On Being Presented with the Same Lesson Over and Over

I've never surfed. The closest I have ever come to standing up, balancing on something was when I tried out my son's skateboard. I balanced for a second and then the skateboard moved forward, leaving me behind, in the air pretty much like Wiley E. Coyote in the air after he has run off the edge of the cliff. I know what that landing feels like. I really don't know how WEC kept it up. One fall like that was enough for me.

I've never surfed. I lived minutes from the Pacific Ocean in Australia, and had many friends who surfed. Why didn't I try? I doubt if it even occurred to me.

I've never surfed, but I realized today that several issues appear as GIANT waves any time I admit them into my consciousness. I've been running from the waves. They're BIG. I cannot hold them BACK. They will knock me DOWN. Is it time for me to see what surfing these waves would be like? Surfing is the process of riding a wave to the shore. Surfers love the waves, don't they? Avid surfers often say the bigger the wave, the better.

I'm nowhere near the ocean right now. There's not an ocean wave within 400 miles of here, so I can't go try it. But maybe I can imagine what it would feel like to ride the wave, to be on top of it, to go with it toward the shore.

What do I see as I imagine this? I feel the powerful movement of the water beneath my board. The sun is out, shining as it does every single day somewhere in the world. I understand the wave is something that is exhilarating. Every wave has its crest and then gets smaller and smaller as it moves toward the shore. Surfing the waves is the opposite of standing on the shore, watching the waves come in, dreading their size, fearing their power.

Same lesson, different day. The School of Life keeps pulling this old chestnut out and presenting it to me. Apparently, I've yet to learn it.

Seems like the most important thing in this situation is to keep focusing on what is, rather than what has been. To say yes, and, even if it's through tears. And to keep getting back up and back on my surfboard and trying again. Dude, I'm a gurfer (girl surfer). Yes, only in my mind, but that's a start.

You can’t stop the waves, but you can learn to surf”
Jon Kabat-Zinn

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Book club with the sweet old biddies

Books clubs are ubiquitous in this day and age, right? Meetup groups, branches of the public library, online clubs with Mark Zuckerberg right now, Oprah's book club, church book studies, etc.

I remember being in a church book study group years ago where we studied Jerry Bridges' Trusting God, shown here (see left) with its extremely intense front cover, which matched perfectly the intense prose inside. As I was looking for an image of this book for my blog, I discovered the newer version (see right) of this book. I guess the publisher realized that if they were going to publish such an intense and terrifying book, they better at least make the cover look less terrifying. But I digress.

So, what with the all-consuming nature of my parenting experience the first 20 years of being a mother, book clubs were just a fond daydream, something I could maybe pursue one day when I was no longer doing seventeen things at once.

I've been wanting to be in a group for awhile now. But the time finally came in 2015 when the stars aligned; my parenting intensity had lessened, the difficulties of 2014 were seemingly in the past, my brain was available to look around for a book club, and voila, there was a club scheduled near me reading a book by an author that I thought I would enjoy at a time I wasn't already scheduled to be three other places. Sign me up!

My take on library book clubs is the daytime clubs are populated by an older generation of women, and the evening clubs are populated by younger, working mothers, or women who otherwise can't get free until the evening.

So, after I completed the multiple tasks of signing up, checking out the book, reading the book, going online to discover whether there were book study questions I might prepare, and managing not to double book myself with a doctor visit for one of the kids, I got in my little Camry and drove me and my book to my First Book Club Experience of 2015. It was actually my first experience of this century!

Indeed, the group of ladies there were mostly grandmothers, and were lovely. I tried the mnemonic trick of associating something beginning with the same letter with the names of the participants. I thought Breta was beautiful. Helen had memorable hair. Things got a bit dicey when all I could think of for a rather heavyset woman was Wanda is wide. Rest assured I did not write that one down on my list. I did my best to be open to the different ways of reading the book and characterizing the story and the characters. Helen reads the end of EVERY book before she decides whether or not it is worth reading. Dear, sweet, grandmotherly Mary Carol had a sheaf of papers where she had written down her gentle observations. Patricia had interesting comments to make about quite a few of the characters.

I was mostly quiet, observing. I was practicing not judging the women, a new hobby of mine. Also, the leader had instructed us to go around the circle and give our impression so that everyone could share what they thought, but a number of ladies didn't like that idea quite as well as a lively cross-chat where there were lots of ideas being tossed around like juggling balls. My reticence to speak was further fueled by the fact that my response to the book seemed to be qualitatively different than the majority of what I was hearing.

The book we read featured a more minor character called Susan, which is my given name. Susan was a divorced mother of a 19yo son who had impulsively carried out an act which had huge political implications. I felt like I could relate to a lot of what she went through because of my own experiences with a 19yo son who recently carried out quite a few impulsive actions which have had huge legal implications. So, my response to the book was just fine, but very different than the rest of the group who were all repulsed by the character, Jim.

