Intelligence, Potential and School, Oh, My!

I am feeling better tonight for the first time in about a month, so let's play!

Murray's articles (linked in the comments section here, if you haven't read them and would like to) have brought up discussions of all kinds, ranging from "ditto" to "NOOOO", and, fortunately, delving into deeper waters on both fronts: agree, disagree... OK, three fronts if you count the, "well, partially agree/disagree" front. What's got me giddy is that there is discussion. People are thinking, articulating, questioning and answering. We're INGing, folks, and not just the ugly ones, like gesturing and skulking. These are good INGs. Anyhow, for fun, I'd like to invite anyone who has written on this subject to please leave a comment and link to it. All sides welcome. I think there's plenty of interest, and it would be fun. So link away, cyberfriends!!

Two to start you off:
Kids Out and About's Deb Ross has written her thoughts on why she disagrees with Murray's basic premise.
Steph also wrote on this topic, from the perspective of agreement with Murray's thoughts.

In general, I do agree with Murray. I'll say upfront that I think we're asking the wrong questions, and so the answers aren't going to mean much. I'll also put it out there that I don't have all the answers, to any of these questions, right or wrong. My sphere of influence begins with the children I am responsible for, and rapidly decreases in strength as it spreads beyond that arena. Those whose lives I impact, I try to impact in a positive way, in an encouraging way, not because I think we are all equally educable (I don't) but because I believe we are all equally valuable, and thus, worthy of encouragement. As one of my mother's doctors told her, "Ideally, you'd eat better, exercise more, quit drinking and smoking, and stop being so grouchy. But my job is to work with you where you are, and that's what I'm going to do." These sorts of dialogues often beg a utopia that does not now exist, has never in the past existed, and most certainly will not in the future exist, neither through legislation or funding. Ever. That much I do know.

So. Not everyone is equally educable. Yes, it's difficult to say that without offending someone, somewhere. Although I hold this belief, I found myself a little stunned when my sister-in-law (whom I love but generally disagree with on everything political, social and spiritual), said that not every child can be taught to read well. What?! You're a reading advocacy, pro-federal funding, NEA-backing, reading teacher! How can you say that? Turns out, she's run into many children who simply haven't got it in them to learn to read with fluency, let alone an any given grade level. Wow. That certainly sounds like a harsh condemnation of a child's future. Immediately, the mind begins reeling, sifting through files, ideas, programs, medical data... there must be some way, we tell ourselves... It's not a good feeling, in our guts, to think that, in a society which has put such an elevated status for "higher education" onto the field, some people cannot attain proficiency to a degree that will allow (advancement? access? _______? - this portion often remains empty in these discussions.) And yet, I had to agree with her. We know people who are like that. The matter (grey matter, IQ, potential, whatever you want to call it) simply is not there to work with. So, no, I don't believe everyone is equally educable. I've seen enough examples of that than to be able to claim otherwise. But I'm going to ask whether that ought to be the focus? Should we spend our resources trying to make everyone equally capable in all areas? Should we find fault with anyone who asserts that not everybody is smart enough to be a rocket scientist? Or, take that a bit further, is there any shame in not being the smartest, in knowing there are those who are smarter?

I would say that much of the negative reaction to the premise of educable inequality is grounded in a suspicion that anyone who believes there are levels of educability must consequently believe there's a direct correlation to value as a human. (Period. I'm not talking about contributions to humankind, but simply as. a. human.) I'd say it's wrong to make that assumption. The very few people I've encountered who believe that intelligence equates to superiority as a person, believed both that they were inordinately intelligent and superior to others, and were, in fact, neither. However, it might be somewhat naive to say that those of lesser ability can be anticipated to make greater achievements. More on that, later.

I like what Aunt B has said, "We're all just one accident away from not having a good brain." She's right. All of us. Nobody's exempt from that, and the fact that you've avoided The Big Konk on the Head does not imbue you with superpowers, or First Citizen status. It simply means you haven't been dealt that hand. Yet. That's all.

But unless, or (God forbid) until, you get the Konk, you've got some matter to work with. How much? And that's where the breakdown occurs. The measurable IQ, as defined by science (Murray uses the term, g, in speaking about this amount of matter), hasn't been shown to be dynamic over the long run. It simply hasn't. People ask, to what extent are external forces, such as diet, exercize and environment, or the internal point of attention you choose to give to any given thing, able to affect your matter? A slacker, with any amount of matter, is not going to achieve much. However, a brilliant and highly-mattered slacker is likely to achieve more, with less effort, than a mildly-mattered individual with a relatively good work ethic.

Does this variance come into play? What about long-term results? Would the stamina required for high level educability weed out even the most talented slacker? Does it matter, or is that factor zeroed-out in this discussion? I don't know. I'm not certain what the definitions are, to be honest. When dealing with education, we're usually talking about return on investment. Where will each individual, and society, be best served by the use of the resources available for education? Is that why people get antsy, feeling that somebody won't feel empowered to hear he's not the academic equivalent of star quarterback material? I'm not sure.

