Sweet, Sweet Six

Six? Wow. He's so happy about it. We are, too. We're just a bit caught off guard. Six? I blame Jess and Andie for letting their kids turn six. Then everybody wants to jump on the bandwagon and do it, too. (Keep 'em off the bridges, okay, guys?)
Since we're *still* in the middle of the Mad Rush To Finish, we all agreed that a belated, joint party, later would be best. When we're done with the Madness and the Rushing and can relax a bit. He was good with that. So very good with that, really. But still... *today* was his birthday.
So this morning, there were fudge ripple pancakes (from The Plant That Ate Dirty Socks), and there was singing, and there were phone calls that made him smile a sheepish smile.
For tonight, he picked shrimp scampi, with salad and garlic bread for supper. And for his cake? Cheesecake. The four-pack sampler from Sam's, to be specific. I love that kid, and his taste in food.
And now, he is six.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

(The pics are bad b/c they're from my phone. The camera finally died a horrific death and needs to be shuffled off to ICU. Later. After the rushing and the madness have died down, and I can get it boxed up.)

First Grade for Smidge

That's such a weird sensation. *pause to reflect how quickly it goes. pause, pause, pause* OK, not getting any easier. Let's move on, anyway.

He's pretty much following the path his brothers have packed down ahead of him, with variations to account for support where he needs it, and leeway where I wish I'd given it with the older two. Not a lot of "seat time". Plenty of "couch time". Lots of "outside time" (when it cools off a bit). This isn't Victorian England, and I don't have a stash of opium, so we don't have the pastoral scenes of young children learning that one might expect or desire. We have a lot of paper, tons of colored pencils and drawing materials, books absolutely *everywhere*, and I think there's Sculpey stuck to the bathroom wall. (I don't know how or why. I quit asking years ago.)

Science is Life. Particularly at this age. It's Parables From Nature. It's a magnifying glass and an afternoon on the floor with encyclopedias and Mom. It's drawings and rabbit trails. Leaves and seeds and flowers and fruit. Eggs and larvae and things you probably don't want in your home. It's antibacterial soap and a lot of deep, slow breathing.

Math-U-See Alpha is math for Smidge. It's his happy spot. He enjoyed Primer, learned plenty, and was anxious to start in his new book. (Comes by that last bit honestly. We all just love a fresh, new book, around here. It's almost, but not quite, a sickness.)

Music and Art are still a bit haphazard, here. Although we do still enjoy Artistic Pursuits and Meet the Great Composers, so he'll continue to use those in a light and painfully unstructured way.

For History, I feel like I ought to go back and start him with Vol. I of Story of the World. We had such a good time with that. Then I realize what a scheduling nightmare I'd be inventing for myself. It's not as if he hasn't been listening in along the way, and I have to remind myself (sometimes forcibly) that he's putting up pegs on which to hang future information. Since he draws Hammurabi cartoons, explains how a trebuchet works, and makes jokes about privateers, I'm guessing he's been listening - at least peripherally - and has been, quite happily, slinging pegs here and there along the way. So he's doing Modern Times with us, at a slower, softer pace.

For Reading, Phonics, Spelling, and so forth, I still cannot recommend The Writing Road to Reading highly enough. It is thorough, concise, and well done. And, with apologies to Ms. Spalding, I modify it to suit our needs. Smidge needs extra work on his speech, so this is where I put that in, too. More focus on speech, less on reading for him than is usual.

Copywork, copying the work you're reading together, is the absolute best at this age. Pick the things you enjoyed as you read. Write them out, let them copy, and then turn them loose to illustrate it. Some children love coloring books. So far, none of mine really have. Smidge seems the closest, but even he will draw his own illustrations quite happily. Put them up. I have no clue what color my fridge used to be. Someday, the weight of the tape, magnets and paper will pull the door off, I'm sure, and then we'll remove the pictures and narrations and copy work and see what it looks like. Before we cover it up again.

A note on reading. (Pardon me while I pull out my little soapbox. It's just a little one.) The reading comes. Whether it comes when they are two, four, six, or seven, it does come. Read aloud to them. Tell stories. Make up stories. Let language fill your days and nights. Create for them a world rich in literary texture, tastes, and images, and they'll want to make it their own. You've got a big old bag full of tools to share along the way, and yes, show them those tools. Explain how they work. But if it doesn't click, don't get angry or frustrated. Put the tools away and dive back into the words for a while. Try again later. Definitely keep your eyes open for places where there may be trouble, and address those spots if you find them, but always remember that reading is a gift we can cultivate in their hearts, as well as their minds. It's interesting to me that that's the one area I've never sweated, and it's the one area I have no/few regrets now that I'm in a position to start looking back. I have a horrible suspicion I'll find many other areas where I will wish I'd applied this philosophy a bit more soundly. (Sheepishly tucks soapbox back under the desk.)

Literature. Such a word! For the Littles, it makes it sound much less enjoyable than it is! There are book lists and book lists and book lists. I can't even pretend to know a tenth of what's out there, and when I try to collect it all, Zorak inevitably finds me curled up on the porch, feverishly figuring out what we'd have to sell or go without in order to BUY IT ALL RIGHT NOW. So. I try not to peruse more than one or two lists at a time. Zorak appreciates that, and so does my blood pressure. I like Veritas Press' reading lists, and of course, The Baldwin Project's books are big favorites, here, too. If you find something at Baldwin Project that you'd like to have in print, Yesterday's Classics offers many titles. We've ordered from them, and have always had great service. The books are decent quality softcover books. Lang's Fairy Books are also a staple.

