Gosh, but I Am So Old!

I used to be my mother's tech support. I could program the record function on a VCR like a boss. I could scan for channels and get a new remote paired with the TV in no time. And her clocks? They were always synchronized and accurate, never flashing. This morning, it's a different story...

I'm writing this up in Open Office Writer because my internet connection is hinky. I ran the troubleshooter and it said the modem is experiencing difficulties (which is code for, “You have Charter. They're probably down, but they said not to tell you that.”) The troubleshooter suggested rebooting the modem.

Hey, I can do that. I remember doing that, back when you had to set up your modem on the phone that could do pulse/button dial tone! (I got a new phone just so I could do that!) My IT is leaving this year, so I'll just quietly assume my old position. Cool. That's cool.

I peered around the back of the TV and...

You can't be serious! First off, we're missing one – either the router or the modem – but there's only one box back there and I'm pretty sure there should be two. So, if the modem is actually missing, that would explain a lot.

But right now, it doesn't really matter because I can't tell if the one that's left is the router or the modem. It doesn't seem to say, outright, what it is. I feel so old.

And my internet is down SO I CAN'T EVEN LOOK IT UP.

*sigh*

I checked my watch. Hmm 6:30... I wonder how long before I can risk waking my tech support?

Where's my phone? I found it. It's charging. Just need enough charge to figure out if that's the modem behind the TV. If so, I'll need to find out how to reboot it. (Yes, I know you just press the button. But there are a zillion buttons.) And if that's not the modem, well, I'm going to have to wake tech support, then, and inquire just where they've relocated the actual modem to...

And why.

Because I am old and cannot even begin to reason where you'd put a modem if not with the router. (Or vice versa.) But I will! And I will put a note in my journal so that the next time this happens I won't be stuck offline during the prime Quiet Moments of the day.

Be encouraged!

~ Dy

P.S. James got up fairly early this morning, so I just told him the internet was down and he made magic. He also showed me where the modem is living, now. AND gave me a cool trip  -- if you can't remember which is which, just remember that your modem communicates with your ISP (which is easy - the router broadcasts, or routes, things to the devices in the house), so if you find the ISP cable coming out of the wall, you can follow it to the first box you hit and TA-DA, that's the modem. I'm still not remotely prepared for him to leave, but this will make it easier.

Challenges

I don't have legit New Year's Resolutions this year, but I did read the other day that Mark Sisson is doing another Primal Blueprint 21-Day Challenge, and I think I'm in.

I've been contemplating what direction to start plodding for the year, and strength is the one area I'm not feeling too bold about. My eating is dead-on. My rest patterns are not too bad once you factor in for late-night essays and snoring companions. Spiritually, I am very much in the mind of a learner, and that is an excellent place to be. Mentally, always a learner.

But strength? Eh, not so much.

My goals are simple (don't laugh - we all have to start somewhere):

1) I want to do a pull up. Un-assisted. Un-aided. Preferably without having to make too many faces.

2) The rest, I just want to level up from where I am now on each of the four basic movements using Mark's Progressions.

3) I want to use sprints to improve my speed on the 2.6 mi amble by 25%

So, in the morning I will do my assessment of where I am, now. And then I'll get on it.

What are you up to this year?

Be encouraged!

~Dy

It's Not All School

In spite of the fact that paperwork and prodding are taking up a ridiculous amount of time these days, that's not all that's going on (because it's never just one thing, is it?) and there are plenty of fun things happening, as well.

I am down 45 pounds from Christmas 2014! The kids don't really appreciate my enthusiasm over that -- they reply with all the things I've told them over the years. "It's not about a number, it's about how you feel..." And yeah, OK, that's true. It is. But FORTY-FIVE POUNDS IS PRETTY STINKING HAPPY MAKING. And yeah, I feel great. I've ditched a small rucksack of books. An angry toddler. A really terrifying snake. (Truthfully, I don't have a handle on just how big a 45 pound snake would be, but we have cottonmouths, and just thinking about that gives me the willies.)

They actually came to appreciate the magnitude of it when they were watching old clips from Just Dance that winter and caught a Big Foot style sighting of their mother walking across the background.

"Holy cow! Did you see Mom?"

(*rewind, play it again*)

"Whoa! Man, you were... I mean, huh. *shifts voice from incredulity to thoughtfulness* You have lost a significant amount of weight."

*blank stare*

Yes. Yes, I have.

"You must feel SO much better!"

