Myths and Ire

M'kay... So, I saw this online the other day...

I am fed up with teachers and their hefty salary guides. What we need here is a little perspective. If I had my way, I'd pay these teachers myself.... I'd pay them babysitting wages. That's right... instead of paying these outrageous taxes, I'd give them $3.00 an hour out of my own pocket. And I'm only going to pay them for five hours, not coffee breaks. That would be $15.00 a day - each parent should pay $15.00 a day for these teachers to babysit their child. Even if they have more than one child, it's still a lot cheaper than private day care.

Now, how many children do they teach a day - maybe twenty? That's $15.00 x 20 = $300 a day. But, remember they only work 180 days a year!! I'm not going to pay them for all those vacations. $300 x 180 = $54,000. (Just a minute, I think my calculator needs batteries.)

I know now you teachers will say what about those who have ten years' experience and a Master's degree? Well, maybe (to be fair) they could get the minimum wage, and instead of just babysitting, they could read the kids a story. We can round that off to about $5.00 an hour, times five hours, times 20 children. That's $500 a day times 180 days. That's $90,000....HUH???? Wait a minute, let's get a little perspective here. Babysitting wages are too good for these teachers. Did anyone see a salary guide around here??

Author Unknown - it could have been any one of America's 2.5 million "overpaid" public school teachers

As you know, if you've read here for any length of time, I believe that teaching children is one of the most noble, powerful, worthwhile endeavors any human can engage in. While we choose not to contract with the government for the education of our children, we've also long felt that teachers should have more control over their classrooms, better pay (particularly when viewed through the School District spending, in general), and backup from the parents. Granted, as long as the Department of Education continues to expand its grip on American Education, that first bit isn't going to happen, not by a long shot.

And as long as the educational unions remain as prolific as they are, the deadlock of corruption and waste endemic in the public school systems will not be resolved to anybody's satisfaction in the foreseeable future. (And really, who can blame voters for voting down bond measures when Admin salaries or peripheral expenses go up and up and teacher's salaries stagnate, every time? We could mortgage our futures, and yet it seems the teachers won't ever see the money.)

And, really, while I'm generally pretty empathetic about teachers' salaries, the amount of sheer smarminess in this little tirade rubbed me the wrong way. First of all, who gets a baby sitter for $3/hr? Oh, I know, that's supposed to be "the point". Well, let's look at a few other points:

~ A babysitter will come to my home.
~ A babysitter will do so on my schedule.
~ A babysitter will give my child individualized care and attention.
~ A babysitter will use the materials I feel are superior, and not just what the Head Sitter has told her to use.
~ A babysitter will happily use materials I provide, if hers are not up to par.
~ A babysitter is accountable to me.
~ If the babysitter sucks at her job, I can fire her and find a competent one.
~ If the babysitter simply is not capable of interacting or connecting with my child, I can fire her and find one who is.
~If the babysitter abuses/hits on/offers drugs to my child, the sitter is out. of. here. - no "administrative leave", and certainly not a paid one! Gone. If I don't trust you, you have no business being in charge of my child. That's my call.
~ If I find out the babysitter is trying to teach my children that they, minors who can't live on their own yet, are intuitively more worldly and knowledgeable than we, their parents, are, I can fire her and find one with a functional moral compass.
~ If I have any questions or concerns about how the babysitter is doing her job, I don't have to worry about getting the run around about "standard procedures", "school policy", "protocols", or "letting the *experts* handle this".
~ A babysitter isn't obligated to some union that has my children at the bottom of the priority list.
~ A babysitter is someone I have personally chosen, based on the criteria I value and desire in the interaction and care of my children, not based on someone else's ideas of "competent", "certified", or even "professional".
~ A babysitter will pick up a bit, too, if she's really good.
~ A babysitter doesn't forget that I, the parent, AM the Ultimate Advocate for my child. Ever. (Refer to the sixth one, above.)

I'd say that's worth something.

And when you add in actually teaching, educating, my child? AND doing it well? There simply is no way to fully compensate someone monetarily for that, no matter how much blood you tax from property owners. And so, I do it, myself. And still pay the taxes so that other people have access to teachers for their children.

As with any social government program, though, public education is rife with bureaucracy, red tape, conundrums wrapped in enigmas, waste, corruption, pissing contests among all participants, political malarkey, and, of course, inefficiency. I'm really sorry the system is in such bad shape, but don't get snarky with me, expecting me to believe that more money will magically fix the problems. Clean house and sort it out, then talk. Or not. Whatever.

Just makes me that much happier that my children aren't in the hands of people with this much ire toward the rest of the world.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Getting Stuff Done

This year, we've all got allergies. Not quite what I was shooting for, as a family gift, but it has brought us all closer together. We congregate near the antihistamines and tissues. We take advantage of that quality time by coordinating appointments and practice/game schedules. As a result, we're getting caught up on a number of overlooked topics.

James and John saw an optometrist today. Or an ophthalmologist. Or, something. He had a lot of equipment. He spoke very slowly and clearly. He seemed to shoot me straight. It's all good.