Group members were friendly to me, including me in what was a relatively established group. The leader seemed intentional about guiding the discussion and allowing everyone to speak. There weren't any group-killing members; you know, the ones who dominate the conversation or somehow make the focus of their every comment themselves. (Oops, the Me who Judges slipped in here, I think).

At the end of group, the leader revealed next month's book. Two long rows of copies sat on a library book cart. I hesitated for only a moment before I picked up a copy and committed myself to another book club experience next month!

In an ideal world, my book club participants would each pause a moment before jumping in to respond to someone else, thereby allowing just a smidgen of space for internal processing of what was just said. But it's a busy world, and we all have a lot to say.

Tell me about your ideal book club? Who would be in it? What kinds of books would you read? What role would you play?

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Small Victories, Baby, Small Victories

Sometimes I think I must be the most obtuse person in the universe.

A little background. Darling daughter started public high school this year, after several years at a 2-days-per-week program 12 miles away. Twice a week, I drove her and picked her up. Had to. No other option. This year, we started by having her ride the bus. School is one mile away. That lasted a week because there wasn't time to get her stuff after school and get to the bus in time. Without thinking it through, I said, "Hey, I'll take you and pick you up."

Here's what I forgot. Darling husband is rarely here at going to school time, so KEPLER and I take her to school. Does Kepler enjoy this process? No, he most certainly does not. He has shown his displeasure many a morning by refusing to budge. He's a strong kid, and it takes both me and DD to hold him (gently!) by the upper arms, and perp walk him to the car.

Isn't it Steven Covey who first emphasized the power of being proactive? I finally got proactive yesterday.

Kepler needed to understand what I was asking him for. I was waiting around for him to catch on, and wake up one morning, and say, "Mother, I now see that it is futile for me to be so obstinate about taking big sister to school. I'll be right with you as soon as I complete my morning ablutions. It won't be a problem anymore." Ooh, good plan there, mom.

See, obvious, like I told you.

But, poor kid, before I got specific and slowed down enough to explain it, he was in a whirlwind of activity every morning, usually me looking for my glasses. And then my keys. And my shoes. And his shoes. (another thing to be proactive about, obviously).

First try had me explaining that I wanted him to cooperate, but I didn't make it very clear what that meant.

Our first trial run was yesterday afternoon on the way to speech therapy. He was doing well, until he determined that me placing his unfinished cup of milk into the refrigerator was decidedly unwelcome and should not be tolerated. FINALLY we got into the car, but I decided he hadn't been cooperative enough. Which then made me realize that I had to get really specific.

So, I explained that I wanted him to cooperate and I explained exactly what cooperation is. In this case, it's simple: put on your shoes, put on your jacket, walk to the car, when asked. Such cooperation earns the privilege of listening to the Frozen soundtrack (for the 87 millionth time).

After speech therapy, he COOPERATED. This morning, he COOPERATED. This afternoon, he COOPERATED. I guess I cooperated, too, by making it possible for him to be successful!

Small victory, but trés, trés sweet.

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How Gary Keller's The ONE Thing got Kepler to Stay with me in the Parking Lot

Look at that little angel face.  Would you ever suspect he'd run away from his mommy in a store, parking lot, park, anywhere-he-needs-to-stay-close? For Kepler, it seems that "Stay with me" is apparently secret code for "Run, Forrest, Run!! Talk about danger!

Taking him places was becoming a huge problem. I dreaded every trip.

Enter Gary Keller and Jay Papasan. Or at least their book, The ONE Thing, The Surprisingly Simple Truth Behind Extraordinary Results.

Not only did I:

- hear about the book, but I also 

- reserved it at the library, and I

- checked it out and brought it home, and amazingly,

- read it from cover to cover, blanketed it with PINK post-it notes, AND

- put it into practice. 

I'm particularly adept at those first three steps, but actually getting around to reading the book is more challenging, putting it into practice is as rare as a two-headed unicorn.

Keller examined the research on multi-tasking and writes on page 44, "Multi-taking is a lie." We simply cannot FOCUS on two things at once. Narrowing our focus to ONE thing yields extraordinary results, as he says. Let's see.

With multiple areas in life that simply must be addressed daily, I have tried to do much multi-tasking. Sometimes it works for things that don't need strong focus, but one where it doesn't is parenting. Applying Mr. Keller's thesis I made a list of the essential areas, and then asked myself this question about each area (see The ONE thing, pg. 106). Here's parenting:

Q:  What is the ONE thing I can do today in regard to parenting that will make everything else easier or unnecessary?

A:  Read and complete the first three chapters of "Without Spanking or Spoiling," a parenting book I have had since 1996 and have not yet read!

Q: What did I discover in those first three chapters?