*snortch* Yes. Yes, I do.

And it's not about the number. It's not even entirely about the weight -- I'm guessing that ditching the cancer has done tremendous things for my energy and vigor. :-) But the overall healthfulness is encouraging. Being strong enough to live the life I want to live, and being energetic enough to do it well, are huge blessings that I don't take for granted.

I won't go all door-to-door missionary on you, but if you want to know more, look at Drs. Phinney and Volek and their nutritional ketogenic therapies and way of eating. It's good stuff.

Maybe eventually I'll loose enough weight that I can do a whole pull up, eh? (I kid. I'll never get up to a full pull up.)

Be encouraged!

~Dy

On That First College Acceptance Letter

How your children end up, as adults, is pretty much up to them. It really is. You spend years reminding yourself as they grow that they are nearly adults, now, and they have to make their own decisions. That they have to live with the consequences as well as reap the rewards. That you can't force them to make the same calls you would, and that sometimes they make better calls than you would. But there's a big difference in the philosophical aspect of parenting, and the natural inclinations that drive much of our internal dialogue.

And mostly, we're OK with it. Except when we're not.

While I love my kid, and am proud of the young man he's become, I will not lie to you: getting that first acceptance letter from a college application is a huge relief. At least, it was to me -- not because I felt he was a failure if nobody said yes, but because I was terrified I might have failed him, and that would be proof. Some of combating that is in knowing what path they want to take, and some of it comes from applying to places that are a good fit for them. But still, there's that niggling worry... what if all our decisions have effectively barred you from pursuing the very goals we've fostered?

You spend an inordinate amount of the time right before they leave home vacillating between, "It's really up to them" and "Please, Lord, let me not have broken them". It's a hard, weird process -- one that will strip you of your vanity, expose your deepest fears and failings, bring to light your heart's desires (both for your child and, less altruistically, for yourself), and quite possibly tax your liver. I highly recommend it, though, because I am convinced that if you can hang in there long enough, things are pretty fantastic on the other side. (As my brother-in-law says, an adventure is what you're having once you realize you're not gonna die.)

So. I'm not gonna die.

That makes this an adventure.

If parenting is the process of guiding a born person into self-sufficiency and full development, it is also very much a process of dividing yourself up and apportioning bits of you into this same autonomous creature. Then watching in horror as this individual goes off and acts like, well, an individual -- as if your heart weren't wholly vested in this person's safety and well-being and success.

Your heart, but also a bit of your pride. Particularly if you've homeschooled your now-autonomous individuals. (Although whatever educational path a family has taken, a parent's got a lot vested after nearly two decades. That's just the nature of the process.) And if you've got a child who has decided to go the post-secondary education route, that whole process is very invasive and scary. People with magnifying glasses and deadlines hit you with questions, and make demands for referrals and money. And no matter how fervently you swore you would not default to box-checking and hoop-jumping... well, there you are. It's tempting. Because this is your BABY. And we really don't want to be the reason someone said no.

But you know what? They really are their own persons. You have given them the best of yourself, your time, your talents, and above all, your love. The people or places that recognize whatever kindred energy exists between them will honor that and welcome them in. The people or places that don't are likely not going to be a good fit for them, anyway.

But I recognize that that's a much easier thing to say after one "yes".

Be encouraged!

~ Dy

The Things You Miss

Aside from one child's era of tying things in knots, I've generally loved the weirdness that comes with having children in the house. This latest bit cracks me up...

A friend described it as a hipster plush party! LOVE IT! Everybody should have a party in the hallway. At least once.

Be encouraged!

~ Dy

What's Another Word For...

This week, with scholarship essays, ACT essay prep, and general writing practice, there's a lot of "What's another word for..." going around. It seems like we're all in need of words.

I do love playing that game. It's not really a game-game, but it is absolutely my favorite part of the writing process. Elocution. Wordsmithing. Polishing. Whatever you want to call it, the satisfaction of taking words that convey meaning and turning them into words that drive a point home, or make a point pop, is one of my favorite academic highs. (Can you have academic highs? Is that a thing?)

So, that's the general goings on, here.

What's another word for "trip"?

What's another word for "effectual"?

What's another word for "Aaargghhhh!"

(And then we know it's time for a break.)

But on a more serious note, what are your favorite essay writing tips? I'm asking about things beyond what the College Board or BuzzFeed suggest. Assuming a good night's rest, a well-balanced breakfast... no, wait, that's test prep...