For an all-in-one collection at this stage, the 20th Century Children's Book Treasury is my all-time favorite collection. It gets read, and read, and loved on and read. The binding is crap, and the book won't last through three children before Chicka-Chicka Boom-Boom and part of Swimmy fall out in the hallway. But I haven't found a collection of favorites like this anywhere else. Even Zorak got excited when we received this book, years ago. (Who knew he had such a soft spot for Sylvester?) Ideally, we'd all be able to buy all the books individually, but realistically that's an investment of almost $1,000 all said and done. And you know, if I'm going to lay out a grand for a book collection, it'll be the one *I've* been coveting for almost a decade now, thanks. This, however, does the trick quite nicely. And, as True Favorites emerge, you can pick them up here and there without giving anybody involved in the household finances a stroke. There's that.

Poetry. Don't scoff. (OK, go ahead and scoff, but come back. I'll wait.) Poetry. Charlotte Mason's educational philosophy incorporates daily poetry. As with anybody who has homeschooled more than, say, six months, I've read her papers, poked around Ambleside Online, fallen in love with it, and eventually abandoned it, in general, taking precious gems with me back to my eclectic educational cave. Poetry was one of those gems. It doesn't have to be dry or dull. Hilaire Belloc, Mother Goose, Robert Lewis Stevenson - whimsical, beautiful, rich poetry is available and wonderful for use in daily life. I can tell you this: the best year we've ever had, as far as routine, tone, flavor, and pace, was the year we incorporated poetry into our daily routine. We are bringing it back this year. It was that good.

The bulk of our school is reading, even at this age. When they're older, they read and we discuss. When they're younger, we read together and we discuss. When they're younger, I read to them and we discuss. It looks different at every stage, but you'd be hard pressed to find me, at any stage, putting us in a circle, clipboard on my lap, peering over imaginary spectacles as I toss out a topic and say, in the manner of James Lipton, "Why?" More likely is that Zorak comes home to find us piled up in the boys' room, or the living room, talking animatedly about whatever it was that struck our fancies.

Mostly, it's an organic flow of discussion. Questions, point-counterpoint, more rabbit trails, bantering, back and forth, and always, in the end, more reading. When you care what they think, what they liked, and what they got out of it, they know. And they're happy to share. This is what I'm talking about when I tell people that homeschooling is a lifestyle more than just an exercise in academics. It's how we do things, and who we are, part and parcel, inseparable. Sometimes, you'll want to bang your head against the wall, but not right now (I'll go into that more on the appropriate entry, later). Right now, it's all magic. It's all new and exciting and interesting.

And, I think that's about it, for First Grade.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy

And then a week later...

Good heavens, where has the week gone?

Granny, brother-in-law, and his friend left tonight for a straight 20-hour drive home. It was hard to see them go, but the friend is anxious to be home. In the week he's been gone, his family has been under evacuation for wild fires, he had a ton of work come into his shop, and then one of his littles fell ill with a mystery illness. If you would, please say a prayer that they'll arrive home, safe and sound, with good tailwinds to urge them on.

I can't believe how quickly the week flew! The kids had a wonderful time, wallowing in Granny's affections. Granny had a wonderful time soaking up the children and all their joyful love. Zorak and I accomplished an unbelievable amount of work, since Granny was able to make sure the children were not starving, or killing one another, or dismantling the foundations of the house while we worked.

Granny said next time she comes, she's coming in April. Or January. Or the middle of the night. Whenever it's not hot'n'sticky. Poor Granny.

We got the first half of the stain on the balcony (seven hours of squatting, kneeling, and stooping -- my thighs feel like I've been chased cross country by Susan Powter), and we put up the first 80-thousand or so pickets. It's very nearly Jason-proof, if he stays in the corner that's finished, anyway, and looks spectacular. If you look in the corner that's finished.

We cleared enough limbs and vines and brambles from the creek bank that we unearthed a little sandy, beach-like area. It's full of dragonflies and spring frogs and birds. It's shady and quiet. We sat down with the kids, and it was so idyllic that it took an act of God to get us up and moving again. (Mosquitoes, to be precise.)

We hung a tire swing down by the barn. The kids have played more on that this week than they have on the swing set in the back yard in the last two years.

We found a bridge! There's a bridge across the creek! Four years here, and I'm pretty sure I never knew that. Zorak knew, and he swears I knew, but it didn't ring a bell with me, at all.

So, we're making more progress on the property. And I seem to be delving into early senility. Good to know.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

On reading, flasks, and limbs

Zorak was gone all last week. You'd think we'd have taken that time to be productive and industrious. Or get out and explore. Or maybe even blog. No? Good call. We did nothing. We ate, read, cleaned a bit, read some more, ate a bit while we read, napped... we accomplished a little less than diddly, without any squat. It was heavenly.