So we speak of inclination, of "natural abilities". "Natural ability" could well be the layman's method of gauging intelligence. We don't have ready access to psychometric methodology or laboratories, so we go with what we can see, what we can tangibly use for our models. Again, I don't know. But, in looking at natural ability, you may be more inclined in one direction than another. Most of us are. You may be able to look at an abstract of a rocket engine and put together a prototype with a dremel tool and a safety pin, while the rest of us stand around, scratching our behinds and trying not to look lost. If that's the case, couldn't an argument be made that more of your matter is dedicated to that direction? Or even, that you've got more matter to allocate? People do have different abilities, differing skills, and widely varying levels of each, a fact which, in our society, it's near-heresy to say.

To take a physical, rather than mental, example, let's look at me. I'm not what you'd call a weakling. But I'm nowhere near as strong as Zorak. Nor as coordinated. If you need something extremely heavy moved via an indirect route that will involve an elevation change, I'm pretty useless as anything other than a witness for the EMTs. I could focus, train, work hard, and dedicate everything I am and everything I have to becoming the absolute strongest I can be... and Arnold Schwarzenegger could still knock me out in three seconds flat. I couldn't even pretend I could outrun the man. It would be over before it began.

I have no doubt there are people who could do the same thing with me cognitively. I'm no idiot, but I am not a genius. No amount of study could make me such. I could, with an exorbitant amount of effort and focus, become an engineer. My home would suffer, my children would be without on many fronts, my husband would wonder if I'd left him completely. I would have no time, effort, or energy left to engage in any other activities that make me a productive, contributing member of this society. And in the end, I would have a degree, and be an engineer. No guarantees, even at that point, that I would be a good one. Would it be worth it? What would be the benefit, both to myself (would I be a better, more fulfilled person? a better woman?) and to my society (would I be a better citizen? voter? wife? volunteer?) Perhaps those are the questions we should be asking.

Perhaps, rather than asking whether it's wrong to try to level the playing field, or whether it's right to put inordinate amounts of energy into making us all college scholars, we ought to look at what we can invest in each child to help him become the most productive, responsible, contributing, and yes, fulfilled citizen he can be.

And within my sphere of influence, I have set the bar high. Not so high that they can't clear it, but high enough that they'll have the satisfaction of a Job Well Done when they have cleared it. One of the benefits of individualized education, and personalized goals for education, I suppose.

NO ANSWERS FOR YOU!

You people didn't even TRY! Nobody guessed! *pout*

We're not telling, now.

:-D

Dy

...chatting

Well, you know, the problem with making the blogrun, answering the phone, and chatting before actually blogging is that I get all my chatting done, and then, well, I'm done.