A:  To define the problem specifically and behaviorally. Vague problem definition was "Kepler doesn't obey." Specific is "Kepler runs away when I tell him to come to me."

Q: What else did I discover?

A: To brainstorm solutions. I came up with 10. 

1. Buy and use a child leash.
2. Take a 3 ft rope along to show him maximum distance he should be from me.
3. Create a simple rhyme like "Obey means Stay."
4. Appeal to his desire to be helpful.
5. Find books on the topic to read to him.
6. Create a social story.
7. Leave him home at all times.
8. Carry him everywhere.
9. Allow him to lead and explore occasionally on errands.
10. Make a leader badge for him to wear where it's his turn to lead.

Q: What happened when I took him next to the store?

A: We got out of the car and he proceeded to dash out into the parking lot while I was getting the cart. (I hadn't made my plan yet!) I grabbed him by the arm and his eyes got wide as we got into the backseat and I gently continued. I looked in his face and said words I guess I never really said before: "Kepler, you MUST stay with me for your safety. There are cars and you could get hit by a car if you run away from mommy. If anything happened to you, I would cry forever." Of COURSE  I had told him bits and pieces of this but not like this; not sitting in the car giving HIM my full attention, focusing on just this ONE thing. 

My words apparently resonated with his sensitive heart, because when we got out of the car, he specifically stood right by me and looked up at me showing me what he was doing. I ended up allowing him to lead part of the time, gave him huge kudos for the good things he was doing -- staying with me, helping me, listening, and I used a previous helpful rhyme: OK means Obey, and added, Obey means Stay. 

You probably know Kepler is the youngest of five kids. The other four didn't run away. Ever. Why? I don't know. They probably thought about it, but maybe my face was stiffer and sterner back then. So who needed strategies for this back then? 

tl;dr: Gary Keller's book The ONE Thing, The Surprisingly Simple Truth Behind Extraordinary Results, has practical applications in parenting and made a huge difference in my experience of taking my child on errands with me.

I'll probably have to review all of this next time, and the time after, and the time after, but he will eventually understand and apply, and so will I. I just have to remember to focus, really focus, on ONE thing.

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If I Knew Then What I Know Now -- Ten Things I'd Do Differently as a Homeschool Mom

This is not what homeschooling looked like here.

Saw a link on Facebook from a homeschool mom who shared what she would do differently now as a homeschool mom. I could relate to some of it. It was posted by a homeschool mom I rarely see, but care about very much. I often read the comments on blog posts, but decided this time to write about my own list first.

First of all, I didn't know then what I know now. Part of the journey of homeschooling is the learning that the parent does. So, maybe this is all just a moot point. But, let's see ...

1. I would de-emphasize intelligence and strongly emphasize character. Thing is, I actually thought I was doing this. Truth is, my "students" were all above average. I was constantly amazed by their grasp of concepts, their precociousness, and the joy I felt at just watching them learn. I didn't realize I was reinforcing intelligence as much as I did. There were multiple times when something they did or said just BLEW ME AWAY. Like Valerie just up and reading the back cover of the Billy Graham autobiography I was reading. What was she, three? Four, at the most. I hadn't even tried to teach her to read. I didn't know that kids could learn to read just be being read to.

2. I would understand that no one else was going to be as thrilled about my children as I, and instead of rueing that, I would be affirming and encouraging to every other mother I came into contact with, realizing that she was as excited about her kids as I was about mine. At the time, my hands (and mind!) were full. The kids were born in 93, 94, and 95, and then 98. Kepler came along years after the first four, but I wasn't just homeschooling one -- I had a class!

3. I would be so much kinder to myself. Nothing ever felt like it was enough, and I know MANY homeschool mothers who experience this. Probably just about everyone who homeschools feels this at some point.

4. I would recognize a kid "come-apart" as an opportunity, not a sign that I was failing at my job. This might be the biggest one for me. I had a misunderstanding about my own role and responsibility in the feelings of my children. I needed them to be happy, and that was probably the biggest disservice I did them in my zeal.

5. I would remember that every type of school situation is good for someone, and every type of situation is also less-than-ideal for someone. Now that I'm on this side of things, where the educational methods of our kids include(d) some homeschooling, a bit of public school, years of a two-day-a-week homeschool set-up, an exhausting early grades online school, a poorly-administered online high school online, and the learn-while-you-sleep method we practiced for a few weeks months, I've discovered that there are PROS and CONS to every method.

(As an aside, big-time homeschooler mother, Mary Hood, wrote a book (June 1995) called "Onto the Yellow School Bus and Through the Gates of Hell." Back when I started homeschooling, there were only a few voices writing about it. Although I never bought into Mary's philosophy, the title comes to me often when I put my little Kepler on the school bus and send him to school where he is absolutely loved and cherished by his team. From the bus driver, to the school secretary, to the librarian, to the other students, I hear all the time how much joy he brings them. And they, as a group, give him things I simply cannot provide at home. )

6. I would find a balance between the heavy peer pressure of the school setting, and the freedom we had as homeschoolers. Without adequate preparation, going into public school can be (and was) traumatic. Happy-go-lucky kids who were unself-conscious became very self-conscious when they entered the public school system, not because they were deficient, not because the school system was evil, but because there are developmental phases that happen.