John got a prescription for reading glasses. He said it's mild enough that he wouldn't normally even recommend glasses, but based on John's migraine problems, and our description of how we've tracked that down, he said he's confident this will eliminate them. Wee! John will be excited when he sees it play out. I am excited right the heck now! Also, the doc said he has no scarring visible, which was one of those *exhale your relief inappropriately loudly in the office* moments.

James' vision is fine, and we ascertained that he's certainly not shy. But the Doc was concerned about the beating James' eyes are taking from the allergies. We left with some otc suggestions for eye drops, and an open invite to call in for more options if that doesn't do the trick. James was hesitant (the last time we tried eye drops, they burned horribly), but he said this stuff (Alaway. Catchy, huh? That link has a $4 off coupon, too, I just noticed. Huh. Should've looked earlier.) doesn't burn. And the difference was 100% worth it. Again with the excitement, but this time, it's both of us.

Now to finagle a physical for Scout camp, and an office visit for what's beginning to sound like a lower respiratory infection... and I wonder if someone would come to our home to potty train Jason? (No, really. I am so tired. And not really looking forward to carrying three spare sets of clothes at all times, or to strategically purchasing my groceries based on distance from the bathroom. We just got EmBaby out of the habit of having to use every toilet in every location. Market Day just recently became quick and efficient!)

But, other than that, and general follow-ups for the rest of us, it's looking like things are about to slow down, a bit. Oh yeah, that'll be nice.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

The Smelly Days of Summer

I'm up late, doing laundry. (Thrilling, no?) Usually, I am on top of the laundry. I have to be. If it piles up, it piles up quickly. In the blink of an eye, there are missing persons reports to file, stray animals to round up, napalm drops to call in... Yeah, it generally takes two loads a day, to stay on top of things. But the nice thing is that, when baseball season starts, and things get hectic (and the wash frequency goes up, so they have clean uniforms all. the. damned. time.), I can throw in a load before breakfast, switch it to the dryer and start a second load that I don't have to worry about until we get back from that day's practice/game/random event.

Until about... now. If a load stays in the washer more than, say, ten or fifteen minutes after the final spin, it's gotta go through again, with vinegar. And prayers. If my church had cool, helpful statues, I'd stick one in the vent hose. (Is there a saint of washer women?) And that's when I know Spring is gone. The humidity goes up just enough to tweak the air a titch. The temps go up just enough to do the trick, but not quite enough to turn on the a/c, yet. So, I don't notice until it's too late. That, and it always happens in the midst of baseball season, so I'm not usually paying any attention, anyway.

Zorak had surgery last week (outpatient, to correct the inevitable payback of a misspent youth, or so he jokes - it was to correct some sinus problems, actually), so he's been flying the Percocet Carpet for the last five days. And in that five days, wee doggies, have I dropped the ball! Not entirely. We haven't lost any more chickens. We're all spooled up on local news. School's still getting done (amazingly enough). The dogs still recognize us. Everybody's been fed, everyone's made it to lessons/practices/games/doctor appointments. We've worked out a good schedule for peeking in on him to make sure he's okay. But not quite everyone has clean socks. Or towels. The towels are always the first to freak out on me and not make it to the dryer on the first run. And once they've backlogged, it throws my whole delicate (read: unstable) system into slow motion.

Thankfully, it's a good Hulu night - Castle, Modern Family, Glee. Hulu, making laundry nights fun again!

And, only one more week of baseball, I think. John's tournaments begin tomorrow, and then he's done. Then Smidge (Tuesday!) goes until the 29th. Yes, I know that's technically more than a week, but in Baseball Time, it's close enough to call it a week. :-)

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Post-Mother's Day Recap

Did you have a nice Mother's Day (if you observe it, that is)? We do, sort of. As much as we tend to observe any holiday we might be able to get out of. It's hit or miss, with us. Really, I think there's a sick humor in Mother's Day being observed on a Sunday. What mother's ideal Mother's Day really includes the Sunday Morning Chaos that accompanies, well, Sunday Mornings? Not mine! And I know, it's not like we have an excuse -- church starts at 11:00, we're only half an hour away, and we have everybody showered and clothes lined up the night before. Yet, there you have it. We've become almost entirely nocturnal, and mostly sloth-like before, say ten AM. But, I have yet to convince anybody else we should observe it on Saturdays.

Oh, wait, it's baseball season. I guess Sunday looks pretty good, now, doesn't it? Yeah, love those perspective checks, now and then.

So this year's Mother's Day was nice. Zorak taught the boys how to make French toast, then turned them loose to show off their mad skills. I'm really glad we went with the wider stove. It'll come in handy when they tackle omelets and decide they want to flip them using the pan! Breakfast was delicious, there were no serious injuries, and we didn't even miss the opening prayer!

Then we came home and worked on the property, hauling downed limbs, trimming limbs that refused to down on their own (?), and mowing, mowing, mowing. We got a lot done, until the boys remembered we'd picked up steaks on sale. That's when they began to mutiny. It was a small, absolutely adorable mutiny, as those things go, though. We scuttled back inside to suck down lemonade by the gallon and cook up a nice supper. (Jacob helped with the supper, since he didn't get to help with breakfast. That boy can season a steak just perfectly!)