Tonight I've read about and discussed (both online and in person) Clinton's announcement, "universal healthcare", the rising price of corn and it's impact in Mexico, Roe V. Wade, knitting, the joys of little boys and winter snowstorms, precious babies, weird years, The Weather Channel's Heidi Cullen, the absolute heart-pounding glee of discovering a reluctant reader curled up quietly enjoying a book sans prompting (!!!), how completely and utterly children nestle themselves into our hearts, a friend's return "home" after a prolonged time away, how to help more and be better at the things we do, whether we have an obligation to do so, Murray's article on education and intelligence (Steph, I started to comment, got carried away and shelved it - will probably blog on that this week, though).


~~~ Insert Time Warp ~~~

OK, I'd planned to link to a selection of news stories on each of these topics, from a few perspectives, but I got lost here, and now it's after midnight. But that's a truly fascinating site!

And so, now I'm *really* done and ready to collapse. So, rather than links or kibbitzing, I'll just show you what we did for fun after lunch today. The boys love word games. The other day, Zorak drew a rocket and a baby head, and asked the boys what it was. (Anybody know? I'll answer in the comments.) Today, they wanted to do more. So we did "Birds". How many "birds" can you find in this photo? (Some of them are horribly obscure, but we were in the Zone already, and there was no going back. And I apologize now for one of them. I think you must be a little boy, or have been a little boy, to get it.)



Oh, and the thing in the bottom left - not a bird. It's a Mario Kart thing. And the road w/ the box? It's a question: what's in the box? (look carefully)

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Post-Birthday Day

We had a lovely time Sunday, Officially Observing EmBaby's Birthday. There's just something special about your first introduction to Flaming Food! She warmed up to it after the boys blew out the candle for her.


In keeping with The Nature of Things, Zorak and I aren't strong on the "planning" aspect of things, or rather, the "coordinating" part, but we have friends who are gracious about it. I had to use my "Get Out of Hostess Jail Free" card, because Zorak told our guests to arrive a full hour and a half earlier than I'd said I could have everything ready. (Honest misunderstanding. I think.) But then, they called two hours before *that* time to say they were on their way. Oy! Well, folks, at that point, you're just not going to get the full presentation. I need a shower, so make yourself comfortable. Drinks are in the fridge. Probably some snacks in there, too. We visited, we cooked, we ate.


I experimented a bit in the kitchen, which I probably should not ever do in front of others. I hope they forgive me. The lasagna (not an experiment) turned out great. The breadsticks (not normally an experiment, but we'd thrown together a new batch of French Bread mix and it turned out, well, not so much). They were kinda gummy. Well, that's embarrassing. Salad - yeah, I'd have to work pretty hard to botch a salad. It was good.


The Namaste cake turned out lovely, as usual (I love Namaste!) I tried my hand at making my first-ever poured icing. Um... huh. Well, at least I know what to do differently next time! I let it get too warm, so it didn't adhere well to the sides, as you can see. And, as you can see, the boys didn't care one whit what it looked like. I love these ages.


And now, the kitchen is clean, the children are detoxed (detoxing... it's a process), and it's back to our regularly scheduled programming. I will leave you with gratuitous first birthday cake photos.

"Are you seriously putting that on my tray?"

"MMM! Have you tried the stuff on top of this thing? MMM!"

"OH! You mean like this!"

Kiss those sweet, sticky babies!
~Dy

What A Year!

A year ago, our family grew by one. A girl. Our sweet BabyGirl. Oh. My. Word. She was so tiny. So precious. So new. And she has been busy!

In the last year, Miss Emily has done quite a lot. For starters, she's tripled her birth weight. That's quite a feat! (The boys are envious.)

She's dropped the "Miss" portion of her name. And the "Emily" part. She answers mostly to "BabyGirl", now. Much as we've done with Smidge, I imagine we'll have to start calling her by her proper name at some point. But right now, "BabyGirl" just fits so beautifully.

She developed a healthy sense of humor straight off. It's served her well so far. (She may actually think this is a joke, and is waiting for her real family to come get her... any day now... waiting...)

She's wrapped more than one person around her wee, pudgy fingers with those eyes, and that giggle, and those cheeks...

She's known love, and warmth, and comfort. No matter where we've gone.

She entered the covenant family of believers, and inherited more family than she knows.

She spent the summer being quite the little hostess, gettin' tips from Granny on all the good things in life.

Once she outgrew the bouncy seat, she discovered the joys of alternative transportation! *beep* *beep*

Before long, BabyGirl was ready to see the world. Well, Florida, anyway. What fun! (And that hat? That is inter-generational payback. She will hate this photo one day, and I will think it's the sweetest thing ever. And I have three Grandmas from the boat trip who'll back me up.)

She's become a daring eater. This will not be her only taste of sushi, I'm sure.

She figured out what's behind those pesky zippers on the diaper bag. (And how cupboards work, where the pots are hid, the best place in the boys' closet to hide, and all the good spots for snuggling!)


And a lot of the time, she just sat in awe of her beautiful world.

And we sat in awe, seeing the world through her beautiful eyes.



Happy First Birthday, Sweet BabyGirl! You've changed our home in so many ways, all of them good. You've brought us joy, and delight, and wonder. Just when we thought our lives couldn't be any more full, you came along. We love you, BabyGirl!

*(That lovely white dress up at the top? It's a gift from her birthday buddy, sweet S. J.. Thank you, Mere! She loves her special dress! And HAPPY BIRTHDAY, SARAH JANE!!)

Happy Baby Kisses All Around!
~Dy

In twenty years,

I hope to be sitting at the banquet table for the wedding of one of my children. I can see it now... Everyone gathered together, all decked out in their wedding garments, surrounded by the people and things that make them happy, the band playing uplifting music... ah, it will be lovely.

And Zorak and I are going to sit there, beaming on the inside, and...

bicker.