7. I would never, ever, ever compare my insides to anyone else's outsides. Because, you know what? My insides ALWAYS came up lacking, when I looked at someone else and thought I knew ANYTHING about them based on what I saw.

8. I would find a balance between my very laid-back teaching style, and a more directive style. Both styles work in different situations, but some work better than others with young learners.

9. I would get up earlier and get us going and have a routine that we stuck to for more that a few days or weeks. Yes, back then, I was exhausted, dealt with depression, and had several "owies" on my heart. But that would have been a great example to my children, and one less thing to chastise myself about.

10. I would get professional photos taken every year. Well, I think I would. No, this one is that I would take a similarly posed photo in a similar place every year. I still have extra copies of the professional school photos I got of every child from every year. They're so hard to let go of, even if we have enough for every person in our family! My photos would be all about the heart of the learning, the heart of the family, the heart of the giving, the heart of the love.

Things I am extremely glad I (we) did?
1. Read out loud, nearly every day and evening.
2. Do as much experiential learning as we could.
3. Practiced as best I could, a lifestyle of learning.
4. Enjoyed our children.
5. Made it through.

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A Light Bulb Moment about Entitlement

Here I've been thinking that the opposite of Entitlement is Gratitude, and what was needed to shift an entitlement mentality was a healthy dose of gratitude. But, noooooo. The opposite of Entitlement is RESPONSIBILITY.

I admit, I do know some people who seem to feel entitled to what they have, and more! And I kept thinking I needed to get them to focus on how much they DO have, how GOOD they have it, how people in so many other countries have it SO much harder. But, I noticed that those efforts weren't actually shifting that sense for them. How do I know this? I was reading the comics yesterday morning and this comic was written for me, aka She-Who-Takes-on-Responsibility-That-Belongs-To-Others:



I hearkened back to my childhood, something worth hearkening back to, and I remembered how I was expected to contribute to the running of the household and the care of myself. I cleaned house, cleaned my room, kept my car filled with gas, participated in church activities, school activities, and studied for tests. I starting working at age 11, because I had the opportunity to work with my dad, but I was always interested in working, even scrubbing the kitchen floor, on hands and knees with my sisters one time, for the princely sum of $9.00, to be split three ways.

But I wouldn't say I was grateful. I complained because my mom didn't want to buy me the same clothes everyone else was wearing. My first Aigner jeans were bought with my own money. I complained because I wasn't allowed to go places at all hours. It was distinctly unfair that we weren't allowed to watch MTV. Church morning and night?? OMG, parents.

I would definitely say, though, that I was responsible. And because I was not only responsible, but ultra-super-overly-extra responsible, I did that human thing and ricocheted to the other end of the spectrum as a parent. Tried to say yes whenever I could. Did nice things for my children. And thought they would catch responsibility and gratitude. Au contraire. It is the delegation of responsibility onto a young person which is gradually assumed by that young person and ultimately creates a responsible adult.

Important note: This post is about my understanding of the entitlement mentality and may not reflect the views of others in my home.

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Well, well, well. Siouxsie's back.

SOMEthing got me to thinking this morning about reflecting on the past year.

I remember mentioning awhile back that I'd be happy to see the end of 2011, and that I was looking forward to 2012.

In 2011, I learned a lot about teenagers and all their messiness. At first, I resisted the lesson.

It wasn't supposed to be like this, filled with jagged edges and rock faces to scale.. Looking back at my own teen years, I saw about 3 teaspoons of rebellious behavior in myself. (I actually think my parents would agree with this assessment, and the fact that I include that should prove my point.) So, having bypassed things like going to parties parents didn't know about, underaged drinking, and the sordid like, I was unprepared for some of the things teenagers do.

Took it all personally at first. "Where did we go wrong?" those sorts of questions. Angry I had spent YEARS homeschooling youngsters who still made decisions I disagreed with. Bewildered that we, as loving parents, as committed and happily married parents, as parents who listened and loved and taught and read out loud and drove kids places, and did all manner of Outstanding Parenting could have kids who wondered if they were really loved. Depressed that I had planned for smooth sailing in the teen years only to discover my three teenagers standing up in the boat, completely disregarding the life jackets I held out to them, perched on the gunwales rocking for all they were worth.

After Taking It Personally came the I AM WOMAN I CAN FIX IT stage. Hunker down, try harder, speak more persuasively, listen mo' better, give more, ask for less, hold their hearts and hands in mine, find outside help, grit my teeth REAL hard, click my heels, and BELIEVE. Short paragraph, but it seemed like that phase lasted forever.