OK, assuming a topic, an outline, and a functional grasp of how words work... what weird, or quirky, or just down-in-the-weeds thing has worked for you or your students? What have you stumbled upon that you don't find everywhere, but wish you'd seen sooner? (Or that you are just really glad you know!)

Be encouraged!

~ Dy

Snow Day!

First snow day of the year!

After the Snowpocalypse a few years ago that brought most of the South to its knees, everyone is a bit twitchy over the potential for snow. The schools are closed. Skate Day is canceled. Even the arsenal is closed today.*

This picture was taken at 10:45 in the morning. (Forecast accumulation says it'll be a bit worse than this. We just thought this was adorable.)

There is, however, no Snow Day for homeschoolers. (Or, rather, no snow day until you can actually play in it.) So the kids are working on writing.

After my dry run with the Prototype Child through the college admissions process, I've decided that we're adding a weekly journaling time to our schedule. This isn't going to be tied to what we're reading or what we're doing, which they can write about any time, but will use various essay prompts I dig up around the web. Theoretically, by the time they're ready to apply, they'll have ample experience with thinking about the sorts of things the essays ask them to think about. (To be truthful, I had thought that was what their education had done, but it turns out as soon as they're asked to jot down a few thoughts about very specific applications of their brains, they draw blanks. I admit I did not see that coming. Good to know now.)

Be encouraged!

~ Dy


*(Please note that it was not because we're all idiots, but because we have no snow removal in place, and also because the South just doesn't get cold and stay cold - it gets cold, warms up just enough to turn everything to slush, then re-freezes and snows over the ice - that's tricky, no matter who you are.)

Herding Cats

A while back there was a technology company that put out a video of cat herders on a kitty drive. It was precious and very well done. (It was also hilarious, and just about every mother who saw it probably considered getting cowboys to help with the child wrangling.) But there were a few lines in the commercial that fit just perfectly:

I'm livin' the dream... I wouldn't do nothin' else... when you bring a herd into town and ya ain't lost a' one of them, ain't a feelin' like it in the world. 

So, James and I went to the community college yesterday to get registered. I went for backup and to offer my mad signature writing services, should they need anything official from the "school". I tried to have some fun with it -- "Just think of me as your own, personal bouncer." -- but he thought that was weird and asked me to stopit.

It took five hours to iron out the few glitches that remained, but our spirits were pretty high. We had fun. (We both talk to strangers, so that's handy.) We talked about big things and little things. We enjoyed each other's company. It was wonderful.

As we headed out we got behind a beautiful young mother with her two little fluffy-headed boys in tow. Both boys were wearing sweats tucked into cowboy boots. It snapped me back 15 years to when the older boys were little, running amok on campus in their capes and shorts and cowboy boots. I couldn't help but make little swooning sounds.

James opened the doors for them, and then I was straddling the two worlds - remembering the children they were and seeing the men they're becoming. Nearly two decades collapsed in on me.

I reached out to the mother and told her the first thing that came out...

They are beautiful. And you won't always be tired, I promise.

She laughed. She said she was glad to hear that, because she would really like to not feel harried but she does find herself wishing they would hurry up and become a little less hard to keep track of. I pointed at mine and told her it will come. And it will feel like it came too quickly and took too long, but that most of parenting is weird like that. Told her she's doing fine, her children are precious, and to hang in there.

Then I had to chase James down to get the keys, and I only got to drive by negotiating away control of the heat and air in the car. It was a hot and sticky, but happy, drive home.

And he's registered for classes, now. Onward we go!

Be encouraged!

~ Dy

Beauty in Life

I've said so many times that God gave us Em because we needed to be reminded that life can (and ought to be) beautiful as well as functional. We can do functional 'til the cows come home, but sometimes it's ugly. She corrects that.

For Christmas, Em had asked for Perler Beads. If you don't have an 8-12yo child in your life, you're probably missing out. They're small, like little pony beads - they have sharp edges like Legos - and they roll like airsoft BBs. So, basically, when I saw that item on her wish list, I immediately scanned for something more reasonable, like a pony or a Disney cruise where you never meet anyone in character costume. Nope. No luck there. The rest of her list was so simple - a sharpie of her own, a soft blanket to replace her gnarly, unsalvageable one... Really, it was a shockingly sane wish list. So, Perler Beads it is!

Recently, I lost my Pampered Chef brown scraper. Since we use nothing but cast iron, and occasionally enameled cast iron, this is A Problem. But I can't find it. It's probably in the upper meadow, and there's probably a perfectly good explanation why, but none of us has any ideas.