But he's home now, and Granny is coming. The kids are beside themselves with anticipation. They're also lobbying for a calendar that's marked off in hourly increments, so they can tick those off, instead of having to wait for an Entire Daaayyyy to pass, first. The wait is killing them.

Meanwhile, the preparations are killing me. Not so much for Granny (although I do want to have the house clean for her, she knows I'm no Donna Reed, and I'm lucky to have a mother-in-law who is coming to see us, not the house). Moreso because Zorak's brother is bringing a friend-we-haven't-met-before. And while you don't mind family seeing your general squalor, it's a totally different thing for a stranger.

Come to think of it, I wonder if that's why he's bringing a friend? That's a pretty good way to make sure the accommodations are tip-top, eh? Hmmmm. I need to find a stranger for our next big trip...

Either way, it worked. I finally (almost a year later...) got the elastic and velcro on the couch slip cover. Might even wash it, if I'm feeling motivated tomorrow. And while I had the couch upside down, I was able to talk Zorak into fixing the broken leg. (Happy Coincidence, or Brilliant Design? You decide.)

OK, happy coincidence. You know us well, my friends.

ANYway. The Summer Reading Kick-Off was not bad. They had a ventriloquist who focused mostly on books, stories, fairy tales, etc. He was engaging, and good with the kids. Just as I was thinking we'd get out without a visit from the Bad Idea Fairy, they passed out otter pops immediately after the performance. Otter Pops. For the kids to eat *inside* the library. I made our kids put them back while we made our book selections, and then twitched my way across the library, watching all the other kids slurping, dripping, and flinging their way amongst the books. Why not set the cooler by the door, and hand out the goodies as people leave? Thinking about it still makes my eye twitch, almost a week later.

I'm toying with the idea of taking the kids to Shakespeare on the Mountain. They're doing The Merry Wives of Windsor, set in 1950's Miami, "with tributes to American TV Classics". I'm not a purist... but, evidently I'm close. I can't quite get excited about this one. Still haven't made up my mind. There are only two more show dates, though, so I've got to decide soon. James would love it, regardless. John might enjoy it. Smidge is happy, no matter what we do, as long as he's involved. Or gets a passable alternative to enjoy.

One would think, considering the amount of decluttering I've done (not last week, but today, at any rate), I'd have found my camera software. But, no. It looks like I'm going to have to call and beg them to send me a new disk. Maybe they can throw in a better filing and storage system, while they're at it? That'd be handy.

OK, morning comes early when you don't get to bed until it's on the porch.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

A Weekend To Remember

The first words Zorak spoke this morning were, "I'm getting old, aren't I?"

And men say we ask no-win questions? I wish he'd just asked me if his jeans make his butt look fat. I mean, technically, yes. (On getting old, not looking fat. He looks great. And I know better than to ask - either question.) The whole birthday observance does tend to note such an accomplishment as surviving another year. That yearly survival thing is tantamount to getting older.

But on several levels, I do wish he'd be a bit more cheerful about it. First, it beats the alternative. Second, um, I'm not far behind, and I'd rather not face my ensuing birthdays with the fear that he thinks I'm getting old. Gah. Way to set the bar, honey. Happy Birthday.

Zorak half-jokingly confided that he has a plan to arrive 20 minutes late for church, which puts us in about halfway through the opening prayer. PCA'ers do love their corporate prayer, that's for sure. We nailed it today, and slipped in (as quietly as seven people can slip into a completely silent room that has no sound dampening). Church was lovely. You know you have a good preacher when the verses are Genesis 46:8-27, and he can actually make an interesting, applicable sermon out of it.

We spent the rest of the afternoon trying to convince ourselves that we should go out and work. But it was "warm" out. And when it stopped being "warm" (yes, I'm using euphemisms), the "vampires" were out. So. We stayed inside and worked. Hung out. Played a bit. It was, after a holiday of sorts, right?

James lost a tooth this weekend.
John lost two teeth this weekend.
Smidge is just dying of anticipation over tournaments and the team party.
Jason FINALLY started walking today.
Emily is one tired child, trying to keep up with her brothers.
AND, I have to find the disks for my camera, because this computer doesn't have the stuff it needs to upload pictures from the camera or the memory card. So, no pictures just yet. (If you know where I've put it, though, please shoot me an email, okay?)

And so ends another weekend. As usual, we did not accomplish all that we hoped we would. We did accomplish the important things, though - time with the kids, and getting the skivvies washed for the week. Good stuff, that.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

And We Wonder Why They Get Confused

I'll set the stage:

James and John are at the table, completing their writing work for the day.

I'm working in the kitchen.

Smidge and Emily are riding a tricycle/chasing one another around the house.

Jase is eating something nobody can remember giving him, and providing general background noise.
*************************************************************

Em asks Smidge to wait. He ignores her. She tells him to wait. He goes a few more feet before stopping, but still doesn't acknowledge her with his words. She shrieks. He hollers.

I take a deep breath and remind everybody that this nonsense of ignoring one another simply has. to. stop. Like yesterday. Thank you.

Smidge, Em and Jase return to their regularly scheduled noise making.

James asks if he can write now.

What? Of course you can.

Well, it's just hard to concentrate with you talking to the littles every few minutes.

(And you see this coming, don't you?)

Well, honey, you're just going to have to learn to ignore me.

