home educators supposed to be just a bit rebellious? Aren't we supposed to be just a bit wary of all that glitters and all that says baa while being led to a pen?

A second thought to ponder this weekend comes from my current reading, Walden by Thoreau.

"I would not subtract any thing from the praise that is due to philanthropy, but merely demand justice for all who by their lives and works are a blessing to mankind. I do not value chiefly a man's uprightness and benevolence, which are, as it were, his stem and leaves. Those plants of whose greenness withered we make herb tea for the sick, serve but a humble use, and are most employed by quacks. I want the flower and fruit of a man; that some fragrance be wafted over from him to me, and some ripeness flavor our intercourse. His goodness must not be a partial and transitory act, but a constant superfluity, which costs him nothing and of which he is unconscious. This is a charity that hides a multitude of sins. The philanthropist too often surrounds mankind with the remembrance of his own cast-off griefs as an atmosphere, and calls it sympathy. We should impart our courage and not our despair, our health and ease, and not our disease, and take care that this does not spread by contagion."

What could I possibly add to that?

1 Year and Counting

I know it's Friday, but I'm going to tell you about Wednesday.

That was the day it snowed in the boys room. I'm sure you're thinking they opened up the window and let the snow in, but it wouldn't be that simple around this house. No, you see, it snowed tissues. A whole jumbo size box of tissues. Each one pulled from it's box and tossed around the room. It did look remarkably like snow drifted up in the corners, piled on top of the laundry, fluttering down on to the beds. It took quite a bit to clean it all up too.

Wednesday was also an anniversary of sorts. One year ago on Wednesday The Little Miss joined our family. We are happy to have her, we love to love on her, but we're sad to know the reasons why she isn't with her own family. It is hard knowing that at just 18 months old, she has spent 12 of those months with us and not her birth family. It sometimes seems like great progress is being made on all fronts and she'll go home soon, but then more weeks go by with no change and you wonder.

It's a weird thing to be a part of. You love them, but with a space.

I thought it last night as I rocked baby girl to sleep, baby not mine asleep in my arms. Girl friend who calls me mommy, but still stands ready at the door on visit days to go see mommy. How jumbled this little one's mind must be.

And how will it work out for the other mommy? She has to "pass" an unwritten test proving mommy ability, but I've had her baby all this time. I've done the 24/7 work. She hasn't had the chance to do it. So how will she. It almost seems like a system that can't work. So I keep your child day and night, but then when someone, somewhere decides you're ready, we give you long stretches with a child you hardly know, your child and watch you to see if you will pass. I can't imagine how one could. How would you know which cry means I'm sad and which means I'm hungry if you're not the 24 hour mommy? Even though she's your flesh and blood, I'm the one who knows her looks and sighs.

So we've built a year of memories with her. Probably mostly our memories. Should she go home soon, she won't remember our faces or names. She won't remember meals at our house or family outings. Maybe she'll remember a smell or a taste. Maybe someday in her world it will be a feel of something that will make her pause and think, why is this so familiar? But maybe not.

It's just what we do right now.

Quilting Bee

I thought we were about to embark on a bird project, but I think we've gotten sidetracked.

The Littlest Mr.'s blankie has reached the crisis stage. It's a hand made quilt. I would say that it's beautiful, but right now, it's not. It really came to our house for the first Little Mr., but he never really took to it. He had a different blankie, which is also now in shreds. They really love them hard.

The blankie was beautiful in the beginning. It's a log cabin pattern of soothing country blue. Each block has a country pink square in the center. There is also white fabric. All of it has little flowers on it. The back was just plain muslin. Now, it is really in disrepair. I'm actually afraid to wash it at this point.

So today began the quest to make new blankets. Each Mr. wants one. We've spent the whole day going through the quilt book. Measuring the original blanket and making paper patterns. Plenty of crayons and graph paper have been sacrificed to this project already.

Next will be a trip to the basement. See that's where I keep all the fabric. Then we'll try hard to calculate the amount of fabric we need. I'm not so good at that. I know there are places to figure that out and formulas and such, but we kind of made our own pattern off the blankie we have. Besides, I really prefer to just go with the picture in my mind and see how it turns out.

I'm sure we'll make multiple trips to our local fabric store. I have to decide about sewing too. Should I do it by hand or by machine. I think machine could make it a fast project, but I think I would enjoy the by hand part.