That's right. We're going to touch each other's plates, and whine about it. He's going to swing his leg and kick *my* chair. Repeatedly. Ignoring all warnings. One of us will keep moving, and the other one will get up and FOLLOW, plate and all. And right in the middle of each toast, one of us will shout, "Would you stop TOUCHING ME!"

And that will be just the beginning, because by that time, I'm sure there will be payback galore built up from these four, and it's going to take some ingenuity on our part, but I'm pretty sure we will be able to cram all of it into the wedding festivities. Oh, yes. We're gonna party like somebody else is footin' the bill, folks!

OK.

Probably not. Truthfully, I am deeply grateful that neither of our parents did that at our wedding. Whooeee, that would've been one humdinger of a spectacle (we had a lot of payback coming from our raisings). And I guess that's the thing about parenting. You remind your children of a thousand rules of behavior a thousand times over: do not kick your brother's chair; do not put your fingers in someone else's food; do not get up and follow someone who has just stood, demanded in no uncertain terms that you leave him alone, and stormed off (actually, you may want to cover that one a few extra times - could save a life some day). And still, five years down the road, you find yourself tensing up, bracing yourself for combat because you *know* you're going to have to say it 1,001 times. Or more. And you dream of the day you can start a food fight at your son's promotion party. Or play frisbee with lunchmeats at your daughter's college graduation. Or pick a brawl at the wedding...

But when the time comes, those thousand and one (or million and one) reminders have kicked in and done their job. You've done your job. And suddenly, you realize you don't want to ruin it. You've spent all these years helping them learn not to ruin it for themselves... you want to sit back, wallow it in, think up new things to worry about, and love them. Just like you've loved them through everything.

I will probably look at Zorak, though, and smile mischeviously when he whispers, "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" (Because I never am, and we both know that, but at that point, we may just be...)

But just to be on the safe side, don't sit near us at the wedding, ok?

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Bird Lists (and stuff)

Because there's always "stuff".

Actually, I'll start with birding sites. I knew, growing up, that people bird watch simply because my Dad was a bird watcher. (Of course he was - his heyday was the well-off late 1940's to the 1960's - Weatherby shotguns, hard liquor at ten in the morning, horse races, social causes, mint juleps, oil paintings of hunting dogs, and, naturally, birding.) OK, truth be told, I have no clue how bird watching made it in there with the rest of it, but he had volumes of bird watching books. Stacked neatly beside his thirty year collection of vintage Playboy joke books. When he and my mother married and we moved into his house, the bird books were allowed to stay... and so, I knew people watched birds.

Sadly, I had no real interest in being still and quiet for any period of time, and he, in his late 60's by that point, had no desire to try to make me still and quiet. So the bird books gathered dust, and we both quietly wished Mom had chucked those instead of the joke books.

Fast forward twenty some-odd years, we sit at the breakfast table, and the boys. go. nuts. watching birds out the window. They used to ask me what each bird was, but outside of upland water fowl, your basic crow, jay, cardinal, and sparrow, I'd pretty much have to make things up. "Oh, that looks like the two-footed catfood warbler," or "I do believe that is a tasty-breasted southern wood quail". Eventually, they quit asking for my input, which was for the best. But now, they're making it up themselves. "That's a nuthatch!" "Yeah, right, it's too big. It's obviously the two-footed catfood warbler Mom told us about last Spring!" Oy. OK, time to get serious. So, we sat down and spent a delightful morning looking at bird identification sites, listening to bird songs, and playing reindeer games... er, bird games. I don't know, but it was fun, and we've all learned something, and they're hooked.

Our favorite site today was, hands down, Cornell Lab of Ornithology's All About Birds. For reader-friendly, get-you-started websites, this one is great. I think it'll become a daily reference point for us as we start into the realm of bird watching and getting to know the neighbors in the area. Navigation through the site is easy and intuitive. It's hard to get lost. You don't have to dig too hard to find pictures (always a plus for the attentionally challenged among us).

Our next favorite today would have to be the pages of photos and songs collected at Birding.com. I don't know how fast the downloads are if you're on dialup, but they're worth listening to. And of course, if you start the children being still and quiet *now*, then, in theory, it won't be such a struggle later. I appreciate the tremendous effort that enthusiasts have put into some of these pages. Doug, over at Nature's Songs, in particular, has set up his site in a way that makes you feel you're having lunch with him right after he's just found each song. His enthusiasm is catching (and we loved the way he detailed the conditions and circumstances under which he recorded each song). Wow. Suddenly, this whole process doesn't feel so intimidating! This, we can do!

Finally, if you're feeling pretty warmed up and ready to go, The Nutty Birdwatcher has some detailed information, and an interesting site.

Obviously, this is just a smattering, but this is where we spent our morning. Grab a snack, a warm cup o' your favorite winter beverage, and gather the kids for a little bird watching warmups. Then trek outside to see what's going on in the neighborhood!

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Adventures Gone Awry

So we're out of creamer and two days from payday. Oh, what bad, bad timing. I thought I'd improvise. "Hey!" I thought, "The Hillbilly Housewife uses vanilla pudding mix in her instant coffee mixes. I'll bet that would be good!" So I drizzled a little pudding mix into my cup, stirred, checked the spoon, stirred again, and it looked good. *sip* Mmm, well, not stellar. But not bad. Eh. It'll do.

Yeah, til I drink it down to where the bottom begins to show when I tip the cup for a drink. And there's a longish blob of... what is that? chewing gum? phlegm? fix-a-dent? No, wait, nobody in the house wears dentures. Dear heaven, what IS that?

Yep, undissolved, yet congealed, vanilla pudding, stuck in the bottom and coated in a layer of black coffee.