And so, we ate and laughed, and relaxed for the evening. The boys considered ways to build a "Mom Chair" for the dining table - one that's wider than usual to accommodate an extra child in Mom's lap while she eats. I think they finally decided maybe just putting a back on the bench would be the way to go. Jason encouraged their efforts with his primate-like agility and determination. It was nice. You know, like Life.

And I realized, while going through photos for this post, that this is the closest thing I've got to a recent picture of the whole family... So, at least we have a good idea what to shoot for, for Father's Day, right?

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

More Bird Pictures

(Shhhh. I'm posting these while I know Amy's on the road and not likely to see them. She'd thank me for it, if she knew.) :-)

Here are a few closer shots of the individual breeds. Because... Um, I can't think of anything else to blog right now. So, there you have it.

The Spartanly attired little white one, there, with the yellow head, is the other quail. They call her Smart Balance. I thought for sure she was a goner, after the drive home. She's doubled in size, and finally sprouted feathers. (She was almost completely nekkid for about a week. It was both fascinating and horrifying. I have a feeling that will sum up the overall experience, to be honest.)

This is a Welsummer. It's a Dutch breed, and such a strong, gorgeous bird. I love their plumage. The eggs are a terra cotta color, too, which is cool. These are James' picks.

Here's Navajo, one of the Ameracaunas. Isn't he gorgeous? I think this was the only male Ameracauna we had. Sadly, we've now lost all but two of them to some mystery depredation. This one and another, and, I'm sorry to say they went into sick bay this afternoon.

This one is Pingu. Have you seen the cartoon? Yeah, same basic personality. Cute as a button, but without the random yelling, "Pingu!" every once in a while.

John and Jacob had to be dragged away to baseball games tonight. They wanted to take rounds trying to find a way to help the little birds. James, who has utterly redeemed himself for not being able to narrate from the last chapter he read for Literature by filling me in on all kinds of little details about the sickly birds, is down there, now, coaxing some electrolyte fluids into the wee ones, and trying to get them to eat. It is amazing what he's learned so far!

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Project Blogging: Chickens and such

Well, the promised chick pictures. This is the only shot we have of all of them (yep, tucked into the wheelbarrow while we finished up the details on the brooder box), as once they got into the brooder box, they scattered. Can't blame them.

So far, it's been bittersweet. The chicks are adorable and funny and mildly insane (I would give money to know what goes through their heads). The children are learning an extraordinary amount, and they're completely enamored with the chicks.

This one's a quail - the boys named him Java. We're 90% sure it's a male, anyway.

They love the roost Zorak put in, as an after thought. Well, some of them love it. The others stand beneath it and peck at the roosting one's toes. (Again... what goes through their minds?)

The bitter part is that we've lost three, today. That's a total of four, out of 30, and I'm trying hard not to freak out. We've touched base with Chicken People, who've helped us brainstorm ideas, and it seems this may just be part of the Bad Stuff Happens category. One got trampled the first day, when a bug got into the coop and they staged a food riot trying to catch it. But the other three have gone from fine, to "not quite right", to "stone cold dead" in a matter of hours.

There's no sign of mites or lice (hold on while I shudder, ew) or injuries. We keep checking and re-checking the temperature, food, water, space, litter, look for pasty butt... temperature, food, water... bet they're wondering what goes through our minds, too.

See the shavings in the food trough? They *just* put those there. I swear, they watch, snickering under their breath, as we clean out the food and water, wait for us to go wash our hands, and then one of them (I suspect the little black/cream mottled one, pictured below - she's ornery) chirps,

OK, everybody! Start kicking! Get it in there! WooHoo! Wait til you see their faces when they turn around!

They do this. I'm convinced of it.

The upshot is that none of the losses seem to be due to Toddler Depredation, or visits from the Bad Idea Fairy. That's a plus. (Ohhhh, I can't describe what a plus that is!) And, of those that remain, all look healthy, strong, and full of spunk. The boys and I, however, will breathe a sigh of relief when the chicks are a little bigger, a little stronger, and a little less fragile. Is there an animal version of poison ivy? Because, that, we have no problem keeping alive.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Terrifyingly Awesome

We took the kids to the Botanical Gardens a week or so back, and I saw this thing. It's a beast of a tree. The thing is, it look gorgeous, delicate, and inviting (from a distance). But then I saw the title plate at the base of the tree.

Dragon? What dragon? Why's it a dragon? Zorak pointed out why it's a dragon. Ohhh....

Did you see it? Yes, lovely little orange erm, shaped, fruits. But beside those, look closely.

Crikey! Now *that's* a protective hedge. I'm thinking we'll plant them below the bedroom windows. Kind of makes the traditional holly bush look a little puny, doesn't it? Yep, then we'd have dragons, in addition to our half-a-moat! It's shaping up to be a regular little castle, around here!

Kiss those babies! (and, uh, keep them out of the dragon beds!)
~Dy

Keeping Up

I need a supercomputer video and snapshot system installed in my temples. That way, I might get better pictures than this. But the pictures in my head are lovely, and this was a fun time, up there. What with the feet in my face, and all. Really, it was.