Part of the glitch of this project or perhaps the excitement and learning part of this is that I've never actually made a quilt. I've never actually had too much success at sewing anything. I've made some clothing--pretty sorry to be sure--for myself, but it was maternity and I was bigger than a cow and really didn't care at the time. I just wanted comfy.

Today, I'm quite surprised and pleased to see my boys bent for color and design. They have both come up with some really great looking ideas. They show their differences. One is big and bold and bright. The other is more restrained and orderly. Different kids, different tastes, different outlooks.

My outlook, all good from here.

The Day After

Yesterday was a brush with insanity, that's for sure. It's OK though, it's working itself out just like it should.

We awoke this morning to find the sunshine bright and the world covered in fluffy new snow. Granted it was several inches, the drift on the court yard circle is again above a standard car, but it's nice. New snow is one of the things that make winters in this part of the world a wonderful thing. Without them, I think a lot of us would loose it. Just plain cold and brown for weeks on end? No thank you. I'd rather shovel up the white stuff now and again.

Today the pendulum is again swinging. See, I'm still growing up. Even though I'm getting closer and closer to 40, I'm far from being a "real" grown up. Or at least that's how it sometimes seems to me.

I don't do a very good job of living my life. I do a great job of looking around and comparing. That's when the trouble starts.

I start making plans, check lists, schedules and more plans. I start to dream about and plan for our organized, neat and tidy life. I stress out myself because nothing "goes the way it should". I drive the whole family nuts.

They are kind and forgiving about it, after they get done rebelling.

I'm still trying to balance out the necessary amount of structure and rules with the way that I naturally am. I loath being on any sort of structure. I love to just live it all as it comes. But at the same time, it fills me with fear. Somehow, I can never really give in and just let it all go. Just let us really be all those scary things with loose ends. So we chafe just a little in the schedules.

It's that crazy sort of dual mind. I want the kids to be those home school kids who have all these things checked off, but I also want them to be those exploring kids who are left to themselves. I want to be the mom who has it all together, yet I want to be the mom who reads and writes. I want them to "know their stuff" so they can have a "real life" after homeschool, but I want them to love life, love learning, be creative and alive. I want us to be a part of the world, participating in activities and being part of groups, but I still want to be relaxed and not caring about image and clothes and pop culture.

It's a puzzle this life. How do you put together the pieces of a happy, fun childhood with the world out side your door? How does one be a part of the working world and yet embrace something else?

I know. More questions than answers today. More wondering and scary thoughts from inside my mind than concrete anything. Sometimes the sanity is just in filtering the words out of the body.

It came in a Harry Potter moment. Dumbledore had a thing that he could siphon off his extra thoughts and memories to. He could go back later and sort them, relive them, understand them, but yet they did not have to be floating around inside his head and causing a great clutter of the mind. I'd love to have one of those things.

But I don't. So this is the spot that a lot of the thoughts drop into. Not all of them, but quite a few.

It's a day where I'm embracing the fact that even though we haven't yet cracked a book, the kids are all playing together. There is no fighting or yelling. They moved on to drawing all on their own. They are collaborating and cooperating. Problems are being solved by them, not me. They are sharing. There is sanity. Relative peace. It's not quiet. It never will be, it's a house with kids. It's a home. With a family in it. If it were quiet, it'd be wrong somehow.

The required sorts of learning will come later this afternoon. The alive sorts of learning will come all around and in between.

Maybe, it's just not Monday.

You Thought Monday Morning Was Fun...

I feel compelled to up date you on this utterly marvelous Monday.

We've gotten multiple inches of snow. The Little Miss napped poorly. School work has been avoided by all and every means of trickery.

I shoveled, knowing that The Mr. would be changing my tire for me.

He revealed that a water pipe froze and broke in his office. That meant being evacuated from the building for 30+ minutes. Then a return to the building, but having no running water for a few hours.

Nice.

So now as the evening approaches, I'm thinking of dinner, changing the tire and heading the car over to the shop.

Ah, ha, I should register my shoveling as physical activity. The Mr. should register the tire change. That will count. Especially because we're missing Tae Kwon Do and can't log that on our charts.