Oh. I think I'll just take it sweet and dark this week. Blech.

Dy

Let's Play Ball???

OK, this is the year. We're doing it. *breathe in*

The problem is - I have no idea what we're doing. *breathe out*

John wants to play baseball. OK. Sounds simple enough. You may remember we played heck trying to find a fall ball league last year. Turns out, there aren't any. Oh. OK. Well, we'll try again in the spring.

Yeah. Spring's a'comin!

I will call the Parks & Rec offices for our near communities on Tuesday. Haven't been able to find anything about them online.

I did find the Dixie Youth League. Spent three hours looking for information, and so far, not finding what I need, other than that there's a meeting on Feb. 3rd. (Since when is that "spring"? ACK! I thought I had more time! *breatheinbreatheoutbreatheinbreatheout)

How do they pick the teams?
Does everyone who wants to play get to play?
What do you have to have for tryouts?
What about homeschooled kids?
How does this all work?
What's the competition level?
Where do you start when you're, you know, just starting?
What can we do to help?
What am I doing, again?
Why am I doing it? Oh. Yes. That smile. That's right.

OK, I've answered one question. That's enough to keep me going. If you've done the baseball route before, would you mind chiming in with information? I'll be making phone calls this week, but would love a friendly voice to walk me through this.

Zorak and I are way out of our comfort zone at the moment. It's a twitchy, awkward place to be, and we're trying to maintain our cool-and-on-the-job personas. Not working so well.

And me, with the sports, not so much. I was on the track team in high school only because my ride didn't come until after track practice and they wouldn't let me sit and read. And even then, I went for field events just so I didn't have to run. This drive to engage in competitive sports is right up there in "things I don't get", with choosing a career in nostril hair tweezing, or making clothing from lint. It's foreign to me.

But have you seen that smile? Ah. I've got to figure this out.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Homeschool Review

I think a weekly review is in order. Or, in this case, a bi-weekly review. Because you just never know when one of those little suckers might get away from you. (I'm beginning to believe that homeschoolers are time-challenged. It's not just time, as in "be there at eight in the morning" *gag, cough, gasp*, but rather the general ebb and flow of the Monday-Friday workweek, that we don't grasp. Or that could be just us. I'm okay with that.)

Here's the general scoop on life at the academy...

Latin:
Latin For Children, Primer A. Coming along swimmingly. The boys still enjoy it, and I enjoy teaching with it. We ventured off into deeper work for James this past week, doing more independent translation and writing work, while taking a different turn with John, doing more in-depth vocabulary study. This little twist to the learning curve is what makes homeschooling work so well for us. The children get what they need, without sacrificing any one child to the angry volcano of educational oversight. We'll finish Unit II this coming week, and will begin Unit III before the end of the month.

Math:
MUS, Delta: division is easy when you know your multiplication facts and the Reasons Why. Alpha: the work John put into Primer is paying off in Alpha. I'm glad we did Primer, and still recommend it highly. The gentle introduction, ease of memorization, and the taste of success (particularly for this little guy) is worth every penny spent on Primer.
As we'd planned, we're just letting them take the ball and run with it on math this term. They're both enjoying the work they do (aside from the Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Morning last week), and they still get enough bizarre applications and theory from our normal day-to-day discussion that I just can't see slowing them down or adding anything else to the pot. This is good brew.

History:
Famous Men of Rome: My plan was to read/study one famous man per week. Well, there's not much else available to us for supplementation here in the boonies. So, we've broadened our studies a bit, and read two chapters each week. I add in a little mapwork, some fictional reading, maybe dabble in a little Viking lore. Then I re-read the story of The Horatii and The Curatii, over again, each week. Because when you're six, that is just a horribly cool story.

I would like to add in more of the activities from SOTW, but at this point, I'm ready to forge ahead into the Middle Ages. It took us so long to get to Rome. Oy. Still, we're on track, and enjoying it, and at the end of this term, they'll have some good pegs about the Roman civilization on which to hang next term's studies. It's good. I'm just being impatient. And I need a live-in crafter. Desperately. These children need a few good projects. (I don't need ideas - there are plenty out there. What I need is the motivation!)

Our reading schedule has been fairly laid back, although the two older boys are getting in half an hour of assigned reading each day, as well as half an hour to an hour of free reading time during the day (on top of our normal reading together time, bedtime reading, and the random books that simply must be read whenever).

They're working their way through the Copybooks from Memoria Press. We aren't using them as prescribed, but we are using them as I'd planned, and as such, we're getting just what we need. (Copybook gives the eldest child a chance to write something I didn't outline for him, or expect him to narrate on his own. Just good, quality handwriting practice. Isn't that handy? And for the next child, it's just good practice in general: paying attention, developing good form, finishing a project with minimal fuss. Good stuff.)

Science - isn't every day a science day? No? Oh. Well, we're enjoying the tidbit pages from the list of things to do outside in the winter, and the tangents we go off on from those, alone, are great fun. We're slowly slogging our way through Exploring Creation Through Astronomy. I love the reading part. It's the activities that are just killing me right now. January, it seems, is NOT the time to ask me to do anything other than eat and read.

Bible - Pioneer Club has begun again, so we have memory work and projects for that. Our daily devotionals come from the Keys 4 Kids series, which I found at An Old-Fashioned Education. We do them over breakfast, and they're quite good. If I run into one that I don't think is applicable, or appropriate for my crowd, it's nice to be able to go back through the archives and pick a different day.