Thankfully, he cracked up and got back to writing. It could have gone horribly awry.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Wha--?

It's nearly next year! My Event Smidge broke. It's buried somewhere beneath the Playmobil and the bean bag, neither of which I've been able to extricate him from for the last few days. So that means that at the end of the day, when I look quite bleary-eyed at the computer and think, "Ah, I can blog tomorrow," it means I have no. clue. how long it's been since I blogged. (Ya think?)

Oh, I do hope you all had a lovely Christmas. Or Solstice. Or Hannukah. I think we've even blown off Learn a Foreign Language Month since the last time y'all heard from me. Yeesh. But ya know what I've been doing?

Eating leftovers. (Leftover sirloin and roast asparagus beats the snot out of leftover turkey, I don't care who you are!)

Stealing bean bags from small children. (When Granny ok'd the buying of the bean bags as her gift, I SO should've angled to get me one, too. Do you remember how much fun they were when you were a kid? They're just as good when you're a grown-up, too! Zorak and I dragged them into the playroom to watch a movie, just the two of us, the other night. Totally fantastic gift, if you're looking for something to give.) Me-Tae figured out that if you stack two of them, you have a decent fascimile of a reclining lounger. Emily has napped in her bean bag every day since Christmas. It's the cutest stinkin' thing I've seen since... well, there's just an enormous amount of cute to trip on, around here.

Eyeballing the tree. And, for the first time in over a decade of Holiday Festivity Negotiations, I do believe I beat Zorak to the "let's take the tree down now" speech. Yeah, he couldn't believe it, either. But then, it went up before Christmas Eve. There was no harrowing search for a tree, no coughing up money better spent on chocolate, no delightful Festivus-style Airing of Grievances over decorating, and so... I'm sated. Content. Got my fill, and am ready to put my bookshelf back by the couch, where it belongs, thanks.

Then there's the cleaning. But that's not pleasant to discuss. And it never lasts long enough for me to provide tangible proof. But we had company on Christmas, and then again the day after, and then we're going away for a bit. So. You know, that's more cleaning than any one person should reasonably do. Ever. And that's all I'm going to say on that topic.

And right now, that's all I'm going to say, in general. Not because I don't care, but because it's cold, and Zorak just got the fire going, and it's warmer over there. So. See you tomorrow!

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Thanksgiving Pictures

John learned how to make carved flowers. I didn't get a picture of the end result because, well, because I have five children and some of them were puking and somehow, "grab the camera!" just doesn't spring to mind in that situation. However, the lure of carving was enough to drag him off the couch. You can tell he doesn't feel well, but he's also content.

Jase learned to crawl. Whether it was an attempt to keep up or get away, we aren't sure. He had a really great time, though. (That's a cousin Em's age who's "helping" him along. Or thwarting his escape...)

James is still working on perfecting The Ultimate Camera Smile...

Cousin Veronica VERY graciously allowed her stash of non-shattering ornaments to be used by all. I'm thinking we'll need to get a box of these this year, because I just don't think it'll go so well with Grandma's glass ornaments...

We pulled up to find the porch lit with luminarias. It was a warm fuzzy. It's nice to have family out here that loves the traditions from back there like we do. (I also love that these are electric. Adobe isn't such a fire hazard, but out here, where everything's made of wood, it's nice to avoid open flames whenever possible.)

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Funday Sunday

Heh, you can mock. I couldn't think up a decent title. I'm beat. Happy, but beat. We had such a great time today. Ben and Claudia, et al., came over to carve pumpkins and have supper! I had helpers in the kitchen while we got ready for company...

Once they got here, the kids got to get messy and gross, and they worked quite diligently on their pumpkins...

And in the end, we had a lovely evening by the fire(s)...

Food, friendship, life... it's good.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy
(P.S. I figured out the watermark feature, but it seems to be a bit of a PITB to use. Bummer.)

Busy, Busy

Has it been four days? Sorry 'bout that. With Zorak out of town, and new schedules all-around, I lost track of time. However, he's back, we're all rested up, and we just had the best Saturday!

James and I headed into town early for his Citizenship badge service project. He picked the project, and put it together on his own - making contacts, getting all the legwork done. It was hideously difficult for me to let go and let him handle it all (and I didn't hit it spot on, at first, but eventually I did my part and got out of his way). He did his part and pulled it off splendidly.

We arrived in time to help unload the truck and set up (this was for Angel Food Ministries). Then we spent the next three hours putting together food boxes and assisting customers with hauling things to their cars. I didn't take any pictures because we were too busy learning the ropes and trying to stay helpful. Well, James stayed helpful. I hung out in my corner, drinking coffee and hauling heavy things when needed. He was the brains of this organization. He just took me along for the muscle and the driver's license.

From there, we headed to the downtown Fall Festival in Decatur. Nothing like sugar, costumes, sugar, music,

and a little more sugar, to make a day fun!

Yes, those are basically Pixie-Sticks, but the tube is the diameter of a Sharpie, and as long as a twirling baton. WEEEE! Interestingly, it was the church we've been attending that had this set-up. I think we may let the kids have their sticks for breakfast before church tomorrow... just as a thank-you to the Children's Minister. ;-) (I jest - she planned for the kids to eat them on the spot and then just ping up and down the street until the effects wore off, I'm sure.)