The magic charts. The jump through some one else's hoop charts. The if you choose to do this, we'll be so happy to reward you with some of your own health insurance money charts. Oooh, yeah, those charts.

Problem? It's denying my password. And. It's not sending the new password off to my email.

I hate other people's hoops being placed in my life. I don't mind the jumping if I'm the one setting up the hoop.

I can only imagine just how fun this night could be...

Start Again

It's a new hour, so I'm going to start again.

This is one of those days.

You know the sort. Every little while you stop and think, OK, that was the worst of it, now I'm just going to take a deep breath and begin again. The problem is every start so far today has been followed with yet another reason to take another time out for sanity's sake and begin again.

So here I am. I'm taking the umpteenth sanity break this morning. Yes, it's still only morning.

Maybe I should blame it all on the Packer's loss last night. Or maybe it's because we've been so very busy lately. Maybe it's the really cold weather.

Maybe, just maybe, it's life.

I'll give you just the shortest run down of the long list so you can nod your heads over your coffee cup and laugh, thinking of your own days that go this way. It's OK, that's what I do at your blog too.

So here goes.

We will begin with the very traumatizing Packer's loss. Then The Little Miss refusing to just go to sleep and stay asleep. That was followed shortly by The Mr.'s alarm. Breakfast meeting--those words should bring joy to my world. You see, it means that even though he's getting up stupid early, I don't have to. The kids and I can sleep in.

Sleep in. Yeah right, not in my house.

6:15 AM, yup, that's the sleep in part, what sound do I hear? Two little men chatting it up in their bunk beds. I stumble in ready to tell them to be quiet and go back to sleep. Instead I find a bed that really needs to be stripped and a Little Mr. that needs to do some cleaning.

I leave the scene to get disinfecting wipes--a miracle product--and find a nice yellow puddle in front of the toilet in the bathroom. No, it wasn't the dog. Now, it's 6:30 and I have 2 Little Mr's busy on clean up duty.

Insert big deep breath here. Calm thoughts. It's OK. I'll just go down stairs quietly, read the paper and drink some coffee.

Lady, our petite 75lb basset hound, thunders down the stairs like her tail is on fire and runs around the kitchen like she hasn't been feed in weeks. Poor thing, it's only been a few hours. Next down the stairs, thundering boys.

Shh, I hiss at them. Let's at least let the baby sleep. She really needs it, plus she's staying with us all day today. Her visit is off. Let her sleep. There's no reason to get her up, there will be no pick up.

The next sound we hear is, of course, her screaming and throwing things out of the crib.

Ah, what bliss awaits a mom before 7AM?

By 8:30 I'm thinking this is salvageable. We're making some progress. Most of us are fed. Some are even dressed. I've begun the laundry request. You know it, Mom's, say it with me...if you want it washed, make sure it gets down the chute, in the laundry, to the washer, whatever, take your pick.

It's 8:50. Little Miss has arrived in the play pen with PBS. The Little Mr.'s are in the play room. I'm heading to the shower.

Breath deep. Shower. Start over. It's not that bad.

Turn off the water and be welcomed back to the sounds of your life. Little Miss is now screaming again. The Little Mr's are running all over the first floor playing warrior--translation--lots of loud noise. And, oh joy, what do I hear over all of that?

The door bell.

So, wrapped in a towel, covered by my robe, hair dripping wet, I answer the door. Doesn't every mom? It's the driver. But there's no visit. So he stands around talking to me. Roads are slippery, ma'am. Them Packers played real bad last night. Shame, isn't it?

All the while I'm having polite small talk with this man, who I like by the way, I'm thinking, hello!! Can you not see that I'm in my robe and my hair is freezing to my head as I'm standing in the door way!! There is no visit!! Go away!!

The drivers are great men. Very professional and I have no complaints about their service. Quite the opposite. They have a pretty hard job, traffic, construction, dealing with foster kids before and after their visits, dealing with birth parents. Not a job I'd want. And, they make my life easier. Without them, I'd be driving all over Milwaukee several times a day, several days a week. No thanks.

But, I was in my robe...

9:40, I'm finally dressed. Forget the hair, make up and jewelry today. I'm shooting for clean clothes at this point. I keep having this fleeting thought. More coffee. Off to the laundry.

Wait, not quite. Massive diaper stink and cranky baby. Stop there, handle that first.