And that's the bulk of our lessons, there. We do music, although not officially. We do it by making music and sharing music. By listening to more music and partaking in the process itself. I'm trying not to focus on this, for fear I will scare myself out of it, but for now, I think that creating a lifestyle that includes music will do wonders for the boys. For all of us, really. I'll blog more later about the effects I've seen just since we've begun implementing this approach. It's been good. And by no means am I advocating NO formal music lessons, but for us, that was a cart-before-the-horse scenario. We needed to get the horse first.

How's your school term going?

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Wintering in the South

There are benefits to winter in the South. There are. Really. Sometimes they're a little harder for those of us who dream of spending October through March snowed in, hiding from polar bears, to see. But they are there.
For one, you can play outside without fear of frostbite. Or polar bears. Always handy. Tree climbing in winter is much easier if your hands aren't too cold to gauge whether you've got a good hold on the tree.
For another, the mild winters make up for August... and the first two weeks of September. Just look at that baby - no glistening! Just pure, happy Southern Winter Skin. It is beautiful! (Someday, when she has hair, she'll appreciate the added moisture in the winter air, as well.)


Summer in the South is just as challenging to weather as summer in the Southwest. You must get up and out before the sun rises to do any gardening or outdoor labor. Then, with the fear vampires feel, you scuttle back indoors as the sun rises, plant yourself under a ceiling fan, and spend your day trying not to sweat. But then comes fall, and it's back out-of-doors with you, living among the undead no longer! It's beautiful. By winter, the ticks have gone away. (Perhaps they winter over in the tropics? I don't know where they are, but they aren't here, waiting in ambush.)

And when your friends tell you they're serving marshmallows for dessert, it makes sense. Nothing like a little winter marshmallow roast in the South! You can feel your toes. You don't have to wear gloves. And you don't have to wait until ten for it to get dark and make the whole adventure feel more like, well, an adventure!

Finally, although winter in the South doesn't always call for hot chocolate, tea is always in season. So you can use your favorite coffee carafe for tea!


Yes, there's a lot to love about living in the South.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Birthdays and Friends

I don't know what it is, but I can't blog with someone else in the room. What's up with that? Anybody else ever develop strange, blog-related behaviors?

So, anyway, it's been a busy week, here. The boys' lessons are coming along nicely. We've read a lot more this week. Not necessarily anything big, but little snippets here and there. The boys are more engaged in discussing what we've read, expounding on it, chewing on it. I play it cool on the outside, but internally I grin like a maniac, because I know where these habits lead, and it's a beautiful place. We dragged the board book basket into the living room and spent several afternoons taking turns reading to Smidge and EmBaby. (Can't do it for both at the same time. No, no. That devolves into a death match between a wolverine and rabid mongoose. Bad, bad idea.) John loves being able to read to the little ones. I love that he's not intimidated by the size of books or the size of font any longer. (I love having enough backup that everybody gets a little downtime, too!)

John and James had a birthday party to attend today. We had a heck of a time trying to figure out what to get for the birthday boy! Finally settled on a set of snap circuits, which the boys absolutely love, and wouldn't ya know it, Toys-R-Us doesn't carry them. At least not locally (the website showed them as an in-stock item, but I guess that meant on the web only). Well, pooh. I don't know what the guys ended up buying, but we were off and running again, arriving a mere five minutes late for the party. (We are SO getting there! With our current rate of improvement on arrival times, we will arrive on time for the birth of our first, possibly second, grandchild.)

Since we're not getting the winter storms everyone else is getting, we figured it'd be better to play in the 70' afternoon sunshine than lament the lack of snow in January, and that was great. Wonderful Friends invited us to stay for supper, and treated us to grilled salmon, sauteed veggies, and a great raspberry chipotle sauce they'd picked up at Costco. (Costco carries the best stuff sometimes!) We stayed far too late, and everyone was ready to collapse upon arriving home. Times like this, I do sort of wish we lived closer to town. Or kept a condo in town. Something other than arriving home so late when we've gone visiting. However, it was nice to get out.

Tomorrow I've got to get stuff done around the house. I can't tell if we're making headway or not. My fingers are crossed that the rain forecast will hold off and give me at least til lunch with the kids outside. (I want to use the pages linked the other day to try to identify a few cool things growing on the property.) Then it wouldn't kill us to get rained in, for we have a lot still to accomplish. At this point, I am giving serious consideration to moving everybody into tents in the upper meadow for a month or so come spring just so we can finish the house w/o actually living in it. (But, you know, without giving up such luxuries as the plumbing, and the stove.) Wonder if Zorak would go for that?

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Oops, little time warp, there

I started to write up all the book lists I've collected and seem to hoard with a stunningly dragon-like enthusiasm, so we'd have them in one place (as opposed to my current system, which, it would seem, isn't working out so well). That was around one this afternoon... aaaaand, now it's after eleven.

Did you know there's a lot of neat stuff I've got bookmarked that I never, ever go look at? What do I bookmark it for? And why don't I *use* the bookmarks? We should have an official "List Your Bookmarks Day" sometime next week. I'll bet there are some real gems hidden away that we've clicked on, saved for later, and promptly forgot about.

In the meantime, somebody at the WTM boards posted a link today for "68 Nature-Oriented Things To Do During Winter". What fun! I'm printing this out tonight, and go through it this weekend. I'll bet there's a delightful few ideas the boys will love.