We're waiting for the custard to finish. SO excited. I mean, unbelievably, thoroughly, and wholly excited about having custard in the middle of the day. *happy sigh* The kids are worried that I'm going to call it "lunch", though, and not feed them properly. It's almost as though they think that by acting like they'd hate it, I'll do it, because I never do that, and yet, they always go straight to that conclusion. Bunchaweirdos.

The chickens are doing fantastic! We've only lost one! I have pictures, but they were all taken when the chicks were in a wheelbarrow, and... well, I'd like to get some shots of the actual brooder box, just so nobody freaks out and thinks we're raising that many chicks in, you know, a wheelbarrow. I'll get some shots today. Promise.

Oh! The custard is ready.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

It's Springtime, Y'all!

Why didn't anybody tell my 17-yo self that THERE IS STILL SO MUCH TO LEARN!?! Well, someone probably did. So why didn't I listen? Nevermind. There's still a lot I don't know, but I think I've figure that one out, at least.

So, we're gardening the garden of the Ambitious, this year. Cucumbers, eggplants, tomatoes, okra, okra, and okra. Kentucky pole beans and black turtle beans and sunflowers. Yellow squash, zucchini, watermelons, pumpkins, canteloupes and okra. Cayenne peppers, bell peppers, Blue lake green beans, tomatoes, and some okra. Honestly, we're just hoping to get some okra out of the deal.

And there's baseball. And school. And Scouts. And baseball. (EmBaby *hated* t-ball, so we are down to only two players, now. It feels so manageable!) And more gardening.

We're expanding the tea garden into medicinal plants.

The boys keep asking if I've blogged an update on each of them, yet, "with my pictures in it, Mom". But then they won't hold still long enough for me to get pictures to post. (I'm guessing they may not listen when we tell them how much there is still to learn, either.)

Did you know you have to have register with the State of Alabama to grow ginseng here? Not only to sell it (that's a more expensive license), or to harvest it (though they charge you less if you're collecting someone else's ginseng), but just to GROW it. Something that grows wild, without your help, anyway. Unbelievable.

We've got chicks. Yes, little birds. They're in the basement, with the Basement Frog, for now. This was our impetus to get the coop done. (Ya think?) The kids are ecstatic. I'm trying to find a way to develop a full-body second skin dip that will provide prophylactic support against salmonella, mites, and the willies.

EmBaby had her first major tricycle wreck, which also earned her her first shiner. It looked absolutely horrific for the first four days (she was fine, but we all went around cringing and moaning in empathy), and then this morning, *poof* it's nearly gone. And she's still on the tricycle every chance she gets. May she always be blessed with that kind of healing ability and fortitude. If I were more Irish, maybe I could come up with a catchy way to phrase that.

The figs are growing! Or, rather, one of the figs is growing. The other one seems to be holding very, very still, in the hope that neither Jason nor Sally will ever make contact with it again. We've built cages for all of the balcony plants (the two figs, and the three earth boxes), but I think we may have been too slow on the draw to do that one any good. The other one, though (the one that hasn't been uprooted and thrown off the balcony more than twice), is thriving and putting out vibrant, beautiful green shoots! So exciting!

And, there is baseball.

And gardening.

And the smell of sunshine and dirt on little heads.

It's Springtime in the South, y'all!

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

It's... um, Wednesday, right?

Right. OK, cool. That means we'll have to leave the house before five (yes, we've become Baseball Vampires, only emerging from our cave for practices and games, at twilight - not as romantic as some might imagine). But today? Today we make the rounds: Egg Lady, Farmer's Market, Veggie Stand, and then to the store for whatever we can't get, there; music lessons, and a side trip for some art study, as well. Then, off to batting practice for John. I wish the crockpot fairy had come during the night.

So far this week, we've had a lovely blend of gardening and land management, academics, and good old fun. I wish I'd thought to jot down the things the kids have said this week, because they've kept me in stitches. Granted, that makes it harder to stay focused. But they're a lot of fun.

Animal Control came by yesterday to pick up three stray puppies that had decided they really wanted to be ours. They were adorable. They were also, unfortunately, much like the Chubb Chubbs, but without the loyalty factor. Or the hope of staying small. They were cute and playful and sweet, with jaws of steel and a vicious street thug attitude when it came to food and other dogs. Presumably, that 'tude extends to small children that carry beef jerky, or are slathered in yogurt. We didn't wait to find out. Thuggery won't fly here, I don't care how cute you are. So, yay, they're gone. I also learned that if you have a stray hanging around for more than ten days, even if it's off and on, it's considered "yours" if you're the one that calls, and you have to sign over rights to it before they'll haul it away. Since it took us a week to figure out they were definitely strays, and then we spent another few days trying to find a home for them, Animal Control Guy said they were mine. Wild.

The boys' music books have completely disappeared. I'm not sure if it's a quiet protest, or just a hard-core case of brain fuzz. The boys seem as baffled as I am, though.

And, since I just don't think I'll ever get around to doing an actual Anniversary Post, it was our Anniversary. Back on the 11th. We celebrated with new plants for the Forever Home, and steaks on the grill at home. It's kind of exciting, not having to buy things like wiring and PVC glue, anymore. Very exciting, to be doing it together. The kids think we're weirdos right now (James and Jacob were angling for a trip to the Longhorn Steakhouse!), but hopefully they'll get it when they're married, and will enjoy strong, happy marriages, whatever they look like and however they celebrate. That's the goal, anyway.