Laundry. No, break up the boys. Again.

Deep breath. Contemplate that we should give up now and abandon the "schedule" for the day.

No, I'm just being silly. The laundry's not that bad, nor is the weather. I'll get the laundry going and we'll head out to the library, just like planned. Even though we'll have Little Miss. Even though it's really cold. And snowing.

Laundry. I always start it on Monday. It seems like it now takes until Wednesday to get it all done. I sincerely believe that our laundry spawns in the darkness, but never into anything new for me to wear.

10:30, time to get going to the library. Kids, get your books ready. Put on socks and shoes, coats and hats. Yes, I still have to insist on socks. Snow and freezing temperatures are not enough of a natural consequence to convince them that socks are necessary. I can't help that. I just work with it.

11, we're in the van, making progress, actually heading towards the library.

Hey Mom, that's my name you know, Hey Mom, why is the car so loud, and wobbly and leaning.

Um. Just a minute kids, Mom's thinking she should stop and take a look at the van for a second.

Can you guess? Flat tire. No, not a little flat, way flat, like barely able to drive flat.

Oh yeah, that library trip, off. Tae Kwon Do, I don't think so.

Deep breath.

Kid's go to the TV. Mom's going to get a cup of coffee and some sanity. We'll begin again, in a few minutes.

And so we will. We'll begin again. But now that it's noon, we'll begin again right after lunch.

Monday, Monday

It's a Monday all right. It's not all that bad, but I'm going to gripe just a little.

See, it's going just like the stereotypical Monday should. You have a really long list of things to get done, you're a little cranky from the weekend, the kids are a little off, the dogs got an attitude and well, frankly, it's January in Wisconsin.

Translation: It's dark, cold and snowing. Not my favorite. It takes me a large measure of extra motivation to get busy on anything, let alone anything that involves leaving my warm house.

The to-do list really isn't all that bad either, but it's a Monday list. You know the kind. All the left over things that didn't get done last week that you pushed into the weekend, but still didn't get done.

Can I just interject here the scene out my window? For your amusement, I present pizza delivery woman vs. snow plow. Both fully believe that they take precedence over the other. Both vehicles show evidence that the drivers will not back down from their position of supposed prominence over the other. Let's just leave it like this, I'm real glad I keep my car in the garage and not parked out on the circle.

Back to the regularly scheduled whine. I just have those last minute phone calls I meant to make weeks ago, that extra load of wash that I wasn't planning on, extra events to prepare for. Nothing in any way major, but nothing I can let slide any longer.

At least one of the extra events promises to be wonderful. We are having our high school group over for a night of sledding, fire works, food and games. What could possibly be better or more fun! Especially the fire works.

Fire works are something I love, and there is just nothing like seeing them in the dark of a winter night. It just seems so much better. So I'm spending my week looking forward to ending it with a bang.

Travel Anyone?

It seems my kids have the travel bug. Every place they hear of or read about they want to travel to it and see it for themselves. That's really not a bad thing, just a little unrealistic.

For example, just this moment The Little Mr. has asked if we can travel to Holland to see the house that Corrie Ten Boom lived in. A few days ago, The Littlest Mr. wanted to go to Bethlehem.

They didn't get that from me. I stretch to travel from here to Madison or Kenosha. Both those trips are easy and only about an hour away.

Heck, some days it feels like a stretch just to go to the grocery store or the library.

Last night was the start of the return to "Family Does Tae Kwon Do". It was my turn. What that means this morning is that I'm sore. The class itself doesn't make much for aches and pains, it's the stretching warm ups and the ending exercises. I used some muscles last night that I'm pretty sure I've never used before.

Tonight is The Mr.'s turn.

It's all good. The classes are great fun. The people are marvelous. The kids think it's cool that mom and dad take class too.

The Board Break-A-Thon is coming up. That's your call to sponsor my kids. They will each break 5 boards. All the money raised will go to cancer research at Children's Hospital. Last year the J.K. Lee schools raised and donated $52,000. That's a lot of boards, my friends. This year's goal is $7o,000.

I'll say it again. They're a good group.

Irony

I've just finished reading a book called Disobedience. It's a somber book, but still amusing and humorous. Or at least that's how I found it to be. It's wordy and slow, though. I thought that about all Hamilton's books. They take effort to read, but not in a bad way. Late last night when I read the last words, I smiled.

