Take your mom to work

Last night I got to accompany Eliza to her AWANA meeting, since the neighbors who usually take her were sick. I'd actually wanted to go for a little while, but I'm usually on my way home from work as she's on her way there. I've been curious, because she's always on cloud nine when she gets home ("How was it, Eliza?" "It was GRAND!"). Honestly, I think part of it is the opportunity to go and do something on her own, with a carload of girlfriends. But being there last night with her was neat, because it felt sort of like Take Your Daughter to Work Day, except that she was the veteran and I was the newbie. She showed me where to go, etc., and it was like I got a glimpse of a little world she's been part of, but I haven't -- which is rare! As the evening progressed she surprised me a bit by acting quite comfortable and even speaking up to participate (she's usually VERY shy in a group). I realized that for her, it's not about entertainment value or a big show (which it wasn't) ... but rather, that atmosphere was just her size -- small groups (5-6 kids), encouraging (but not over-the-top exuberant) adults. Oh, and there were goldfish and animal crackers. And, she clearly felt good about her Bible memory verse accomplishment -- it's like, finally, it's not Ian but I, ELIZA, the MIDDLE CHILD, who am showing my stuff and getting the kudos! (Can you tell I stress about this issue?)

Anyway, I felt blessed, like I'd been given a divine gift -- an opportunity to enter my daughter's world and share what's important to HER. It reminded me that the Lord has His ways of taking care of my children and meeting their needs, and it's not always dependent on me. Plus, it was a one-on-one -- well, the car ride, anyway -- and you know how I feel about that!

Scary!

Okay, trying not to freak about this, but ...
This site lets you plug in your address and find out the names, addresses, even pictures of any and all registered sex offenders in your area. And that's just the registered ones. Fortunately, my immediate neighborhood, like a one-mile radius from our house, only has three or four (it's sad that I have to say "only") but once you get beyond our quiet little quadrant of the map, yikes!
There is so much to think about as a modern parent, which I guess really means, so much to pray about.

Monday

We started back up with our weekly co-op today, and whew, not a day too soon. I've recently realized what a creature of routine I am, how I rely on the outward trappings of routine to give us forward momentum. During the breaks between semesters, when co-op's out and other activities are on hold, I kind of fall apart. I know most homeschool moms just love to hang out in their pajamas and spend cozy times at home, lots of it, but I guess I'm a maverick because I really like to have somewhere to go. Of course, now that I have three children, I do appreciate the value of a day with no regular commitments, a wide-open invitation to get out the paints or the popcorn or maybe even talk the kiddos into a spontaneous outing. But those days are more welcome when they're not ... every day.

I actually discussed this very issue, my tendency to restlessness and need for some level of outside activity, with my mom this weekend during our delightful lunch at The Steeping Room. Did I mention my mom is in town? Well, sort of, anyway -- she's staying out in Elgin, a.k.a. "out in the country," with my in-laws, with the express purpose of getting some much-needed rest. But we've wangled our way into some time with her now and then, and Saturday was our day to have lunch, buy some pants for Ian, some curtains for the girls' room, etc. I managed to make it, oh, five minutes into the lunch, to the point when she said, "So how are YOU doing, honey?" before dissolving into tears. Yay me! That seems to be my function in life lately. Test the absorbency of disposable paper goods.

So back to the co-op thing. The nice thing about this co-op is that, while I'm pretty involved, as the treasurer and with my required parent-volunteer hours, there are some weeks when all I need to do is drop off the older two, collect a few checks in the hallway, and then, o rare and precious opportunity, the morning is ours -- just Caroline and me. I really enjoyed spending the time with her this morning, even though it was short and she did spend a chunk of it playing in the bathroom sink while I put away laundry. I guess I just always feel like I'm at my mothering best when I'm one-on-one with the kids (don't we all do better when we can focus?). She really hammed it up for me, too. I had laid out on the craft table a bunch of National Geographic pictures of various ocean animals, and she took the tour, she got inspired. She grabbed a green pencil and Ian's sketchbook and began creating her own marine life. It's pretty amusing to watch that girl draw. She gets all serious, very purposeful, and after scribbling something unidentifiable to the adult eye, finally looks up and proudly pronounces it, "a mommy fish and a baby fish!" Or whatever. You can almost see the smoke pouring out her ears. It's wonderful.