There may have been other, just as effective, stages, but learning about the creature called "the teenager" and letting go of EITHER/OR thinking were the two experiences that transformed my reality.

Keep in mind I think my teens are wonderful, intelligent, thinking, caring, humorous, growing people. I love them forever, and I like them a lot (well, except for a few days back in February. And a few in March. And April. Maybe a couple in June). But before the big transformation in my understanding, I thought they were doing "it" wrong.

Since I didn't get the Teenagers Are Inexplicably Incomprehensible memo as a teen or as a parent of babies, toddlers, pre-teens and teenagers in the early honeymoon phase, I was continually taken by surprise, especially this year. It helped to read Bob Meehan's "Beyond the Yellow Brick Road," although I'm not sure what I think of him or his methods. I did think his book was helpful. Really helpful. It was the Teenagers Are Inexplicably Incomprehensible (AND THAT IS JUST FINE) memo I had missed. So I started embracing the ride, accepting it for what it was.

And it's been good. And it's been hard. And it's been fun. And I am so grateful for the teens who are in my home. They teach me things. Presumably I teach them things now and again. We laugh a lot and we have some pretty great talks. And I trust the process.

I am thankful for all of it. Now. It took awhile. Here's to you -- Valerie, Joel, Eli, and Anna-Jessie.

And even though this post is centered on the teenage portion of our show, I want to also thank Greg and Kepler for all the great things they bring to our family.

Happy New Year.

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Partly Sunny with a Chance of School Starting

I'm trying to figure out how school is going to work this year. I have four kids I'm homeschooling. Two go to the homeschool program two days a week. The other two will be home full time. I have also chosen to have my older two kids do their math at home, and the science outside of the homeschool program. The only catch is this makes ME responsible for the whole kit and caboodle. I know, I know, I AM responsible for the whole kit and caboodle. The kit and caboodle are just a little intimidating right now. My brilliant 14-year-old son, who truly is not one iota less than brilliant, has a mind that works very differently from mine. Therefore, some of the questions I ask him are taken by him as evidence that I do not trust him. Questions like, can I see that website where the list is? He is able to make decisions on a dime and seems to have almost computer-like abilities to process information quickly. I, on the other hand, can make different types of decisions quickly, and I have my own computer abilities. The types of things we process quickly are pretty much opposite from each other. I am not frustrated or angry or disappointed with him -- I see the process of working with him as a very good challenge, one that I enjoy because he DOES think so differently than I do. I'm still trying to figure out how best to frame my questions, encourage him, etc.

The current struggle is over the chemistry assignment he has to complete before the first day of class. I want him to do it well, to have the finished product show clearly his writing ability, his grasp of the material and evidence that he spent some good time researching, thinking and processing the info. I came upon him this afternoon, switching from window to window -- first the info site, reading a few sentences, distilling the points, then back to the essay page, where he would insert his thoughts. To me, that seems like a lazy way to do the work. Lazy is a pejorative word -- maybe efficient is a better word. Ultimately, though, I don't see that method as requiring much of him. And with the capabilities he has, I want him to use his brain and heart and mind to do hard things well.

He has the ability to see the bigger picture, and the connections he makes are often pretty cool. But those connections come when he really cares about what he is talking about. I don't think he really cares about this essay.

So, after he made his case for doing his way, I said ok. Go ahead. Do it the way you think you should. Two minutes later, he tells me he thinks the way I was suggesting is better and he's planning to work on it as soon as he has some toast. Go figure.

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This is What the Tropic Thunder Controversy Reminded Me Of

With the opening of the new movie “Tropic Thunder” I am reminded of my own journey with the word “retarded.” It was part of my vocabulary growing up, as in, “Oh, that was so retarded.” I didn’t think about what I was saying, or maybe I did and it just didn’t matter that much to me. Fast forward to January 2, 2006 when a son with Down syndrome blesses my life with his birth and my understanding and use of that word changes drastically. I don't use the word "retarded" anymore, although I do use the term "mental retardation" pretty much in a clinical way, not in a judging way. I no longer feel that mental retardation is a terrible thing or something to be feared or looked away from, although there are certainly people who have very difficult lives because of the complications of their condition and for whom I have great compassion.

When we were about six months into the adventure of parenting Kepler, I received and accepted an invitation to visit a weekly women’s group consisting of women from my church. I was deep in a time of learning more about becoming authentic, and learning much about being the parent of a special needs child, and dealing with pumping breast milk around the clock for my little son who couldn’t seem to latch on properly, so it was a very emotional time.