The weather was gorgeous, just cool enough to necessitate a hat for Jase. You know, those just don't work so well once they've been chewed on for an hour or two. Ew.

Ben and Claudia brought their kids. The sheer mass of children vibrating around created some serious momentum, so we adults just wandered along behind - it was like a cattle drive, but without horses, and it smelled better. Just as noisy. But, oh-so-cute!

Kiss those babies!

~Dy

He Has Your Quirks

Ever notice how much time people spend analyzing babies? ~ Oh, he looks just like his Daddy! ~ Aw, she has your thinning hair. ~ He's built just like great-great-granddaddy's side of the family. It's like playing with those build-a-creature books. Remember those? The head of an aligator, torso of a hippo, legs of an emu. You could be the next Andy Warhol, or the next Dr. Moreau. Either way, it's fun.

But what about temperament? Y'all ever parse that one out? Zorak and I do. And not just to blame each other for the more interesting qualities that emerge in the children, either. We're both honest enough to willingly chuckle and say, "Oh, yeah, sorry 'bout that." But it's not really something we give much thought to until it's staring us in the face (or mortifying us in public).

Zorak's gone right now, and I miss him, but the day-to-day is not as challenging as one might think. For when one of us is away, the other one is free to get it done (or blow it off) according to his (or her...) own natural bent. It's not ideal. I'd much rather spend the next eight decades compromising, and for the most part, we do it so well that I forget about some of the differences until he's gone.

So tonight, after an early supper, a quick house tidy, a short movie and/or story, the lights went out with all the children kissed, snuggled, and tucked in, at 8:32. (My i-d-e-a-l evening, lemme tell ya!) I've had time to think back on the kids, who made me laugh a lot today. They are funny, witty, quirky. They could make the Pope think dark thoughts, and they could make Scrooge feel warm and fuzzy and generous. All in one fell swoop.

I can see myself in them, and I can see Zorak in them. Uncle Creighton, Aunt Sally, Granny, some cousin I vaguely remember meeting when I was 12. It all comes together to make distinct, unique, amazing people.

And then, because I had WAY more time on my hands than I normally do, I started wondering about my parents. How did this happen? How did I happen? What will pass through to the kids, and what will get filtered out by more dominant genes?

My mother was a pack rat with the kind of kitchen table that you were welcome to sit at, but there was no guarantee you could set your coffee cup there. Same thing with the counter tops, the washing machine, dressers, shelves. Oh, the woman loved her horizontal surfaces and paper goods. She wrote beautiful letters. Every morning began with a cup of coffee and a letter. She loved to laugh, even at herself. She loved to cook, and by extension to feed people. She didn't have to know who you were, just show up around meal time. Or earlier. Or later. If you left her place hungry, it wasn't going to be her fault.

My father, from what I've heard, was a strict disciplinarian with a firm belief in order, self-discipline, punctuality, (Yeah, I know. If it weren't for the whole genetic combination feature, I would have inquired about the personality of the milk man, just out of curiosity), fortitude and self-reliance. He valued integrity above sentiment, loyalty above whimsy, and honesty above all else. He wasn't so hot with keeping in touch. He was fiercely devoted and doting, but also set the bar pretty high for those around him, as well as for himself.

But what do you get when you cross those two? You get a person who disdains clutter of any form, has no emotional attachments to things that require dusting, yet harbors an utterly irrational fondness for stationery products. Paper, pens, envelopes. And stranger still, can't seem to put a stamp on something and part with it to save my soul.

You get a control freak who wants things done "Just So", yet wings it, herself, every time. There is no recipe I cannot alter, no process I cannot botch, no system I cannot over-analyze. But if I'm going to make it up, then I'm going to make it up "my way".

You get a scheduling list-maker who was late to her own wedding. (HOW does that happen?)

You get someone who is totally, utterly, completely loyal and devoted, who loves wholeheartedly. But more directly, you get someone who gets that to put up with me can be a challenge that deserves rewarding. And then some, I'm sure. My parents seemed so normal. I guess you just never know what you'll get.

So while it's nice to have things all Spartany and done once in a while, I much prefer the compromise. I hope the kids got a good lot of Zorak to carry them through. A little quiet humor to counteract the hypertension, a little easygoing sway to balance out the rigid spontaneity (in itself, an enigma), a touch of gentleness to overlook the control issues.

The double dose of fortitude, loyalty, love, and integrity won't hurt. But when it comes to organization, punctuality, or attention to detail, well, they'd best hope they marry into those qualities. 'Cuz they just didn't get those genes from us.

Kiss those babies!~Dy

We're Back!

We meant to be back days ago. This is what happens when procrastinators marry.

Melissa got it right - we got to see Mere, from The Ugly Trunk. The trunk is so cute in real life, but it's abso-stinkin-lutely nothing compared to her kids! And seeing all eight of them running around, playing Legos, playing chess, playing some random ball-kicking game - oh, that was almost too much cute for me to handle. The kids could be cousins, they have so many of the same mannerisms. Mere is, of course, elegant and sweet and fun. And oh, so patient. And her husband, bless him, was such a trooper in letting the whole horde descend upon his house with all of our lateness and loudness and messiness.