Oh, one more thing and then I'm off. We finished painting our bonus room this weekend! We're totally kicking ourselves for not taking a "before" picture, because it was such an artifact of the '70's before: walls that were basically yards and yards of dark fake-wood paneling. And dark wood trim. And vinyl flooring, covering partially with carpet (well, that's staying, for now.) Get the picture? But even though the walls turned out more like Peach (or as Tim put it, "'80's Telephone") than the taupe I had envisioned, we now have a transformed room, thanks to the help of some industrious friends. I'd post a picture but it still looks like a bomb went off in here. Let's just make that a coming attraction.

In Mourning

Tim woke me up this morning with the kind of look on his face that told me EXACTLY what was going on. I knew immediately, maybe because it's one of those things I sort of low-grade worry about every night. Remember Fluffer, the lost black hen we lost and found a couple weeks ago? Well, this morning she was killed by a hawk, right there in our backyard. We could hear the other hens squawking and keening and basically making a fuss, even though they never treated her right anyway, and when Tim went out the perpetrator was just flying away, leaving a limp, black feather body in one of the garden beds. It's kind of surprising that this has never happened before, since there's been a hawk in the neighborhood for over a year now, but I guess (s)he just got tired of waiting for mice and rabbits and saw a stray black something scurrying around on her own and decided to swoop in to get our morning started off on a note of grief and misery for all. I think I shed just as many tears as my wee folk.

She's buried in the garden bed, now, and the kids have decided to mark her grave with a memorial stone this afternoon. Sigh. This is why we would never make it as farm family.

OK, now on a totally silly note, if I could just lighten the mood a bit (since I won't be receiving a sympathy card in the mail this time from the Animal Hospital) ... I was just reading an article in Time Magazine about the chemistry of love (they had several articles on The Science of Romance in last week's issue). OK, did you that the length of your ring finger reflects your testosterone level? Try this with me: compare the length of your ring finger to that of your index finger. The longer your ring finger is compared to your index finger, the more testosterone you have bubbling around in your brain (or wherever it bubbles ... but let's not get into that). That in turn correlates with math, musical, and mechanical ability. Well, I was able to form a quick hypothesis and instantly prove myself correct. My ring finger is ... noticeably SHORTER than my index finger. So there you go. Deficiencies explained. I wonder whether this also explains my difficulty with being assertive and, basically, with navigating any kind of conflict situation without crumbling or apologizing for, you know, the fact that the sky is blue. Isn't that all tied into testosterone? Huh.

I should go check out my dear son's fingers. And I think Eliza's look just like mine. Finger stretchers, anyone?

New machine

As a result of the computer-related fiasco of last week, I have now made, let's see, I guess just three, but it feels like more, trips to the Apple store, where the hiring criteria seem to be: are you male? are you white? are you thirty-five or under? These worker bees in navy blue T-shirts buzz around you, attending to you every need, and if you don't have any need, they'll help you manufacture one, so that suddenly a repair turns into a $600 purchase turns into an $850 one. (I so did NOT buy the cherry-colored iPod I coveted, just for the record.) Turns out that Old Faithful was completely fried, it would have cost my firstborn just to get it up and running again, and therefore (we're SO SORRY to inform you) it REALLY would be much more prudent to just BUY A NEW COMPUTER -- FROM US! So, tax refund, come to me quickly, because I have already shelled out a healthy piece of your bulk on a Mac Mini, plus 3 years of AppleCare.
It's sitting on my desk, right now, up and running and being used by ... my husband. I hear it's really fast and positively delightful in every way. :-)
Oh, and get this: they gave me back my old computer, and when I inquired as to whose responsibility it was, theirs or mine, to recycle the thing, the guy at the desk (just for the record, his T-shirt did NOT say "Genius") actually said the following to me: "Well, whenever I get rid of my old computers, I just throw them into the dumpster." OK mister, guess what? It looks like the next customer in your queue is ... Al Gore! And he has a little slideshow to show you! Take it away, Al!

Happy Birthday Paul!!!