The women’s group was a pretty typical group of ladies who brought both pain and love with them to the meeting. Throughout the evening, I found myself feeling very defensive on behalf of one of the women because I felt like the other women were giving her the message, “Just change your mind and get over this stuff.” At some point, I decided to back off and was nursing some hurt feelings. One of the women I was least comfortable with happened to say the following: “I think dogs are like retarded kids. You can only teach them so much.” Since I was still adjusting to the idea of parenting a “retarded kid” I was aghast, stunned, and overcome with grief. Another woman held me as I cried and no one talked about what had happened. The woman who had made the comment did not know about Kepler. I left the group and never went back and never saw her again. Until . . .

Last week in J.C. Penney (two years after the original event), as I shopped, I caught the eye of a woman pushing a stroller and thought I recognized her. I glanced at her again and sure enough, it was the woman who had made the comment. What I was making up about it was that she recognized me but was ignoring me and I had to choose whether or not to acknowledge her. I knew that I wanted to make peace with this woman, so I asked her her name and reminded her of mine and how I knew her. I told her I was so sorry about what had happened that night and I told her about Kepler and how much of a blessing he is and how early it was in our life with him. She told me she knew she had said something wrong but had no idea what it was. I hugged her and again apologized and told her I was so glad I had run into her after all this time. I think it was the perfect time, actually, because I was definitely ready to stop judging her and mend the broken thing between us. She had tears in her eyes and so did I. I love when we get the opportunity to find healing.

And this kid is just such a major blessing.

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Kids and Recycling

I was reading Stephanie's blog this morning about helping her kids be more green. And it got me to thinking about some of the recycling faux pas we have had around here.

The other day, the recycling bins were out at the street, patiently waiting for the garbo to come along and throw them in the recycling truck which may, for all I know, be emptied directly onto the landfill. Anyway, I spied some recycling in the garage, which I KNEW had been deposited there by the chore-doer. Sought out said chore-doer and asked, "Why is there recycling on the garage floor when the bins are out there at the street?" In his infinite wisdom, he had determined that there simply wasn't another angström of space in the bins so he thought it would be much better to wait until the bins came back empty and THEN put the stuff in (like 3 envelopes and a small box). This time, I HAD an inquiring mind, and I suspected that PERHAPS he did his space estimation from the house, rather than actually walking out to the bins. Since I know that space is the final frontier, and that recycling can almost always be squooshed some more, I directed him to march the recycling right out there and find a spot for it.

And then there was the "recycling" I noticed in the bins the other day. It was the bottom of a baby wipes box (may or may not have been recyclable) which contained: A FULL JAR OF PEANUT BUTTER, an expensive bag of chili spices, a partial box of Lemonheads, and a clip from the dry-erase board. I can see the box and clip being overlooked, but wouldn't one NOTICE that the wipes box weighed like an entire pound and wonder about that? Apparently not.

And lastly, there is the problem of the milk cartons. I buy very expensive organic milk, and God knows it would be nice if the cartons could be recycled, but they can't. How many times have I said they cannot be recycled? One too few apparently.

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Lost and Found

Missing cell phone status: FOUND. Even though we had looked down in and under the couches, yesterday I stuck my hand down in the cushions and pulled out a cell phone! Kind of like Tom Thumb -- Oh, what I good girl am I! (Told you I'm still a good girl!)



Missing library book status: STILL LOST. But I was able to renew it, and I also found out that losing it will only cost us $3.91 so I'm not sooo worried anymore.



Missing Sure Steps: STILL MYSTERIOUSLY LOST. So strange. I still believe I am going to find them because I still have hundreds of nooks and crannies to check.

What all three of these items have in common is that I am going to keep them a little closer to ME and a little farther away from the KIDS as I find them. I know Kepler loves dangling his little Sure Steps, but he can dangle these once he has new ones to wear on his feet. And I think I will just hold onto Joel's phone for the time being.

Making progress!

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Boomerang Bay Today - I'm a Hero

Today, I singlehandedly took 7 whole children to the waterpark, Boomerang Boy. Of course, five of them were my own, so that made things a little easier. But this was the very first time I have ever been there, and I was taking Kepler along, so I wondered it was going to work to have him there. It worked great!

Sorry I don't have any actual photos of the kids. It was more than I thought I could handle to take my camera, keep track of it, keep it from getting wet, take photos, let alone good ones.

We arrived just as the park opened. I anticipated a long line of people waiting to get in but I was pleasantly surprised to find a parking spot three spaces from the door, and a fairly low attendance when we arrived. We were even able to find chairs under the canopy by the baby pool.

I took Kepler on one of those lazy river rides where you float along on an innertube. Characteristically, I made sure not to go under any of the big splashy parts. He was way relaxed and on the second time around his little eyes closed, even as he clapped at the end of each song.

We ended up staying about 2 1/2 hours and it was just a perfect amount of time. With season passes, we can go up any time and not feel like we have to stay for 6 or 8 hours to get our money's worth.