And so, one evening, when I started to clean the kitchen, I found this waiting for me at the sink...

She gets functional. But she sees that there should be beauty, as well.

Viewed sensitively and with love; the world blossoms in beauty." ~Kristian Goldmund Aumann

Be encouraged!

~ Dy

Praying

I think there's little quite as healthy for a woman's prayer life than having nearly grown children. Sure, you've spent years praying over their angelic heads while they finally (blessedly!) napped, as they headed off to their first overnight excursion, or took on a new skill. You've prayed for their precious little friends through illnesses and new challenges. You've prayed that they will develop discernment, be kind and generous. Prayed that they will have friends who are, too.

But there's something about the fledging process that will drop. you. to. your. knees.

I don't know if it's the fact that they're semi-autonomous, at least in all the ways that matter. They make most of their own choices, but you've got to watch. Sure, you're still there for advice, or, if need be, to help guide them from going off the deep end, but the reins have been passed at this point, and although you're still in the carriage with them (possibly clutching the railing and trying not to gasp and yell, but I just came out of two new drivers, back-to-back, so that could be me), they are the ones driving their own gig. And all that comes with it - success, failure, lessons learned, hopes nurtured, dreams realized... all of it is in their hands.

The stakes seem immense. (Bigger than they seemed when you were the fledgling with the feel of the reins in your hands!) They seem immense in a world where it seems one mistake, one misstep, one thoughtless moment will mark the end of every opportunity. They seem immense in a world where there is so much pressure to know what you're going to do, but very little expectation of knowing how to actually do anything. They seem heart-wrenchingly immense when you realize that someone else's poor choices could end your child's chance to live the life you've prepared him for.

And that's not even getting to the times that you, with your vantage point of years and failures and learning, can see an easier, quicker, more assured way forward... but they have the reins. They're in the thick of it. They're doing the best they can with the perspective they have.

But there's also something beautiful in it. When you learn to pray, you learn to let go. When you admit your fears, you realize they are not yours alone. When you pour the blessings of your heart out on behalf of someone else, you find your own heart is strengthened and emboldened. So when you look up from your prayer, you don't see a riderless carriage careening off a precipice, you see and adventure unfolding. You see that the carriage has a rider, and that the rider is not alone. And it is good.

I have absolutely no idea how any of this is going to go, but I'm excited more than I'm afraid, and that's a good, good thing.

Be encouraged!

~Dy

The High School Years, and Beyond

Blogging with Littles is easy. They're funny and quirky and sweet. They don't particularly care if you share their stories. Blogging with teens is a little trickier. (Stick with me, here. This isn't going where it looks like it's going, but I have an idea and I need to flesh it out. Lucky you!)

They're still funny and quirky and sweet, but even when you've tried to be thoughtful about your children's stories in the early years, you realize they're old enough to tell their own, now... also, that you've probably botched it many times over the years, anyway. Most bloggers stop writing. I get that. (Heck, I've done that!)

But for people who found encouragement or camaraderie or support in the writings of others, that full stop leaves a weird gap. There are moms out there who've followed bloggers with children a little older than their own*, and they were taking notes. (This, too, I get. I have notebooks, a few stray envelopes, and receipt scraps, filled with the words of wisdom and recipes from women whose children are now in their 20's.) We're left dangling.

"Wait! What about... and then... but... nooooo!" We wail as our tribe disappears into the fog. "How will we find the trail?"

The reality is that everyone's in the fog. Every mother you know who has an eldest child is brand spanking new at whatever she's doing right now. She's got no idea what she's doing. She desperately wants to do it well (just as soon as she can figure out what "it" is), and she mostly doesn't want the follies she's pretty sure she's stumbling into to become a template for anyone else. So she gets quiet. Pulls in. Takes the same conversations once held on a more public forum into private messaging and emails. For her children's sake, she takes it private; for her sanity's sake, she keeps her tribe.

But it's good to encourage others in whatever way you can. Whatever way you are comfortable with. I have one friend who managed to blog through her children's teen years. It was about six years of blogging the word "weird" in all its various forms. I didn't get it until about three years ago. Ohhh, yeah, "weird" about sums it up. She is a rock star, as far as I'm concerned.

Some people like to take it to the street, to make eye contact with weary mothers and give them a thumbs up or whisper, "You've got this." These people are making a difference on the front lines.