We also got to have lunch with Rebel, of The Looney Bin, while we were out there. She is so sweet and so gracious, and knows all the totally rockin' joints to eat at in her neck of the woods!

Granny came and met us in Waco, so we had two wonderful days with her. Then she drove with us to see Great-Granny (or, Granny the Younger, as she's a mere 94 years young - longevity seems to run in Zorak's blood), and Aunt Veda. It was fun, fun, fun. John contemplated smuggling a goat back with him. Thankfully, he had only his backpack and there was no way he could have hidden the whole goat in there.

From there, it was off to Arkansas, where we rounded off the trip with more cousins. Would you believe we were thisclose to New Mexico and I had to go all the way back to Arkansas to get chile rellenos? Oh, they were good. I'll be stuffed for another week, at least. This was the first time we've had to really spend any time with these cousins, and it was such a treat for us. They opened their home so warmly, and the kids were completely taken up with their lifestyle, even down to getting up early to work with the animals. (We emptied the van tonight when we got home and didn't find any puppies, kittens or chickens, so I think we're good.)

The children have named every animal they've come in contact with this week. And now I think they're totally on board with some of our more Out There projects, which is good, because I'm still mildly terrified of birds, so they'll need to be pretty involved.

It was a fantastic trip, but we're glad to be home. Jase didn't sleep the last four nights of the trip - which means I didn't sleep, either. And so, I'm going to finish this cup of coffee and see about rectifying that. I'll upload pictures tomorrow, while we recuperate.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Never Stop Being Willing to Smile

We're still exhausted, but we're back in the swing of things. Piano, scouts, school, chores. It's good, but it feels a little Blah. Today, it felt a little oh-so-help-me-I-can-send-you-to-Mexico-and-start-over! Still, there's plenty to make us smile. Today was grocery day, which means fresh fruits and milk - that makes us smile. Tomorrow is Friday, bringing us three days with Zorak and with friends - that makes us smile.
AND, we discovered where Santa works in the off-season!
Check it out:

That *has* to be the REAL Santa, right there. He was jolly and sweet, too.
(Just like I knew he'd be! *sniff, sniff*)

Aunt Linda also had a really great time. You just have to love this shot. Zorak had taken Em on the elephant ride, and when he got off, he said, "Man, that ride is AWESOME! You guys have to check it out!" (Evidently, it goes surprisingly fast for a kiddie ride, and you can control how high your elephant goes. Always a bonus.) Aunt Linda took him up on it.

Be willing to laugh. Be willing to enjoy these things. Oh, it's so worth it! (And then, when you have days like we had today, you can draw on the laughter and the memories and push through. You know, instead of just leaving the children strategically along the market aisles until they start to think you might really leave them and decide to shape up.)
Kiss those babies!
~Dy

The thing about life

Sometimes we watch other people, and think how nice it would be to live our lives in that kind of high-glam, thrills-a-minute existence. It's better than watching MST3K, or more depressing than watching Sex and the City. Either way, we keep watching...

And sometimes, it's easy to then look around at the chaos of our own lives, and get impatient with the responsibilities we have. Particularly in our little charges. We start thinking about how some people can pee in peace, or eat badly without feeling like a guilty hypocrite, or do what they want to do when they want to do it because they don't have anybody they're responsible for. And when what we really want to do is live off of boxed wine, Susy Q's, and rare t-bone steaks (or, that could be just me), we have to put down the book, and haul ourselves up off the couch to fix food, wipe noses and butts, explain things again and again (again), stand firm...

and be nice about it.

And it's easy to think that there's got to be something better. Somewhere. Somehow. Something we're missing, or missing out on, that we can never recapture. It's true that every choice we make indicates a choice we didn't opt for. Every responsibility we take on necessarily takes other options off the table. Call it a trade-off, call it choosing your path. Call it whatever you want, it can be frustrating.

But if we can, we need to look hard and long at what we're choosing, and what it will grow, what it will yield. When we can be honest about who we will become in those choices, and who we will impact in those choices, suddenly the choices become easier to make. Easier to embrace. Easier to be thankful for, added responsibilities, communal latrines, and all.


Because this doesn't just happen. This is the kind of thing that takes time and love to grow. It takes security and affection to thrive. Those things don't exist in a self-absorbed vacuum. They exist when we bring them to the table. When we nurture them in our own choices, in our own actions. They come to life when we put them into action, into life. Because this is it. This is life. This is what it's about. Not just parenting. Perhaps not even parenting. But life, family, friends. Love. Devotion. Doing what needs to be done because it needs to be done and we can do it. Sometimes we are the only ones who are supremely equipped to do it, whether we know it or not.

Because we may begrudge putting down the book or foregoing the t-bone. But we will never regret doing the right thing. And sometimes we may get grumpy. Or whiny. (Again, that could be just me.) But we get over it, and we move on. And that's the good stuff. That what makes us, at the end of the line, look back and say, "It was a good life." Having someone still with you at the end to hear you say it, or being the person there to hear it said, well, that's kind of the point, isn't it?
As always, kiss those babies!
~Dy

Home Again, Home Again, Jiggety Jog

Actually, if you asked me to jog right now, I'd glare at you. Or, at least I'd think about glaring at you. But I don't have the energy to do more than that. Please don't ask me to jog.