Aaaaaand, we're off and running!
Kiss those babies!
~Dy

We're on the road...

Oh, it's been a crazy-busy weekend. Even by Baseball Season standards, yesterday was a blur that I'm still not able to think about. And although we'll slow back down for the rest of the week, it's still a bit busy. On the road we travel, Baseball Season weekends are a detour down a side road with good company, nice scenery, and bad food. Come tomorrow, though, it's back to our regular road...
To scientific advancement,

Mathematical mastery,

Literary prowess,

and, evidently, Shambala.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

In the tea garden

The tea garden survived the winter. The boys are working with the lemon balm, here. The pineapple sage returned quite beautifully, as did the bee balm. They're so excited!!

Wonder what else we could put in there? What would you plant in a tea garden?

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

On Changes, Food

Ok, so Emily and Mere wanted to know more about the nutritional changes we're making. (But y'all need to share yours, too! Learning is more fun, together!)

I'll be upfront: I hate change. Really, I do. Sometimes, it's necessary, and good. Then, I can handle, at times, even embrace it. Most of the time, people want change for the sake of change, with no regard to whether it's a change for the better. When that gets foisted upon me, I loathe it even more. That's what re-arranging the furniture, or coloring your hair, is for. Not for major life changes.

So, when we do decide to change things up around here, it's usually done with a fair amount of thought, research and planning before hand. That's not to say we have all the answers. We're pretty sure we don't even have most of the questions yet. It just means we've taken stock and decided that, for this house, and this family, at this point, this is what we're going to do. And sometimes, in case those aren't enough qualifiers, we don't end up able or willing to pull it off at all. Yep, just drop your pocket change in the therapy jar as you enter the foyer.

One last caveat, so that nobody confuses me with a "professional" in any sense of the word, I'm a gleaner. Gleaning has saved people from dying off, and from making poor choices whole hog, for centuries. Any process that provides that much consistent return is worth looking into. So, when I say I get a lot of insight from Nourishing Traditions, (and I do!) that doesn't mean you'll be able to pry the pressure cooker from my cold, dead (and potentially malnourished, since I keep using the danged thing) hands. I still believe the pressure cooker is the procrastinator's crock pot, a little technological gift from God so that we don't have to choose between eating our food raw and not eating at all. (Yeah, I know, Jess, but I will probably always cook at least some of my food. Love me where I'm at, right? *grin*) Gleaning means that I get why that's not the best way to go about getting food on the table, and I'm willing to work toward an ideal. Or to incorporate those bits that seem to mesh with the above mentioned legwork, meow meow, study, meow family. Meow. (tried to find a link to Daniel Striped Tiger's talking, inserting "meows" in, here and there, but, um... wow. the word "meow" has been taken to an HNL in the past few years. no video for you!)

So, the nutritional changes, we've actually been making slowly over the last year or so. It began with raw milk, spread to soaked grains, moved on to my quirky affair with kefir, and so on. Then, due to logistics, we let the raw milk slide. Life has a way of not letting things slide, however, even when you think it'd be easier to do so. And this was no exception.

John's had a bit of health trouble the last six months or so. We got most of it ironed out, except one: stomach pain. We checked the wheat, we tracked his diet, we flipped his mattress, upped his water, tested eighty gallons of blood, blah-blah-blah. The kid's been a tough little lab rat the past six months, lemme tell ya. Then, one day, while a friend lovingly let me freak out to her about scheduling a visit with a neurologist, it hit me: in John's nine years on earth, the ONLY time he's been free of stomach pain has been when he was on raw milk. That includes the wheat-free years. He's never been free of stomach pain. He had a lovely reprieve last spring, and then, *bam* it was back. Right when we went back to store-bought milk. Hmmm.

So, we found a closer source. We got him spooled back up last week, and within 72 hours, the stomach pains diminished significantly. Within another 24 after that, gone. From 3-4 episodes a day, to nothing, in a week. Guess what's going on our regular grocery list, now? We've made some other changes, too - not all at once, but bit-by-bit.

~ We're pretty much a juice-free home, now. Zorak occasionally buys orange juice. But I don't schedule it into our regular diet. The kids eat fresh fruit several times a day, and they drink water both at meals and throughout the day. They have access to the milk whenever they want, as well.

~ I've cut my coffee consumption exponentially (not exaggerating), replacing that with water, as well.

~ We've moved our Big Meal of the day to an earlier spot in the day, and added in a few smaller, but more intentional meals.

~ We eat breakfast and lunch outside, whenever possible. The atmosphere can't be beat!

~ Oat groats, instead of rolled oats, go farther, are more filling, and have more nutrition. Larger upfront investment, if you buy through a co-op, but an enormous savings, overall - not just financially, but in health benefits, too.

The savings from eliminating juice (and other peripheral beverages), and reducing the coffee consumption, alone, freed up money to spend on local, free-range chicken eggs and fresh, thick, clean milk.