Some manage to write, conveying the salmon-like struggle upstream with grace and humor, while honoring their adultish offspring and still ringing true to others. I can't claim to be able to offer that, but it's the direction I'd like to go. I'd also like to revamp my sidebar of blogs with active blogs that are in that stage. An in-the-fog series of beacons, if you will. One of my favorites over the last two years has been Grown and Flown. What are some of yours?

Be encouraged!
~ Dy

* Yes, that part of the sentence is a grammatical nightmare, but the more I worked on it, the more tangled it became. So, the women are technically stealing other people's older children and then following yet other women around the world with the children in tow as they make everyone take notes. The visual's a little whimsical, at least, but I could feel the English language slipping away from my grasp the longer I dinked around with it. So as long as you can figure out what I meant, yay you! Just run with it.

The Good Things

2016 seemed like a grueling year in so many ways. But it wasn't all bad. In an attempt to archive some of the good (and some of it was Very Good, Indeed), I wanted to pick a highlight from each month to share. Like the habit of finding 3 Good Things to list when life gets difficult, but on steroids.

January - Z was gone a lot this year, and Dad Boxes, sent from on the road, were a highlight for everyone.

February - we finally got around to designing and building a coffee table to go with the sofa! I love it!!

Also, Buddy finally got over his fear of the car. (He now hops in, goes all the way to the third row, and refuses to acknowledge that you're even speaking to him until you've taken him for a spin around the courthouse!)

 March -- John and James were both called out for the Order of the Arrow.

 In April, we biked the Silver Comet, starting at the AL/GA boarder.

 Oh, and took pottery. This was a pretty fantastic month.

John, his best bud, and I volunteered at a Spartan Race. (The plan was to use our credit to race in May, but that fell through. Still, this was a pretty fantastic experience.)

May - prom! Steampunk. Because that's awesome.

And we bought kayaks for the Littles. OH, why did we wait so long? This was huge fun!

And Chemistry. Every week, with two other families. The house is still standing. There were a few explosions. Semi-controlled, and outside. So that was nice. This was hard, and good, and I'm SO glad we did this.

Jacob got to go to Space Camp. He's hooked, he's got his eye on Mars, and is saving to go back for the next level in 2017.

June - James was selected as a model for the Alabama Fashion Alliance. This changed the trajectory of the entire rest of the year. So much to learn, but such an interesting industry. And he loves it.

And back to Colorado! It was hard - very hard - to come back that last time. And did I tell you we hiked the Manitou Incline? I only got 3/4 of the way up before the Littles mutinied, but James and John made it to the top. Also, we got lapped by an octogenarian who clearly runs it daily just because he can, but even that was encouraging.

July -- We tried Durian for the first time. Because how can you not?

And then Jacob's best bud came home and spent a week scrabbling about the rocks with us.

August -- *phew* This one was hard. (That's not me in the pictures - as far as I know, there are no photos of me doing this. But I did it!) For someone who has no depth perception, is uncoordinated and afraid of heights, this was a gigantic feat. Scouting is cool.

September -- James had his first runway show.

And his second...

October -- we were still out in the kayaks every chance we got this Summer. Er, and fall.

And James received the rank of Eagle Scout!

November -- there's been a lot of fiber art action going on, here. I love these little miniature felted critters that Em made.

A visit from friends from out West!

And a birthday outing! (Actually, a lot of the kids turned 18 this year. This has been bittersweet, but the excitement and anticipation win out because they are just. such. great. young men and women.)

December -- we made it. Full lap. Holy cow.

Here's to 2017 bringing us a time of learning, discernment, joy, growth, support (both given and received)...

Be encouraged!
~Dy

The Glamorous Side

Do you know what I did today?

I kept a straight face as I helped my eldest son parse the intricacies of communicating with the staff at the local community college. The faculty may be great, but man, their office staff needs some help. We'll have to go down there when they re-open, because as things stand right now, a hold on his account that should have expired at the end of this semester is currently set to expire "December 2099", which, you know, seems a bit drastic for anything not involving criminal or ethical breeches. But the best part is that the dual enrollment coordinator has informed him (in writing, I'm not making this up) that State law prevents that date from being changed.

I don't know. Maybe he pissed off the Governor.

Know what else I did?

I looked for colleges for me! Well, not for me, initially. John had sent me some things to check out, so I started looking on his behalf, but then... there are some really cool academic programs out there. And the next thing I knew, I was looking at family housing in Las Vegas, New Mexico. It's a good thing he's motivated and focused, because I fear I am going to be no help, at all.