I smiled because it ended just the way I thought it should. She used the words and phrases I would have used if I had been the author. Henry spoke at the end as I would have in my own private conversations. He was seeing the world through his own filter in way that's similar to mine.

It's sort of what I loved about Eat, Pray, Love, that I read last year. It was a book that captured me on many levels. It was fun and that was perfect for the time that I was reading it. Gilbert also reported the world in a way that was familiar to me.

I am always just a tiny bit removed from the thing itself, thinking it all through. Living it over and over in a what if, make-believe sort of style. It's as if that hasn't been lost from my own far away childhood.

I'm here in the reality of everyday life and responsibility, and yet I'm just a single step outside it all. Everything is lived and watched. It is all thought over, thought through and wondered about. It sometimes clouds my actions and decisions because it can be hard to filter what is the experience that the masses have--me being part of that group--and what I've thought happened.

It's the same as Henry. He is there, present for the scene when Elvie is carried off by the men. He just sees it differently. Karen and Beth hear the violence of the men. He hears how quietly they run in the forest. He hears them breathing.

He doesn't feel the violation of his sister until much later. And then, it is only through his own thought process that he gets there.

So the irony part is this.

Over the last week or so, obedience has been hard to come by around here. The transition from slacker holiday to "normal" life has been hard. As the parent and teacher, I've been on the receiving end of a lot of disobedience. It's far different from the book, but it did lend a few light moments to the daily grind.

You have to laugh ever so lightly when you lecture the kids, put them to bed and then curl up with a book called Disobedience.

Just What I Think

This is going to be the year of relationships. I can just tell.

I've already been delighted by the reemergence of some long lost pals. There were some great visits over the holiday weeks and some wonderful surprises in my mailbox. I does bring me great joy to think of rekindling some of these great friendships.

I am also quite happily looking at some other people in the fringes of my life and seeing them in a different light. I'm looking forward to seeing just how events will progress to allow these acquaintances to move into the realm of friends.

These things delight me.

The craze in some of my home school circles right now is a thing called The 888 Challenge. You might have noticed the link on the side. I can't decide if it amuses me or inspires me. I think it might be a great combination of both.

The idea is that you will create for yourself 8 categories to read books from. You will then read 8 books in each of the 8 categories, finishing by the end of 2008. Thus 888 Challenge.

For a day or so, I thought this was a great challenge. Especially if it gets people reading. I am often frightened by people who don't read, so something that encourages reading is positive to me. Then I really started to think it through a little more. At least in terms of myself doing it.

See, I've often kept a record of what I read in a year. I have some lists that date back into the 90's. The reasons for keeping those lists are mine though. I keep them partly just because I have a short memory for titles and author's names. I've in the past found myself part way through a book thinking, haven't I read this before? With the lists, I can go back and see. My lists also help me record what's happening in my life. A year with a tiny baby might have a lot of books, but they're "fluff" books. A year before kids had "hard" books. The lists help me remember what was going on in my day to day. There was a year of beginner home school books. A year of Autism survival books. A year when I day dreamed of being a "real" writer.

I don't really think I could do the 888 Challenge. There are a number of reasons. I don't think I could come up with 8 categories of things I'd like to read 8 books in. Sounds kind of petty or silly, I know. I choose my books on feel. It looked good in the book store or library. I knew someone who said it was a good book. I've liked the author in the past. I've read a review of the book and it caught my attention. It's a book on a subject that I'd like to, or need to know more about at this moment in my life.

I also don't think that I would like the pressure of checking off the lists. That lingering feeling that I must hurry through the book to get to the next so that I'll have read all 64 (or 56 if you're allowing the overlaps) before the buzzer goes off. Some books are meant to be read like a fast food burger is meant to be eaten quickly in the car before it congeals. Some are meant to be like the expensive, extravagant chocolate that you savor or the time spent in the tub with candles and wine. Some are meant to be like your favorite moments or lines from a sitcom or movie, recited aloud to others over and over for laughs.

So, I'll read this year. Rest assured in that. I can't imagine a year that I wouldn't read. I'll probably be a little more focused and assertive in my reading, just because this little craze sweeping the home school moms tweaks me. But I know I won't be setting any records other than my own personal list of what my life looks like this year. When we move into 2009, I'll be able to look back over the list and see things about the year 2008 that I won't be able to see while I'm living it.