And some changes aren't changes. They're things we've always done, and still feel are the best choice for our home. We still use lard. We still eat meat - red meat, white meat, wild game, you name it. We still have pintos (or some kind of bean) available every day. I've got the boys convinced lentils are cool, but they're relegated to lunchtime only because Zorak thinks they're puny and lacking in body, much preferring the noble pinto. We skimp on junk food and keep a good supply of veggies in the fridge.

The boys are cooking with us more, too. Now that Jase can get up onto the counter and back down, he's pretty, erm, "involved". Em dons her fairy wings and mixes or pours. James made a fantastic guacamole to go with lunch, today. They made a dutch baby (new recipe) and a recipe for German pancakes the other day for breakfast (they did a comparison - and the verdict is, it's the same thing. We ate it all.) Jacob's venturing into the kitchen for a little one-on-one, and learning the ropes as he goes. These are always excellent kitchen happenings!

I'm sure there's more we can do. Probably more we will do. But right now, for this home, and this family, at this point, this is a good place to be.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Life with the JakeRabbit

A quick catch-up on the kids, starting with Jacob. Since he vetoed "Smidge", we've taken to calling him JakeRabbit - no, he doesn't have big ears, or fleas, or a pink nose. He does, however, have an astounding ability to zip around with boundless energy, amazing (if occasionally selective) hearing, and a pretty powerful bounce. It doesn't seem possible, but there he is, reading nutrition labels and bedtime stories to EmBaby, hanging at the ball fields like he knows what he's doing, cracking funny jokes, and cleaning up - when necessary - like he's not being raised by wolves. This is our third time through having a six-year-old, and I think we're finally able to enjoy it, quirks and all. (Reminder to self: thank James and John for breaking us in fairly gently, and loving us through the learning curve.) JakeRabbit, however, is a riot.

He rocked the Hot Dog Sale for Cub Scouts this year. We don't even pretend to sell popcorn, so the boys work both of the weekday shifts of the sale, the Pack's only other fund raiser, to make up for that. Another perk of homeschooling - flexible days! He hung with his brothers, putting in two 7-hr days without so much as a whimper or a faked injury. His domain was the hot dog machine, itself. Yep, heavy equipment operator meets gourmet chef! Looking at this picture, I find myself wondering at what point a hair net is required?

You see, he's trying to grow out his hair, because all (er, well, one or two) of the boys he looks up to have long hair. I'm having a hard time keeping a straight face about it. See, he feels Big, doing this. And, really, it's not a hill I want to die on. He's still polite and sweet, and clean (or, at least when we go into town, he is clean). But his hair... it's curly... and thick... and there's a LOT of it. And, I'm sorry, but when left to its own devices, he looks an awful like like a very young Albert Brooks. The guy who cut his hair last actually recommended we use "product". On a six-year-old. And the sad part? We tried it. It kind of worked, but by the end of the day, the entire back of his head had begun to grow, like those sponge animals in gelatin capsules. Thank God it wasn't humid that day! Also thankful for baseball caps...

He's playing ball again this year. He's enjoying it. He's actually pretty good at it, too. He can run. He can catch. He can throw pretty well. He's figuring out how to hit (it's coach pitch this year, rather than machine pitch). But you know what? He says he's not playing again next year. There's a certain sad irony in knowing that the only one of our kids they're going to *want* to continue playing really just isn't that into it. He does, however, give it his all when he's out there! Can't ask for more than that. He encourages EmBaby in her efforts, too, which is adorable and endearing, and buys him a certain latitude, I'm sure.

So, all-in-all, it's shaping up to be a Great Year for Smidge, er, JakeRabbit. He's winding up first grade. He'll eat pintos, now, without needing too much extra cheese. He's got a dog he loves. And a family that loves him. Not a bad way to spend the year. We're so lucky to have a JakeRabbit.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Back to Basics

A few changes in the works, here. First, I'm abandoning Photoshop. It may be a fantastic program, but it requires time, patience, and an uninterruptedness that I simply haven't got at the moment. My feelings on this are along the same lines as on curriculum choices - The best program in the world won't matter if it sits on the shelf. So, back to Picasa, which has pretty much everything I need. (And what I need is to get pics available to Granny more often, for one thing! And to blog more often, for another.) So, here we are...

 
The weather is gorgeous, and it looks like we might actually make a little headway on the land, this year! So far, we've put in a blueberry stick (bush, eventually, but right now, shyeah, it's a stick), two raspberries, a blackberry (all sticks), and two cherry trees (actual trees - they make the sticks look even more pathetic). There are two fig sticks awaiting transplant, and Zorak did a little tilling in the garden, too!

 

EmBaby is still in charge of major defoliation projects, but she's agreed to stick to things that won't bear fruit, eventually. And, the apple and pear trees seem to be up and running for this year. We're hoping to avoid the June drop with proper thinning on the pears, and really just tossing Hail Marys at the apples. Not much else we can do, with them.

Some other changes we're making around the the Old Shack are educational - back to basics; nutritional - again, back to basics; philosophical - back to... hey, do you see a pattern here?

 

And so far, we're enjoying the changes!
Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Morning Comes Early

Jase got up incredibly early this morning. He came in and climbed all over us. We chased him out. He came back with a cookie and climbed all over us. Zorak chased him out. He came back a third time, with a cup, and climbed all over us. From under a pillow, I heard Zorak mumble, "He's an aggravating little cuss, isn't he?"