We are looking forward to going back! It was so fun to see how much the kids enjoyed themselves and how much they enjoyed playing with Kepler. Such great kids. Several of the kids independently thanked me for taking them to the waterpark today.

See? I'm a hero.

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Parenting 101

Dear Person Who Was Just At The Same Baby Shower As I Was,

Your daughter is sure cute. Her strawberry blonde hair was so pretty and she was obviously excited to be there.

Let me just point out, though, that she ceased to be cute when she insisted on opening the presents ahead of the honoree, and pulled things out of the gifts before the honoree even got to see the first item in the package.

I'm sure you noticed that the honoree was extremely gracious to your daughter, but did you not notice the rising tension in the room as your daughter continued to rush ahead? Did you notice that the hostess told your daughter to wait? Did you consider having your daughter come and sit back down with you instead of blocking everyone else's view and making the honoree focus as much on your daughter as she did on the gifts she was opening?

Your oft-repeated "Wait, honey" didn't do much. Did you notice? Did you notice how much energy had to be exerted to work with your cute little girl who just couldn't contain herself? Oh, did I mention that sometimes containing the child is the PARENT'S responsibility?

I'm sure your presence was welcome and appreciated at the shower. Your little girl was sure cute, but her behavior was neither welcome, appreciated, nor cute.

Your Friend,

The Lady at the End of the Couch

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Since I Last Wrote

Well, it's been a quiet weekend around here. Compared to my friend Carla, who started Saturday morning with a piano recital at 8 am, then headed off to a soccer game for her older son, then got a phone call from the lady at the state competition for piano who informed her that her sons were coming up soon in the program and she should get there asap (she had forgotten about this). Then when they got home, they had company for dinner, and the company stayed late so they didn't get to make their pinewood derby car so they had to do that Sunday morning. Ugh. I am so glad I don't have such a schedule.

So, Friday night I attended a concert for which my mom was the accompanist. Saturday night, we attended a Seder dinner at my mom and dad's house. Sunday, we went to church and out to lunch, then I spent some time with my dear hubby in the afternoon but only after we delved into some v-e-r-y s-c-a-r-y territory where he mentioned that he doesn't actually like or dislike what I wear; he just accepts it. This revelation came at a time when I am feeling like everything I wear looks terrible on me because I need to lose some serious weight. You have to understand that Greg is not your stereotypical husband who is clueless in many areas, and/or demanding in many areas. He is a kind, loving, caring, thoughtful, supportive guy, pretty much 24/7. So it was a shocker for him to acknowledge that maybe there's something to be desired in how I dress.

I used to dress nicely. I used to have a lot more places where it was the norm to dress nicely. But since we have been going to an ultra-casual church for 5 1/2 years and I don't work outside our home, most of my dressy clothes have gone by the wayside for one reason or another. Finally, it got to the place where I had only one nice outfit for colder weather, and no nice outfits for warmer weather.

Coincidental to all of this, I realized that taking care of my appearance is one of the things I have relegated to the back burner, as I have gradually done away with more and more things that really take care of me, or things that I enjoy. That realization came last week and I went right out the next day and bought some things that are not t-shirts, not jeans, and actually could be considered pretty. Went out again Saturday and bought a couple more things. So when I went to church Sunday morning (at the new place) I chose to wear a skirt. I felt better about myself, having taken time to choose something pretty to wear.

The other big trauma from the weekend was clothes shopping with Val, my 15-year-old. Perhaps because of my example, she dresses very casually almost all the time. And with few to no occasions that require anything dressy, her wardrobe is very casual. Her choir will be singing next week and she needed a black outfit. So off we went to get her one. We did great on the top and skirt part, but things got very grim when we went shoe shopping. I was determined to buy something inexpensive because I have bought several items that have been worn once or even nonce and I know she does not like to wear dress shoes. I had something specific in mind, and felt like I chose a pair that was a reasonable compromise between what she would like to have and what I felt like was appropriate. I am not pushy when it comes to clothes. I was getting tired though and wanted to be done with shoe shopping especially because I could see we probably were not going to come to agreement. I declared that THESE were the ones we were going to buy.

Her reply was . . .

"You can buy them, but that doesn't mean I'm going to wear them."

This did not sit well with me, and more words were exchanged between the two of us, and then silence ensued. I did not buy them. I pouted in silence for a couple of hours until I finally calmed down enough to realize that the amount of trouble she gives me is miniscule and the amount of pleasure and joy she brings is vast and I was wrong to be holding on to my anger.

The next morning she and I were walking on the trails at the park, playing our "what If" game where we ask each other hypothetical questions. One question came up which gave both of us the opportunity to acknowledge that we would like to take back what we said around and about the shoes issue, and forgiveness was offered on both sides.

So, we are back on track. She has black shoes to wear Friday night (some I already had), and I am reminded of what a joy she is to me.