We are home. Two very full days at Dollywood. One day at Splash Country. Five sunburned kids (even SPF30 has its limits - but it's nowhere near as bad as the lobster children I brought back from Florida a couple years ago, so I have minimal guilt this time). One lobster-mom - again, the limits of SPF - you just can't expose fish-belly white skin to the sun all at once, no matter how well you slather on the cream, you know. Zorak, who has had the foresight to work on the balcony without his shirt most of the summer, was able to even out his tan, and emerge quite bronzed and notburned. Pfftt.

We got to stop in at the Smoky Mountain Knife Works on the way back. This is Zorak's very favorite place to shop. Or at least it's in the top five.

Gram has good days and not-so-good days. It's a little scary on the not-so-good days, but like Aunt B said, she has those at home, too. The RV is so self-contained that she can be just as comfortable on the road. And when she's lucid, she loves to know that she's out and about. She loved the magnolia blooms, and the tall oaks. She loved reminiscing when the things she saw in TN reminded her of her time in VA and VT. She enjoyed watching the kids play, and she really wants to take BabyGirl home with her. Aunt B asked her last week what she'd do with her once she got her, and Gram said, "Well, I don't know. But I want her." Today she had a good day, and we were able to talk and visit for quite some time.

We think Aunt Linda has had a really good visit. She's always busy, doing something, or touching base with her daughters and friends back home. She tidies up a bit, writes some cards, holds the baby, and then starts all over again. I hope I'm doing that well, and can find that much joy in daily life, when I'm her age.

Aunt B needs a day at a spa, a really nice bottle of wine, and a book that's so funny it makes you laugh until you cry. But she probably won't take it. Gram had a bad night Friday night, and she stayed home from going to the park on Saturday. She worries. She's a caregiver, in the truest sense of the word, and even when she's exhausted and ready to drop, she takes a deep breath and keeps working. I wish like the dickens I could find a way to help her out, give her a breather, and help make her feel appreciated. Haven't hit on anything yet, but I'm not going to stop brainstorming for something.

I'm not sure the Aunts will ever want to travel with the Family Circus again- we're a loud, sleepy, vociferous, slow-moving, really vocal troupe. (Did I mention the decibel level? Whew, that'll do some damage to your hearing.) However, we had such a nice time. This isn't something we'd have ever gotten around to doing, I don't think. And now, we have. And we'd love to do it again!

The kids are all overwhelmed, exhausted, slightly crispy, a wee bit dehydrated (in spite of sucking down the water - sometimes you just cannot keep up), and all things considered, they held it together incredibly well. We even survived supper at the Cracker Barrel tonight with only one minor meltdown, and that was just a misunderstanding which was easily rectified and ended with smiles and snuggles.

I'll upload pictures tomorrow (today?) after we've unpacked and tidied a bit. Sit right down with a fresh pot of coffee and my USB cable and just go to town on it! (And hey, Erin, I did take pictures of the other four children, even!)

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Kamping

No, I haven't forgotten how to spell. I haven't even just decided it'd be fun to spell random words incorrectly (although it probably would be). We really are Kamping. And you know it's not like real camping, because this is way too swanky. And a little kitschy. Perhaps even... well, before I go overboard, let's just say it's a K-kinda word. As in KOA Kamping Kabins. (Nobody should make that much money off of bad spelling.) I haven't been in a KOA for more than two decades. Maybe three. Wow. Why not!?!? This is the way. to. go.
so, to recap:
Thursday: 1 RV, 2 dogs, 5 kids (10 people total), 300 miles... and we're in Pigeon Forge! The trip -- surprisingly low-key and non-scary. I don't know if it's Aunt B's calming influence, or if we're just starting to figure this thing out. Whatever it is, once in a while, you hit on something that just really clicks.

Friday: Dollywood! Aunt B stayed with Gram to help her rest up. We took aunt Linda with us. Fantastic place. Will fill you in with really funny pictures and details later, but for now, just a few bits. Take your own food. That's not 'flat bread', in the sense that most North, South, and Central Americans use the word. Ice water is free, and those souvenir cups are worth every penny just for that. And, um, don't wear jeans unless you're here for the Christmas to-do. Yeah.

Friday Night: Dixie Stampede. Very cool. Kids were totally riveted. LOVED the ostrich races. Gram had a good time. I think everybody did. Our waiter, Matthew, was astonishing. I could not do his job. WOW. But WHY did nobody warn us about the silverware issue? What's up with that? Try convincing my OCD-sympathetic 9yo that a whole chicken IS a finger food, and then get back to me on why you didn't feel the need to tip me off about something like that, please? That should so be the first thing out of any reviewer's mouth: there is no silverware. Not even for the soup. It's not a bad thing, but again, a little forewarning goes a long, long way, does it not?

Saturday: Back to Dollywood. This time, Aunt Linda stays with Gram and Aunt B comes with us. (We tried to convince her to let us stay with Gram and then the Aunts could take the boys and Fearless Sister, but that was kind of a no-go.)

We could easily stay here for a month and never feel like we've seen it all or run out of things to do. It's most impressive!