I also tallied grades and updated the transcripts, which felt a lot like that image, just up there. Good times. I actually figured out how to upload a correction to the Common App (these things - all things applying for college - should come with donation buttons and a note box: "Yeah, this was on me. My bad. He's actually better at math, but we didn't think it wise to let the student calculate his own GPA. Turns out, we probably should have. But, well, yay for honest students? And did I mention he can math good? So, uh, here's coffee money. Get the Grande. Love ya!")

Actually, it's probably best to just make that available after the decisions are in. I'd still send coffee, even if they said no.

And then, I printed out John's Spring Semester. Got it bound, found a great graphic for the cover... realized I was probably just procrastinating at that point, and got back to business. I can't believe he's also almost done. Just, wow. This is crazy.

In the down times between all that, I ironed a thousand perler bead sets. My plan, there, is to let the process just burn itself out. But y'all are gettin' plastic keychains for every major gift giving occasion this year. Fair warning.

That was the glamorous day. And if you've been homeschooling for any length of time, you know just how shiny and exhilarating a freshly bound planner can be... not even kidding.

Be encouraged!
~ Dy

Making Plans, Making Space

The day was filled with Good Things.

I spent some time today getting my planner squared away for the new year. It's looking good. Looking busy. The first week of January looks like a total pain in the ass, but after that, it should be pretty straightforward and doable. I'll take it.

John's dice from The Dice Shop arrived today! They are much nicer than I was anticipating. He is a happy, happy camper. If you have someone in your life who would appreciate some good dice (and, it turns out, there is such a thing - I did not know this before), I would absolutely recommend The Dice Shop. Great communication, easy to navigate site, good prices, and fantastic dice. Just order early enough for shipping. (Although, I will say, it wasn't Royal Air that was the sticking point in the shipping. *aherm* USPS... we're lookin' at you!)

We worked on paperwork and read and visited. James popped a dozen more pieces of paper in the mail. (This is my penance for not being a regular letter writer. It's got to be.)

It's quiet, here, and that's nice. We're hoping 2017 will bring us art, outings, friends, healing, growth, service, adventure, learning, understanding, and love.

Be encouraged!
~Dy

Merry Christmas

Those are bottles of Harry Potter Butterscotch Beer, not actual beer.

This was the world's most laid-back Christmas. I found replacement stockings for three of the five children. Everyone agreed they'd rather wait and get one they love than to get a new one just for the sake of it. So, maybe next year we'll get the other two fixed up. We decorated. We planned a simple meal. We set it up so that there was no stress and then we said yes to every invitation and event we could. We relished our friends and loved ones. We observed Advent, and spent a lot of time delving more deeply into what it looks like to live out our faith -- in the home, in the community, in the congregation. It was good.

On the less spiritual end, I think we nailed most of the gifts, and other than James' incredulity when he thought I'd paid $125 for a pair of pants-that-he-didn't-even-particularly-want, all the presents were pretty spot-on and appreciated. (And, for the record, no, I did not spend that much on a pair of pants - they were on sale at a screaming discount, and since he'd worn them for a photo shoot recently, I knew for a fact they fit. Can't walk away from that.)

Also, don't trust estimates that say shipping from the UK should arrive in "5-7 days". That is a lie. At least, it is in December. We still have two packages that haven't arrived, and tracking is useless. But they'll show up eventually. Or not. Either way, it's all good.

We had a lovely visit with the Godparents today. The house is still decorated, but the residue of Christmas Day has been tidied and dealt with. So we could just sit and be together. Good stuff.

I plan to use the coming week to create a plan for the Spring semester, get lesson plans squared away and make sure we have (or rather, can locate...) all the books we'll need. And then, on to 2017!

Be encouraged!

~Dy

The End

We've wrapped up quite a bit this week...

Z finished his class, passed the course, and has a nifty certificate for it. He's one step closer to getting the certification he's been working toward, so that's exciting. They keep changing the requirements for the certification, and while this is good - in that they're raising the bar - it's a little like trying to catch a carrot that's dangling from your own head. There's no grandfathering in to a specific set of requirements, and his year-of-travel last year put him out of the course just long enough that he'll have more courses to complete after this. But for now, he's done. And he's going to rest his brain for a bit before diving back in. I don't blame him. It's good to have him back!