I'll also get around to putting a good list together sometime this weekend. But in the meantime, if you're looking for some new reading ideas, check out the Baldwin Project's Children's Literature Project. (It's less overwhelming than trying to find something in the entire Baldwin Project, and you have the option to print your selection, or purchase a it through Yesterday's Classics.) Good stuff. James is reading Ways of Wood Folk right now, and we're enjoying it so much. I would love, love, love to buy these books, but for now, I'm putting the printer to good use.

Also, Mere mentioned World Wide School. I blew several hours there today. Really neat stuff, and I love the way it's organized. (And that was another site that turned out to be in my favorites already, but it's been so long since I looked in there that I didn't even recognize the url!) And Mere, it's funny you should mention Long. He also wrote the one we've been reading this week! We're enjoying it tremendously, and I can't wait to read more!

Funny that so many of us are in between read alouds right now. It's a like a collective pause in the universal reading rhythm.

Well, I hung in there quite well until Smidge's last request for a little Squirrel Nutkin. That did me in. Hillary thinks there is some kind of sedative in Potter's works. I'm inclined to agree. I'll bet if you dug through Old English spell books, you'd find the sleeping spells were all written down as children's bedtime stories. Yep, pretty sure of it.

And so, good night.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Books and Sleep

I think Santa needs to bring one of us a computer this coming Christmas. Zorak doesn't get much computer time, really, so when he does beat me to it, erm, hop on, I can't begrudge him that. But I can't stay up long enough to get on after him, either. Last night I conked out on the futon. No sense in trying to reply to email and blog through the haze of sleep, so when he woke me up, I just stumbled to bed and figured I could get caught up this morning. Now Yahoo is having problems. *sigh* So if I owe you an email, I apologize. I can't get in right now.

It's 8:30, and the kids are still asleep. Wednesday nights are hard on them. We don't get home from church until nine, and even though I've fed them before we left, once we got there, and had a snack in the car, they're still hungry when we get home. You've seen how thin they are. That's pure metabolism at work, there. Metabolism with a skin and hair covering. So Zorak has supper (second supper? tensies?) ready when we pull in and it's after ten by the time they get tucked into bed. The funny thing is that even when they can't keep their eyes open, they're shocked if we try to skip bedtime reading. "Wha--? We can't have a story? We can't have our reading minutes? What?!? WHYYYYYYYYY???" Zorak and I stand there quietly, praying they'll just. go. to. sleep. But no, they need their books. This would be my genetic contribution to the next generation: willingness to forego sleep, nutrition, and sunlight in order to be able to read a good book. Not high on the Survival Qualities Scale, but thankfully Zorak had enough input on that end, so I think they'll be okay.

I'm trying to find a good read aloud right now. John wants me to start over with The Chronicles of Narnia. Smidge wants me to read Farmer Boy again. James doesn't care what I read, as long as I'll quit losing his bookmark in whatever he's reading. I've got to be honest, I'm not up for starting either of the ones mentioned over again just yet. I'd like to leave at least a year between Narnia readings, so the children can hear them with a fresh perspective each time. Back-to-back seems a little much. And I have no idea why Smidge fell in love with Farmer Boy, but he did. He really loves that book. He even took it from the boys' room and put it on his bookshelf. I'm slogging my way through The Hobbit with them again, to stall for time, but I think this weekend I'm going to peruse my favorite lists and see if I can find something. Plus, the latest Dover catalog came in. There's always something good in there!

And on that note, I'm going to see if I can slip in some of my study time before they wake up (famished, no doubt) and start the day.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

The Substitute

Ah, I'd forgotten just how unruly children can be for the substitute teacher. Even when it's Dad. He so doesn't get paid enough for this subbing gig, but thankfully, he does it for the love of the job. And the bene's.

So, Zorak subbed for me today while I went to the dentist (yes, again), then he ran interference and let me heal during the afternoon. He cooked a scrumptious baked chicken supper with steamed yellow squash. Smidge made mashed potatoes - and he was so proud of them that he ate three servings! Of course, John barely touched them. I don't know if the tater ban on his part was related to concerns over Smidge's hygienic levels in the kitchen, or if he just wasn't up for potatoes. He did praise Smidge's efforts, though, and so, I really don't mind. Be kind. Be helpful. You're good-to-go.

We had a really nice day, all things considered. John got over whatever demonic possession had caused him to spend three hours this morning swearing he couldn't write numerals 1-100 (WTH??? Thankfully, Zorak did not buy that load, not even for a buck.) James let us help him with his latest jigsaw puzzle. Baby Girl practiced standing without holding on to things. And has perfected landing without hurting herself. Smidge worked on attaining his goals. (Today's goal: to perch atop my head while I laid on the couch and whimpered.)

And suddenly, it's eleven o'clock. Wow. That was fast.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

A Look at our... well, our bread

I'd hoped to do a day-in-pictures, but we hit the ground running. And it's hard to find the camera when you're runing.

We've had a lovely morning. We enjoyed our Bible studies and Latin before breakfast, which was nice (and thus, buys me and the boys a little break just before lunch!) We did a lot of work on the Latin today, and they're doing so well. James is thrilled to be translating "real sentences" (simple subject-verb sentences), but he gets it and is flying through. John gets the concept, but hasn't really put as much into memorizing his vocabulary work as he ought. Well, no beating ourselves with the Oughts, we'll just remedy that, starting now.

Then it was on to breakfast, which this morning was a bit light on the protein (and we'll pay for it this afternoon, if I don't fix the deficiency at lunch!) But, oh, was it good. I took horrible liberties last night with KathyJo's quinoa bread recipe, and it survived surprisingly well. So this morning, I mangled it a bit further to make a breakfast bread, and it turned out *spectacularly*, if I do say so myself. (But I didn't have to - the boys and EmBaby said it after the first taste!)