Our Favorite Things

My plan for last night was to get all the kids in bed early and have a really quiet, peaceful evening with The Mr.

In the middle of dinner the kids are making all kinds of crazy comments. Whose kids don't? So The Mr. sings a line from a song, modified, of course, "I am nine, going on 40..."

Said 9 year old looks up from his plate of mystery dinner and says, "Oh, I know that song. It's from the Sound of Music."

It's no understatement to say The Mr. and I had our heads on a swivel and our mouths hanging wide open at this point. We weren't even sure he'd ever seen The Sound of Music.

Thus began the discussion of the movie and it's time period. We're about half way through studying WWII in our history studies, and so the plans for the night rapidly changed. Suddenly the boys were all a buzz, wanting to know how soon we could turn on the movie.

And so it went. My quiet evening in the matching arm chairs with The Mr. was replaced by the group watching the movie together. In the end, it was declared a "cool movie even though there was a lot of that icky kissing stuff". It was also decided that the Rev. Mother sings way too loud and warblely for any one's liking. They thought her song could have been shorter and it would be no loss. Truthfully? I agree.

Last night and again this morning I wondered at the marvel of the whole night. 5 & 9 year old boys, willingly cuddled in with their parents to watch an "old" musical about history. Wow.

I'd love to somehow say it's a homeschool thing, but I'm not so sure it is. I think it wouldn't take much for any parent to recognize that there are movies that go along with the things their kids are studying in school. Being the teacher, I notice it a bit more than a non-teacher parent, but just the same, any parent that helps with homework ought to have some clue what their kids are studying. Any family could make their movie night worth a little more.

Not to say that there isn't always a time and place for some mental junk food. We all crave that once in a while, but this was good.

That's about the best way I can describe it. It seemed perfect to have a boy curled in my lap as we watched the Von Trapp family climb over the mountains in their final scene. It seemed right to have a boy wondering and asking new questions about a history that suddenly seemed a whole lot more real that what he read in the battle histories. It was good to tuck them into their beds while they mumbled about their favorite scenes and songs.

Slacker Mom Confessions

It's official. I am a slacker Mom. It just plain fits.

It's not that I don't like organization or schedules. I do. After I get used to them and get into the habit. It's just that it takes so much effort to make the plans and then stick to them. I'd much rather just fluff along.

Not necessarily leading a fluffy life, just be more go with the flow than structure. The kids on the other hand, need structure. They thrive on schedules.

So, I spent part of my morning making a plan for the next half of the school year. I use Managers Of Their Homes. It has great charts. I don't use it as intended though. It's much more of a big daily to do list or a routine reminder. We don't skip over something because the half hour changed or get crazy because we're technically behind whatever is listed on the chart. We use it as a reminder to keep on track and to keep moving on to the next thing.

If I didn't use it this way, it would be way to stressful for me. I'd be constantly feeling pressured to fit it all into the time blocks and guilty when it didn't work.

This is life with kids, folks. And a home school life at that. Learning takes it's own time and fits into no one's preplanned schedule.

As for getting back to school this week, well, that's where the slacker mom in me came out. We haven't done it yet.

Wondering what we have done?

Well, we've played the piano. We've done puzzles, read books and colored pictures. We've played lots of board games and card games. We've gone to the library and Tae Kwon Do. We've built and rebuilt the marble tower. We've tried to nap. We've played outside. We hosted lots of wonderful guests and been to piano lessons. We started basket ball practice.

Seems to me like we're doing ok and are right on track for our sort of life.

It's A New Year

Time to start working our way back into the groove.

I was thinking I had something witty to share with you today, but I don't. Then I was thinking I had something deep to share with you, but again, I don't.

Right at the moment, I'm just bleary eyed with sleep changes. Moving from the luxury of sleeping in over holidays to "real life" schedules is a bit much for the first few days.

2007 was a fast and full year. We were blessed and challenged. We grew. A lot.

I expect 2008 will be much the same. I think, no maybe I feel, that this will be a year of people, not events. I think it will be a year of significant relationships. Perhaps some new ones and deepening of some old ones.

I'd list my resolutions, except that I don't do resolutions. So, you'll just have to amuse yourself with your own!