We had a busy, wonderful, fantastic Easter weekend. There just wasn't enough Sleep. There are pictures, but they're on the upstairs computer. (Zorak and I take turns on the Siberian exile station, down here in the basement - this computer is terribly slow, but I suspect come August, we'll be elbowing one another down the stairs, vying for time in the coolest spot in the whole house!)

We're enjoying a somewhat freakish warm, dry spell this week. Of course, I use "enjoy" in its loosest manner. Mainly, we're willing to take any temperature, as long as the humidity stays fairly low. After that, all bets are off and I'll be counting down the days to November.

And now, I must either get to work on some Velcro footie pajamas for Jason, or get to bed so Morning doesn't feel like it comes quite so early tomorrow!

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Fashion Friday... again?

Zorak brought home a movie, but we live in the house that Playmobil built, and have to wait for everyone to be sound asleep or the sounds of Somebody Doing Something Interesting will lure the small ones from their caves. So, I have a few minutes, here, and if I'm not going to blog about politics, economics, religion, or diapers, it looks like we have "fashion".

I should just call mine "Shirttail Fashion" because I have NO original ideas in this area, and offer just the rambling things that came to mind when I read others' posts.

LIPS:

Bare Escentuals Buxom lipstick? Awesome. Tingly. Lovely color. I do love this, although, to be perfectly honest, I don't know why. I am not even convinced it has any plumping factor, at all. But then, I get the Blunt Trauma Via Baby Head treatment at least twice a week so, for all I know, my lips are actually even thinner than I think they are.

Anyway, one warning with this stuff: if you have long hair, be sure to wear this lipstick only if you are going to be inside the entire time, or if you're pulling your hair back that day. It's like having a wee tar pit on your face, and any stray lightweight thing that comes near it will stick. Mercilessly. Hair. Gnats. Paper napkins. You name it. Not only is that irritating, it's embarrassing six hours into the day, when you assume it's just another damned hair and it does, in fact, turn out to be a gnat.

The moral of the story: sometimes Carmex is just fine.

But, being quite lazy, and forgetful, when it comes to personal appearance, I much prefer to put on something and then... just trust that it'll be there, later, when that would be helpful. For that, I like Maybelline's Superstay lip color. They have plenty of fun colors, just be willing to run with it once it's on, because it will stay. Plus, you can put your Carmex over that without removing or smearing the color.

One word of warning (why do all my tips come with more warnings than a table saw? What am I doing wrong?) - Anyway, the directions say to put it on and let it sit for one minute, without blotting it. One minute is a very long time to stand with your lips apart on purpose, but if they touch, they'll stick. It's the weirdest sensation. So, put it on, and then pay. attention. But, once it's on, like I said, it's on, and you don't have to wonder if you have a gnat stuck to your face at the baseball games.

PERIPHERALS:

(That sounds better than "FEET".) I've got nothing for nail polish. I'm usually good if I can actually say that my nails are clean, and don't have jagged, dangerous edges. However, the feet. It's Sandal Season, according to those who ascribe to such things. (Down here, we just call it Spring, and we go barefoot as much as possible. The following applies to us, as well. Possibly even moreso.)

Buy yourself a PedEgg. Spend the ten bucks, and don't look back. It will do in five minutes what you cannot accomplish with a pumice stone and a fifth of whiskey. When you're done, your feet look and feel as if you've been maintaining a high level of grooming all your life.

And yes, of course there's a word of warning: do this in very, very private. Do it when everyone else is gone, or asleep, or running power tools. This isn't something you can do casually, on the side of the tub while everybody's getting ready in the morning. This isn't really even something you want to do in your own closet, if anyone else is IN the house. Nobody else will tell you this, but I will, because I love you and I want you to not traumatize the people you live with. It makes a horrible noise. The kind of noise that makes people's eyes water, that brings children running because they just *know* something gross is going on, that will, should your significant other ever hear it, bar you from foot rubs for months.

And that's it. I think EmBaby's asleep, and we can go watch a movie now!

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Famous Last Words

Remember when I said, just last Tuesday, "Really must remember to take the pocket calendar with me into town, and never do that, again"? It was too late. I'd somehow planned the same. exact. schedule for last Thursday, as well. Friday wasn't much better. By Saturday, I was so excited to be able to not move, I slept right through Jacob's practice that morning! Thankfully, Zorak took him. I got up when they called to say they were on their way back. Then, in a show of solidarity (and appreciation), I took the afternoon practice, and Zorak got the PM nap. Lovely weekend. Not horribly productive, but lovely.

And that was the end of Spring, maybe? Sunday we had rain, all day. Today we had snow. Spring is a little gun shy in the South. It teases us every year, like this. Three of the kids are down with colds, though, and I was so thankful Em's practice today was canceled because I'd have felt compelled to take her. She's not sick, but it's hard to play ball when you're slathered in hand sanitizer and tea tree oil. Plus, it makes you smell funny. Nobody wants to be the smelly kid, no matter how healthy you are.