James is just about done with the semester. Time to apply for internships, pursue getting signed with an agency... do whatever he's going to do from here. It's exciting. And weird. And not a little terrifying. He's got most of his college applications done, essays and all. I'm really proud of the work he's put in this year, and of the man he's becoming.

Everybody else is done, too. John's working his ice cream gig and learning new songs on his guitar. Em's still making Christmas presents. Jacob has holed up with the Legos the past few days, decompressing and enjoying some down time.

Jase is reading the first five chapters of the first Ranger's Apprentice book so that Jacob will read the first five chapters of the first Warriors book. It's some kind of sibling-instigated cultural exchange agreement. Cracks me up, but I think it's brilliant.

And soon, we'll wrap up the year. Just like that. For all its ups and downs, it's been quite the experience. I'm rather looking forward to 2017.

Be encouraged!
~Dy

Community

We have the neatest community, and today was such a treat -- we got to catch the final hours of the opening exhibit of Rice Ball Press, the brainchild and labor of love of Elaine Landers. She recently graduated from the Savannah College of Art and Design and has started this business. Although the business is based in Atlanta, our wee community got first dibs by virtue of being where she's from. Score!

The art was impressive. And Elaine was on hand to explain the backstory for each piece (storytelling taken to its full expression), as well as how the various types of art were made (Em was in heaven!) She's not only incredibly talented, but quite kind, and we thoroughly enjoyed our stop at the gallery.

Take a few minutes to visit her site and see what she has up. I didn't take any pictures other than this one:

Mostly because I can't do her images justice, and they really deserve it. (Isn't she lovely, though? Quite an impressive lady.)

One of the things she shared that I so appreciated, and I hope the kids caught hold of, as well, is that she graduated with a degree in printmaking and a minor in photography -- but she'd started as a sculptor. It was only as she explored other classes that she found things she loved more. And it wasn't until later in her academic career that she found her niche and passion, where she excelled and was happiest. What a great reminder for young people, that you don't have to know exactly where you're going when you set out on your adventure. Just move forward, in a good direction, and be open to the lovely paths and rabbit trails along the way. You never know when one of those will turn out to be your trail!

Be encouraged!
~Dy

It Is Time

James went to a party last night with friends. I have no idea how it went because I went to bed long before he got home. Z was up doing homework, and I'm out of things to watch on my own, so I read and got sleepy. I have my ringer volume set to Mind Numbingly Loud, so if there'd been an emergency he could have reached me. I'd have likely shown up looking like someone from an archived episode of Cops, but still, there. That's what counts, right? Pass the Okayest Mother of the Year Award this way, please.

This is not James getting home from his party. This is John, who was in charge of casting music while the Littles decorated the tree. Bonus points if you recognize the video.

We're nominally still doing school. In my head. Actually, right now, Jase is devouring the next in the Warriors (cat) books, and John is in the basement playing his favorite video game. (The basement is nearly finished - it's not as creepy as it sounds.) Everyone else is either sleeping in, or lying in bed praying I won't come poke them. And I haven't the umpf to poke them. Clearly, it's time for Christmas Break.

So today we'll wrap the rest of the presents. I will take notes as we wrap and make sure I haven't missed something important. I'm still waiting on a few packages, because I can't get my financial shizzle together in August and shop like a grown-up. Mahabis (that's James big gift this year) has awesome tracking info... until the package leaves the UK. After that, it all goes dark. I have no idea where his shoes are, if they're nearly here, or if they're now decorating the happy feet of a Somali pirate. And we'll clean a bit. Because that makes everything better.

James has to take his AP Physics final exam today. He won't let me make excited happy faces until that's over. (But I am totally making them in my head!)

Oh! We made liver pate yesterday. It's ostensibly "mellowing", or something, in the fridge, and we'll have it Christmas Eve. It tasted pretty good, although I don't know if it will taste good enough to overwhelm the visual... issues. (That is one unattractive dish!) But it was fun to do, we learned some new techniques, and so that was fun. I've got a package of Braunschweiger, just in case the pate is a no-go.

Be encouraged!
~Dy

Party Fun

We made it to the church's Christmas party last night, and I am so glad we went. (It was dark, and cold, and we were kind of ready to pile up on the couch and watch Foyle's War...) But we went, and I am so glad we did!

The teens took The Resistance to play - it's a guaranteed ice breaker, and, in fact, the families with teens were the last to leave because they were waiting on the kids. Gotta love that.