Today, instead of my fat jeans/loose t-shirt outfit I have been wearing incessantly, I put on a pretty shirt, and a pretty pair of pants, and NOT running shoes. I even put on earrings, and felt like an impostor adult for a little white. Amazing what clothes can do for you.

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Commandment #9

THE 9th COMMANDMENT

Thou Shalt Not Bear False Witness (Lie)

Sorry. I've been telling people for quite some time now that The Little Guy threw away one of our tv remotes and one of our telephones. I really believed what I was telling people. I didn't mean to lie. Does that make any difference? I would certainly think so.

Turns out that missing phone (missing for several months) magically reappeared in the kitchen on Sunday. No one in the house seems to know where it came from. Hopefully, none of them are bearing false witness. Two wrongs do NOT make a right, I know.

So, the truth is, I don't think he threw it away. Cause we still have it. The remote is still missing. Not only that, but our DVD remote also recently disappeared. What do you suppose happened?

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Musing about Educational Options for Next Year

We used to say that we would take each child's needs into account each year and do whatever was best for each child, educationally. One year, Kids 1-4 were in public school until fourth quarter, when we withdrew ActionJackson. This was when TheLittleGuy was a newborn, but this was clearly the best thing for ActionJackson.

This past year I have had two children VickiVonVicki (age 15) and The Absent-Minded Professor (age 13) in a homeschool co-op type thing, but it's more like school "light." They go to class two days a week and then work on assignments the other three days. (Theoretically.) ActionJackson (age 12) and WebkinQueen (age 9) have been home full-time along with TheLittleGuy. There have been both pros and cons, but a RILLY RILLY BIG CON has been all the driving I have had to do.

A typical week had me driving the kids 12 miles Monday morning to their classes, working the morning at a part-time job, then hanging around until 2 to drive VVV and her friends another 9 miles to practice. Drive 9 more miles home, then leave shortly thereafter back to class location to pick up AMP from Spanish. Total Monday driving time: 2 hours. Tuesday total driving time: about 1 to 1 1/2 hours. Wednesday: 2 1/2 - 3 hours. Thursday: about 1 1/2 hours unless we had a game in Timbuktu -- add an additional 2 hours. Friday: about 1 to 1/2 hours plus another 2-4 (yes, driving) if we had a game. Did you get all that? Let's add it all up: Some weeks I drove as many as 12-14 hours JUST driving the kids here and there.

After basketball season ended, I began to regain some semblance of sanity, slowly. And I started thinking that maybe it's not worth it for me to drive the kids to these classes twice a week. Maybe I should actually homeschool them at home. I began to look into Sonlight Curriculum.

What I have loved about their classes is the strong emphasis on a Christian worldview. But I don't think this has been the very best setting for the AbsentMindedProfessor. He finds the classes relatively boring, and has a very very hard time getting his work done and turned in all in one fell swoop. I have been a super duper micro-manager this year helping him get his work done and into his backpack.

The schedule for next year is finally posted on the internet. There are two locations for this program and we have gone to the northernmost one, even though the other one is much closer to home. This decision was made due to social considerations.

The closer location has a great schedule next year. VVV would get to take a Christian worldview class from a teacher I GREATLY respect, and AMP could take Spanish III at this location (but not the other). Also, the closer location's meeting days do not conflict with basketball practice days, which would be a great bonus. Another bonus: AMP's composition class would be taught by another teacher from whom I would LOVE for him to learn. Cons include having to get to know a whole new group of kids, and missing friends from the northern location. Plus, at either location, it is a relatively expensive program.

I'm leaning toward putting them back into the program but at the closer location. I know VVV wants to be home full-time, and AMP wants to go back to the farther location, but I would like to have them closer and go on Tues and Thurs rather than Mon and Wed.

Those are my musings for today. VVV and AMP read my blog -- no decisions have been made kids. These are just my thoughts right now.

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I'm Still Here!

Wow, where does the time go?

I thought maybe I'd better post again since it has been 6 days and my immense readership might get discouraged if there's still nothing new to read.

The other night, just days after the giant LEGO shipment went away, my son brought out a LEGO set! Hey, I didn't know we had any more of those?!

I was finishing up going through the photos, and as soon as I finished, I became his "LEGO butler." I looked for the pieces for the next step and had them in a nice little group for him. As he worked, we had a really nice talk about life and stuff. And I realized I had NEVER once worked on LEGOs with the kids over the years. I wonder if that was because there were just way too many.

One little mystery that arose. This set was bought by us on Ebay and did not include the mini-figures. I guess those mini-figures must be bigtime collectible or something. I did have a moment where I wished we had been able to save out a little guy for this set, but we didn't, so I am moving on.

I hope to jazz up my blog this weekend and write some witty and amazingly unforgettable posts as well.

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