Hopefully, the wonderful average temperatures will soon return, and we'll be back out and about, puttering in the gardens. The kids are starting to climb the walls, just a bit.
Yeah, it's cute until somebody drops on an unsuspecting sibling... Come on, nice weather!

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Well, Hello!

The weekend flew by with an unbelievably busy schedule, but it was so thoroughly enjoyable. We had company, company, and more company. Ate a lot of food, shot a lot of rounds, and shared a lot of laughs. Can't ask for much more than that.

Thanks to the rain, baseball was canceled both Friday and Saturday, which gave me not only a bit of a reprieve, but a false sense of security, as well. Then it didn't rain yesterday, and we paid for it, today, with three different doctor's appointments, two baseball practices, and Cub Scouts. (Really must remember to take the pocket calendar with me into town, and never do that, again.)

On the upside, I did manage to get the crockpot cranking before we left. Yes, I'm now 2-for-70 on that, and Rockin' the Domesticity. (It wouldn't be nearly as exciting if I pulled it off all the time, now, would it?)

We're getting settled in with the new doctor for the kids. I really like him. The kids seem to like him. And, joy of joys, he hasn't pulled the Voice of God act on us, when it comes to some of our less-than-mainstream lifestyle choices. If I had any ability, at all, I'd sing, or burst into dance. But, like I said, I really like him, so I'll refrain and just smile and nod a lot.

Me-Wa found a chiropractor he trusts, and recommended him to us. I went first, to check him out. (Nothing says "Mommy loves you" quite like taking point, right?) I like his method and philosophy quite a bit. Now, after going for almost three weeks, I also like being able to hold my children without my legs going dead numb on me. Haven't been able to do that for the last three babies. This is the first time in over six years, too, that I haven't had constant lower back pain. Wow. John's been seeing him for a week, now, for a few issues. Mainly, he's been having headaches, which the adjustments have nearly eradicated. This is *huge*, and makes a big difference in John's overall outlook on things. It'll also, hopefully, make it easier to pin down the other concerns. Good stuff.

And really, although that doesn't sound like much, it's all I've got, for now. I promised myself I would make a few changes this month: drink more water (still trying to figure out how to do that without giving up the coffee -- I've been tempted to take up drinking soda so I could have something to switch out for the water and still feel like I'm making progress, but that plan, appealing as it is, didn't pass scrutiny); get more rest (this is more an ongoing pursuit than a tangible goal, I get that); live more intentionally (this has been a habit for a while, but sometimes it's good to get back to the basics); and... I've forgotten the rest. Oh! Yes. Be on time more often (yeah). So, with that in mind, I'm going to turn in before it is midnight. It's still close enough to the time change, that my body thinks it's eleven, and I'm hoping to kind of feint a punt and knock it out of the ball park, then come in under par.

Perhaps in April, I'll spend a little time working on my sports metaphors. Until then, Kiss Those Babies!
~Dy

Fashion Friday

The fact that I wrote that title as "Fishin Friday" not once, but three times should tell you something. In fact, it tells you that you need to go talk to Laney about fashion fun - because she actually watches fashion shows and uses words like "kicky" in their proper context. The last thing I had that was "kicky" turns two this month.

Then go talk to Melissa, who actually wrote,

"You could TOTALLY catch a darting kid in these."

Yes, she did. I love her, not least because she survived this particular stage with both her figure and her sense of humor intact.

I've tried to become fashion savvy. I really have. I've culled a number of items from my stash (including the one sweater I loved, but inevitably had the awkward experience of not being the only woman in the room wearing the exact same sweater, just the only woman under 75 wearing it). And also seem to have found some kind of ballpark size range (one that doesn't include anything with flaps, slits, or knit tummy panels) with which to gauge whether it's now safe to buy clothing. Yet I still find myself drawing a complete blank when it comes to fashion.

It doesn't help that Zorak is pretty easy going. I can walk in wearing his jeans, that 75 year-old's sweater, and a pair of wool socks, and he'd hit on me. But I *really* appreciate that about him. And as such, I do try to avoid actually wearing that particular ensemble.

I have boots, but they're not the boots Melissa linked. They're just *boots*. The closest image I can find is this boot, but mine are tan/burgundy. (And yes, I realize that's a picture of men's boots. I'm not sure what that means.) Anyway, I live in them, and it shows. But you really can wear them with anything. Except shorts. Or, I guess one *could* wear them with shorts, but considering I'm only a year or two out from wearing geriatric clothing, it's safe to say I'm not going to do that.

I finally found a pair of jeans that fits *and* is long enough to wear with my one favorite pair of boots. Naturally, now, my therapists, er, sources tell me that cuffing your pants (to MAKE them shorter?!?!?) is the way to go. But... I JUST found pants that are long enough! (I have some freakish deformity that causes me to need the inseam of a small giantess, while only standing 5'6", and yet I still need longer torso'd tops. Still tracking down what went wrong, there.)

And finally, the military-themed piece seems to be making a resurgence. Cargo pants, OD green, a little worn and ragged (paired with something feminine... *shrug*) I, however, married a Navy Vet, not an Army vet and, though I love both my old Sailor and comfortable dungarees, I just don't think that's the theme our fashionistas had in mind...



I'll see you at Laney's and Melissa's!

Kiss those babies!
~Dy