Week of 9/1-9/5

The girls had their well-child exams today, and this was the conversation that took place afterward in the back seat.
Caroline: I don't LIKE Nurse Stephanie. Because she gives SHOTS, and I HATE shots!
Eliza: Puh-leeze don't mention shots. It gives me the shivers.

But all was well when we returned home and got to paint our salt dough map.

Meanwhile, Caroline painted the furniture dolly that she and Eliza have reimagined as their ship that bears them off to Fairyland.
She, o she of the Magic Marker obsession, had the longest attention span for the painting.

Latin is still going well this week -- surely this is the first time the language has been translated directly into Bionicle code. As long as the interest remains high ...

For history, we finished Pocahontas and the Strangers and read some more in Exploration and Conquest and The New Americans. We're moving toward Plymouth in our studies, and I'm thinking the timing of our October visit to my parents in MA will be perfect for a little field trip to Plimoth Plantation!

Math, Psalm 23 memorization, and Pagoo continue apace. And we're having a ball with our Mark Kistler 3-D drawing book -- Ian came up with a truly impressive crocodile/knight today. I, um, drew a plain crocodile.

A couple of our activities, aside from the improv class I described last time, began this week as well -- Eliza's dance class and then AWANA for both older kids. It looks like it'll be more of a family affair this year, because Ian was willing, with the requisite grumbling, to try it out this fall, and let the teachers know as soon as we got him to the class that he was only trying it out. Within 20 minutes, the chip on the shoulder disappeared and he was ready to register so, sigh, another hurdle cleared. Among the several we attempted to leap this week, some more successfully than others.

And I got my article turned in to the magazine today! It feels like a celebration of overcoming inertia for four weeks, doing something I wasn't sure I could really pull off. Fellow stay-at-home moms, do you ever feel like a turtle withdrawing into her shell, wanting to remain in your own shrinking comfort zone indefinitely? It's like the emotional muscle that needs something to push against, that feels most safe when life stays in the same worn-in groove, grows flabby with passivity. I think of friends of mine who have stepped out on a limb a bit lately, like Tracee with her play auditions and Vanessa with her part-time job, and appreciate the oomph that takes. My own tendency is to crave adventure and experiences from a distance, but then to sit back and wait for things to happen, not wanting to poke my head too far out of my shell.

I'm not saying -- don't misunderstand me -- that simply being a full-time mother is not "enough," or that it doesn't require the creativity of Walt Disney, the diplomacy of Jimmy Carter, the patience of Mother Teresa, and then organizational skills of ... well, someone who doesn't become brain-dead by 10:30 p.m. It's just that for me personally, my children and home can become so much my little cozy sphere that I use those demands as an excuse to keep from growing into whomever God is calling me to be.

Now that I've covered that tangent thoroughly, I think I'll go see if Tim's up for a round of Boggle. 'Cause, you know, I laugh in the face of danger.