We brought ice cream cones for the little ones to decorate as trees, with frosting and sprinkles. Yes, I brought sugar. I know. But the sticky thank you hugs I got were totally worth it.

Father Geoff came dressed as a Wise Man. He also brought Frankincense (in the form of incense), which was rather clever. Next year, we're going to have to step up our "festive garb" game, for sure.

The food was amazing. The hosts had a shrimp boil, and everyone brought sides to share. There's just something about shared food... it's good for the soul. It's good to nourish and be nourished in turn, and while "potluck" doesn't sound particularly inspiring, it's actually quite an ennobling way to gather for a feast when you think about it.

And people shared - they shared their happy memories of years past, their concerns and hope for the years to come, their experiences and their ideas. Truly, it was a wonderful evening. Totally worth staying dressed and braving the cold for!

I'm not sure what series of thoughts brought this plan to fruition,
but it's hilarious and I could not resist a photo of it.

Shopping With the Lone Girl

Em is such a happy, sweet, insightful girl. She brings us a balance of beauty and surprise. She's also got the straight man shtick down like a pro, and we often have to do a double take to tell if she's joking. Occasionally, she'll be trying to talk about something lovely, or thoughtful, and a brother will pop off with a fart joke... that's when she turns to me and says, "Would you please get me a sister?" But most of the time, she's pretty content with her home of males.

The other day, I took her Christmas shopping with me. We haven't really done that before, which I hadn't realized. Christmas shopping for a large family in a small house is a series of insane acrobatic maneuvers and online shopping. That's just the only way to do it. And we don't really do "girls day out", or shop-for-fun, or things like that. It's not some moral thing on my part, just not something we get around to. The kids are usually divvied up by age groups or interest, not gender, and while some of it is logistics, some of it is practicality. We do things together, and we thoroughly enjoy them, just not shopping. But this time, we did. Just she and I. And she was *shocked* at how expensive it is to buy Christmas gifts for half a dozen people.

First, though, she needed pants. We've been so blessed with hand-me-downs for her that we seldom need to buy her more than socks, unders, and shoes. Not really exciting stuff. But right now, if the pants are long enough, you could fit two of her in the waistband. If they fit in the waist, they're capris. Not so great for winter wear.

Now, this is my secret Achilles heel. The boys have their styles, and those styles are functional, straightforward, and... not a lot of fun to shop for. Black and soft, or OD Green and sturdy -- Bam, done. But her? She's a wild card on style - color, texture, fabric choice - it's a world of possibility! I love to window shop for her and, had she been an only child, we'd probably be broke from impulse buys because I wouldn't have had the boys there to whisper, "Focus. We're here for socks, Mom. Focus." Plus, because she's so readily pleased, it's even more fun. She is, however, incredibly practical. She found a style of pant that is comfortable and feels good and she was ready to go. I had to convince her to at least get a couple pairs, maybe in different colors. Couldn't talk her into the long plaid tunics or the adorable print leggings, but she agreed to get a couple of long sleeve shirts to supplement her current options. Then she spied a pair of cranberry jeans like mine, and she loved them. "These are just like yours!" So we got those, too, because how fun is that? (I could not pay the boys to wear matching clothes with me on purpose! Gonna take this win while I can.) Eventually, she was squared away and then she proceeded to herd me back to checkout by whispering, "Focus. We're here for Christmas gifts, Mom. Focus."

Then we hit the serious Christmas shopping -- goodies for John and Jacob, and the perfect gift for James... just-the-thing for Jase (she'd found it in September and has been reminding me daily, so I don't forget - thank God they hadn't sold out yet). We stopped for lunch, and wrapped it up in time to join the boys at Game Day. (I've been shuffling bags from room to room ever since. We should have bought wrapping paper while we were out!)

The restaurant where we ate lunch was a little loud, and it was hard to hear, so she started signing to me across the table. BRILLIANT! We had a mostly-silent lunch, punctuated by bouts of laughter and her declaration that this is really useful for loud spaces.

I think it took going out shopping for the boys to kick start her into thinking of things she would like to have. Up until now, she'd asked for a set of Perler beads and that. was. it. Yesterday, she handed me her notebook to show me that she'd made a list. It is so sweet. (Please ignore the spelling and my weird shadow puppet action, there.)

A sharpie? Her own sharpie. That's a pretty sane request in this house. I might ask for one, too. And I think I know just the place to find a perfect replacement blanket.

Be encouraged!

~Dy