Mondayn

It's not Monday, but it's been a while since I blogged and I thought rather than getting out of practice I'd post something mundane. You know, "One man's trash is another man's treasure." You may gather some pearls from our daily lives. From now on I'll try to limit the Mondayn to Mondays. Don't quote me on that.


Today I went out to my car to grab something and it smelled of poop (not the thing I grabbed, the car). Eww. You just said it aloud too.





This does not substantiate the argument with my husband that my beautiful new car does not stink.





So I grabbed every last carseat and tossed it in the bathtub for a soak. Eww. You would have said it again if you saw what I saw when the water accumulated in the bottom of the tub, and again when it drained...

I am a clean person. Type A some might say. So why the denial? Am I numb to my smelly car generally? Does it have to get to the poop-smell stage before I become aware?



Even worse, as I took apart the seats to put the cushions in the washer I realized that Mae's seat had an unusual configuration. Which means that her seat (previously Olivia's), had never been taken apart and cleaned. This is the carseat we got in Seattle when my brother got married because South West annihilated ours en route. Colton got married in '06.

Eww.

Boogey Man Schmoogey Man

1.5 years to be exact. I can tell you all about it now (although most of you reading this witnessed it firsthand anyway).

"Ya' know Jas, I beleive I'd get a doorknob," Said my f-i-l, Grant.

It was sheer laziness and perhaps a deep soul-felt trust in my fellow human beings.

I even asked my neighbor in the midst of the knoblessness to give us a quote on a security system.

I actually almost went out and got a new door just so I wouldn't have to pull the drill out to make the hole in the side standard (for today rather than almost 70 years ago).

Today, having dealt out two of the four banchees I felt I had better do something, so this is what I chose.
After going to Del Taco, e-mailing, checking FB 82 times, and complaining I had nothing to do.

Jason thinks it ought to be a good selling feature to be able to say that we had no doorknob for 18 months and not one problem to speak of.

I heart my commmunity.

School Day #1

I dropped off my kid's at school today the same way a normal person drops off her kindergartner in September. I only cried when Isaac's teacher was so ever-loving kind to him it broke my heart.

Liv's teachers were a little pissed. Pardon the French, but I believe they were. When I taught at Grant I'd have probably been as well. As it happened, I did have a home-schooler brought to me in the middle of the year, and he caught on immediately with what we were doing and it went swimmingly.

My first conversation with one of Liv's teachers went a little something like this...

"I tested her reading."
"uh-huh."
"She's behind."
"uh-huh." (you mean like I told you this morning when I dropped her off?)
"I mean VERY behind."
"uh-huh."
"I don't have anyone else in my class that low."
"Yup. I had her speech tested and she's got some form of auditory comprehension disability, but they didn't get too in-depth as she was going to a private school and they only tested her to see if she'd get resource help for a scholarship. I spoke to the school speech therapist and we've got an idea of what it is that slows her reading. We're going to have her tested to see just what she needs so she can be helped while she's at school."
"She's only reading on a first grade level."
"uh-huh." I've taught her for a year myself. I know what level she's reading at. My first grader has surpassed her.
"And why does she write in cursive?"
"That's what we taught at the Montessori school. It's easier for little scribblers (and it's just plain pretty, I should have added). Is it a problem for her to write in cursive?"
It was her turn this time, "uh-huh."
"Won't she be doing only cursive next year?"
again, "uh-huh."
"But for now she can't?"
"Un-uh"
"Well I guess we'll work on her printing."
"She's really low. Do you think her cursive has interfered with her reading?"
"Absolutely not. She always reads books in print. Always reads my work in cursive and she reads both on the same level. If anything it shows more intelligence that she can "translate". I'm a certified (well, it's expired, so I guess I'm not), teacher.
-Meaning I'm not some schmuck off the streets wanting to stay up late and sleep in, travel whenever I want to, and have my children make leather wallets to sell on Ebay. Although 2/3 are wonderful benefits to homeschooling. Besides, any schmuck would know a 1st-2nd grade level curriculum. Not that he'd want to teach it, but still.

I have the other teacher thinking Montessori is of the devil. I really need to keep my mouth shut or keep running it until it is all out on the carpet. I've sent my kids from one philosophy to the next. They won't converge for many moons, or some might argue, not at all.

Moral: It was the first day of school in the middle of the school year (and I am a schmuck for that). Can we give eachother a break?

So, while the learning we've done (and continue to do), at home focuses on one thing or another, I can probably be assured that it won't be the same thing focused on at "the big school" that Olivia has so longingly called it for the last couple years. I'll probably have a few more conversations about what Olivia knows or doesn't know, but, as of tomorrow I won't take it personally and I won't give it either. Let's just help these kiddos learn and be happy.

My feel-goods are really tender right now, so go easy on me. It's taken exactly one year for me to determine that I'm not a nice enough to teach my kids. It takes a special person, or at least someone not as anal retentive.

I've reached the conclusion that my relationship with my children will always trump the benefits of homeschool (even as they all come flooding into my consciousness and I woefully push them back). I kept giving it "one more day", one more prayer to get myself together, but as all of the neighborhood probably knows, every day it was one reason or another that I lost my temper with a student/the love of my life.

So here's to trying and moving on to better ways. I'll be so sad to let them go for the better part of the day, but to be honest, walking into that school to get the registration paperwork brought back some sweet memories that I hope my kids will enjoy also. Hopefully when everyone is literate and such (anger management classes ;]), we'll give it another go. For now, I get a big fat F in homeschooling.

Christmas '09

Christmas Rewind...

swdlolrrllrrpopp! (rewind sound)

Lego Rock Band (Thanks a MILLION Uncle Colt and Aunt Lisa), jam with our buddy Zach on guitar. Notice the technique.

Chloe playing Lego Rock Band.

The song of choice is "We will, wE wiLl Rock YOu!"




The aftermath. Taken with my new Nikon 10-24mm wide angle lens from by sweetheart. He always knows. How does he always know?

Georgia could just not get enough. We had her unwrapping presents for everyone to try to satiate her.

This one, who looks like she should be on the short bus, perused the goods without a sound on her new pony, eating organic fruit twists, mittens still attached to her new snow hat.

What do you get the men who have everything? Coveralls and...

Hair clippers. I'm a lame present giver.

Santa's Thank-you note.

The calm before the storm. Taken by me, wishing I had a wide-angle lens.

This was he first year things really started to get tough for Santa and his helpers. It's rough trying to be that sneaky.

P.S. Grandma and Grandpa are spoilers!!!

Go Forth...

Read this...

Be better.