Today is the 26th anniversary of the birth of my first little, now my "big little" brother Paul. (I say "big little" because even though he'll always be younger than I am, I have to reach up to hug him now!) Happy, happy birthday to someone who is a very expressive and talented writer, a caring brother, a devoted and loving husband, a deep thinker and reader with a wide-ranging curiosity, a sweet uncle, a seeking man of God, and just an all-around dear person.

Sending you lots of love and thoughts of Baskin-Robbins ice cream cake (and maybe Charlie Browns)! :-)

My latest strategy

I wanted to post about a small success we've had lately, mostly for my own sake, because if I can put some of our successes into words, it helps me to not be so focused on all the stuff that gets me down during the day (which mostly stems from my need for sense of achievement or accomplishment -- yeah, after seven and a half years, I'm still trying to let go of that).

We took about 4 weeks off of any kind of formal "schooling" around the holidays. In getting ready to ramp up again, I sat down with Ian and had one of those "what do you want/what do I want" kind of discussions. What does he want? More Legos. What do I want? A positive, cooperative attitude when it comes to tackling our (very gentle) academic agenda for the day. So ... introducing the Punch Card System! We agreed that every time Ian does an assignment, be it a bit of math or his OT-required exercises, with a cheerful attitude (meaning no groans, no eye-rolling, no comments about how it's "Not FUN," etc.) he gets a hole punched in his index card. Five punches, he gets 20 minutes (his suggestion) of computer time. Ten punches, the card becomes a Lego Buck. He gets to decide how many of those he wants to save up, depending on what set he wants.

OK, I know you may be thinking, learning should be its own reward, right? I shouldn't be dangling material stuff in front of him to get him to learn? Well, I struggled with that whole idea for a while and I finally decided, you know what? Sometimes, some of us need a little boost to get us to the point where we can be intrinsically motivated. If the thought of earning Legos get him to bite his tongue before whining about math (and I'm telling you, I work hard to make math interesting around here!), then he may find that the whining was just a bad habit, not a true reflection of his feelings, and that as he forms new habits and achieves competence, math (or writing, or stretching) may not be so bad after all. It's demoralizing to work with a reluctant student, especially when you're also trying to fend off an interrupting toddler, and I just can't do 100% child-led learning -- we need some structure to our day, and I think that's part of education -- and I think this system makes more sense in our relationship than me snapping at him or giving him the if-you-were-in-school lecture ... so. Here we go. So far, pretty good.

I'm also coming to realize that I have to just make up my mind about what I want and require of him, and just stick to it without worrying about whether he's lovin' it. I've had this long-held ideal that homeschooling will be just this constant love-to-learn-fest in which my kids ooze enthusiasm about every book and activity I present to them. Okay, then there's reality. But I struggle with it, because of my difficulty with making decisions and my tendency to second-guess myself. Resolution: Let go of some of that perfectionism, accept that some moments will be more golden than others, and don't worry that I'm somehow "messing them up" if I don't choose the "right" educational approach. It's tough, because there are so many opinions out there about how to homeschool, just as there are many opinions about how to parent. I've really been trying to bring this to the Lord more and more, asking Him to show us what our path should be and to release me from my need for approval, either from my children or from some imaginary critic who sits on my shoulder and says things that I would so easily shoot down if a friend told me she was struggling with the same.

OK, so that said, we did have a pretty good day today, partly because (here's that need for achievement!) I got a ton of stuff organized in the kids' rooms. The girls' room is still very much in progress, but I reupholstered the headboard this weekend, and moved their clothes today, among other things, so that was pretty energizing! Even on a nasty, rainy day! Oscar from next door didn't have school due to MLK Day, so the kids were all fairly occupied with Legoes and such for an unusual amount of time, and the boys even ran around for a while in the cold rain doing who-knows-what (spying on me, apparently -- o the excitement!). We read our story Bible during breakfast, we made slime with cornstarch and water, which was both "awesome" and "nasty" (pretty much synonymous, I guess), we read a couple chapters of Dr. Dolittle, we worked on our product chart -- basically a multiplication grid -- using jellybeans as manipulatives and, uh, brain fuel, we watched Blue Planet, we did chores and stretches, and other than that, it was just play, play, play all day.