And so, I've just fallen asleep twice while typing this (a pitfall of laptops is that you can, technically, get way too comfortable!) so I'm going to go.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

The Mess

We're enjoying the visit, and the mess. The mess stays in the kitchen, though, which is helpful. A messy kitchen means there's been food, and with food comes laughter, fully bellies, shared stories, and contentment. Food is good. But you can't have good food without messing up the kitchen a little bit here and there. And you could stop to clean. Or you could just enjoy your company and clean later. My experience indicates those pots will be waiting for you after your guests leave, so there's really no hurry...
The boys were in heaven all weekend, having Patrick to play chess with them. They're wallowing in Aunt B's willingness to play cards. They love having Gram to dote on and do things for. And Aunt Linda lets them gather things for her and help out. It's really nice.

It's hard to see Gram as fragile as she is. But you know, she's 99... and a half! I think you're allowed to slow down a little at some point, right? And it's a reminder that the pots and pans will be there long after all of us are gone. I plan to clean enough to be able to make good food. But then, relax, tell stories, play games, and enjoy the things that won't be here later -- things like little babies, smallish kids, big kids, friends and aunts and grams. Really. It's okay.

And we have a surprise adventure planned for this weekend! I can hardly wait!


Kiss those babies!
~Dy

The Visit

Hi! Wish you were here! We're eating, visiting, eating, chatting, eating, napping, and then eating some more. It's good stuff. And check it out - the mostly-finished balcony!
Aunt B, Aunt Linda, and Gram arrived safe and sound Friday night. Cousins P and T arrived sometime Saturday morning, while everyone was asleep. Anybody remember being young enough to drive all night and still function sometime in the following 24 hours? Me neither! But they're tough.

We had company today to visit with the... company. That sounds weird. Friends of Zorak's from work came down. Me-Tae came down. (We bribed her with puppies and children - she's such a softie!)

Zorak cooked and fed everyone into a near-comatose state... pulled pork bbq, chimichangas, beans and homemade Spanish rice... so good! Then we just sort of plopped down until our circulation could be rediverted back to our limbs.
And this... is a great way to spend a lovely Sunday afternoon, is it not?
Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Things that make us smile.

I think this summer we will finally put some photographs on the walls. However, I've rummaged through the ones we have framed and stored, and you know, I just don't think many of the old Sears or Olan Mills or Target photos are going to make the cut. Aside from the fact that we've had a few children since the last one was taken, there's also that they aren't "us". They barely look like us, other than my trademark fang-bearing snarl. (Always a indicative that I've tried to hold a smile for any length of time. Lovely legacy, that. *snort*)

But also, I think we take more fun photographs. Lighthearted, reflective, intuitive. Nobody we can afford can capture Our Home the way we can. Now, don't go thinking I'm getting all uppity about my mad photography skills. 90% of what I take is crap. But there are some differences that lead me, in my more sleep-deprived moments, to believe we could create some lovely artwork for the walls with the genetic experiments we have on hand (namely that I'm not limited by a time slot, and I'm free to capture things the way they are everyday, which they most definitely are not when we're in a studio.)

So, I've decided to get a little out-there and round up some of our favorite shots, mix 'em up in black and white (the ultimate skin tone modifier!) and have some fun with it. Enough of this standard, utilitarian, pre-packaged decor.

We need framed 5x7's like this one, don't you think? (Well, perhaps not this one - it's grainy - I cannot, for the life of me, figure out the right settings for indoor shots with this camera. But you get the idea.)

So, that's my Fun Project for the summer. Perhaps it'll keep me so busy I won't be whining about the hot 'n sticky aspect of it? Maybe. Probably not. But fortunately, I can multitask!

Want to share your favorite photographs? I'd love to see them!

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

A Day in Which...

We accomplish absolutely nothing!

That's on tomorrow's agenda. Today, we were up, dressed, fed, and out the door in time for baseball camp. We took both the recycling and the donations to their respective new homes, washed and vacuumed the Suburban, and brought ourselves back into the good graces of the little local library. We picked up John, hit the Fudge Shoppe (ran into someone we know! That feels SO good, after not having it for such a long time. *happy sigh*), and then ran into town.

I got my hair done. Slept through most of it. Nice Hair Lady let me nap, and when I apologized for my burgeoning narcolepsy, she said if she had that many kids, she'd pass out every time she stopped moving at all. Normally, I'd think that was a weird thing to say, but today I was just glad for the empathy. The nap and the dye job both did wonders for my overall outlook.

From there, we went up to Me-Wa and Me-Tae's place and stayed far later than we should. It was just so. incredibly. nice. It's hard to leave, and we all had a wonderful time kibbitzing and chatting and eating. Gotta love the eating. I need to get Me-Tae's pasta-shrimp-thingy recipe. It was way-nummy. The kids, of course, were on cloud nine to see Me-Wa and Me-Tae, to play in the yard, to love on the doggies, and to have *soda*!! The little boy from up the road came over and ran amok with our kids. He's such a great kid. We'd bring him home with us if we thought his mother wouldn't hold it against us. As it is, however, we're pretty sure that'd be a grudge-worthy adventure, so we'll just see if we can borrow him when we're in town.

Tomorrow, we sleep in, eat cold cereal for breakfast, do a few chores, and then veg like fresh produce for the rest of the day. I think we can do that without feeling the least bit guilty!

Kiss those babies!
~Dy