The loaf itself does form up nicely, and it looks like any regular banana bread you might be given by a loved one, or a zucchini bread in August, by someone who secretely loathes you. I suspect the difference in the texture is the teff flour. I used it in both batches, and both batches came out with a wonderful texture and good heft. (Yes, that is the ever-so-faint outline of a hand print on the top. I have helpers. It's like living with enthusiastic gnomes.)



It was difficult to cut. Not because of the bread, but because I didn't want to see what was inside. (Sometimes the scars are on the inside, you know.) But we cut it...



Look at that - no goop!

And the best part? It looks like that all the way to the middle! This is a completely goop-free loaf of bread.



Another first for my normal sized loaves. (9x5 pan!) WAHOO! I've never had success like this outside of BRM GF Bread Mix. Ever. (If I were a crier, this would be where I cried. As it stands, I did get a little sniffly.)

So, I washed my hands and we ate up! DELICIOUS! The boys all ate four slices a piece. EmBaby ate two full slices. Served slathered with butter, sides of fresh fruit, cheese (next time, we'll serve cheese), and glasses of cold milk, it's a delightful breakfast.

And then, it was back to the grindstone!



Here's the recipe, in case anyone needs a good gluten-free breakfast loaf. (It would toast up nicely, as well!)

LIQUIDS:
1 c. fruit yogurt (any flavor - we used blueberry)
1/2 c. water
1 Tbsp. mayo
2 Tbsp. honey
2 eggs (room temp!)

DRY:
2 1/2 Tbsp. brown sugar
scant 1/4 c. sugar (optional - play with it to taste)
1 tsp. xanthan gum
1 Tbsp. powdered milk
1 tsp. yeast (for flavor)
1/2 tsp. salt
2 tsp. baking powder
1/2 c. teff flour
2 c. bean flour blend

Pre-heat oven to 375'

Use mixer to beat together liquid ingredients in large bowl. Beat 'em til they're creamy and frothy. In another bowl, whisk together dry ingredients. Add combined dry ingredients to liquids, a little at a time, incorporating well as you go. Beat thoroughly.

Pour into a greased loaf pan, use the back of a spatula to smooth the top. Bake for 10 min. Cover with foil, and bake for another 55-60 min.

(Loaf is done when bottom sounds hollow when tapped. If it's not done, just throw it back in for another 15 or so.)

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

All Smiles

It's like they *know*.

Just when I am at my wit's end, ready to go SuperCynical on everyone within a thirty-mile radius, something wonderful happens to snap me out of it. The other night, as I sat, twitching and folding laundry on the living room floor, wondering if the children would survive if I took just one. small. nap. I heard a little scritch-scritch and saw movement out of the corner of my eye.

Two thoughts ran simultaneously through my head, jockeying for position. They were, "If that's a two-foot tall mouse, I'm out of here!" and "One of them is escaping!" (Being, presumably, the children, not the mice.) Well, either of those thoughts will fling the hope of a nap from any mother's brain, so I whipped around, only to find...



EmBaby's not such a baby anymore. And pediatric recommendations be darned, if we won't BUY her a walker, she'll improvise! We have vast stretches of empty space that don't lend themselves to cruising along with the aid of furniture, but it seems a stepstool works rather well on the laminate floor. She loves this thing, and it's stable enough that she can't push it over if it does get stuck on something.

And really, with smiles like these to greet me, I can forget about whatever it was the boys got into while I cleaned the bathroom...



Even wearing the evidence, he's so cute! How can I be mad? (Of course, ask me again when I try to make something and find they've eaten a key ingredient, right?)

This is why it's the good stuff. Someday, those two smiling faces will be the faces of adults. Hopefully, they will still smile all the way to their eyebrows like that, and hopefully, their lives will be filled with people who love those smiles just as much as (well, ok, realistically, "almost as much as") I do.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Blogging Around

Amy blogged a "Year of Blogging" the other day, posting the first line from the first entry of each month of the year. I thought that was fun, so figured I'd do it here. But first, a few things -

KathyJo has mastered the wheat-free loaf. Holy Cow, it's exquisite. And if she doesn't cough up a recipe soon, I may have to offer to birth her next child for her in exchange. Because I think even Zorak might eat that one!

Also, we watched Talladega Nights last night, and I've got to ask if anybody else who has seen the movie noticed a striking resemblance between Carley, and another Hooters Girl, erm, blogger we know and love (even if she doesn't blog regularly)...



And no, it's not a personality thing at all - just the physical appearance. Our M. is actually one of the sweetest, funniest ladies I've ever had the honor of knowing. We can't hate her because she's beautiful. (But seriously, she does look like Carley Bobby. It's eerie.) ;-)

OK, and now, A Year of Blogging, 2006:
Jan:
We're moving too quickly to stop and reflect.

Feb:
There's such a fine, fine line between a groove and a rut, isn't there?

Mar:
I think it's gone.

Apr:
There's no sensation quite like sauntering up to a service counter and saying, "We are doing this mongo project that's way over our heads, and in the process we've taken something apart that we aren't certain how to put back together."

May:
Laney and I have talked about it.

June:
Not actually fasting from the internet.

July:
Hello, hello!

Aug:
Well, first things first, we managed to get to the ENT's office on time, which is, in and of itself, a miracle.

Sept:
"Look, Mom," James calls to me from beside Emily, who was perched on a pillow, "A plate of laughter with a side of smiles!"

Oct:
OK, I am never doing that again.

Nov:
I had no idea trick-or-treating began around four!

Dec:
Andrew Lang's Fairy Tales - in their favorite colors!

I know, technically, December's is a sentence fragment. I was going to fudge that one, but the next three are also fragments. It seems 2006 was an interesting year. However it came out in words, it was good. Definitely good.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

The Makings of A Stellar Day

"Mom, do you hear that?" We listen for a second, and hear music coming from the nursery. EmBaby has turned on her seahorse light and is singing along with it.

"Can I read a little more?" The child who, until just before Christmas, had no desire to read. Ever. Not if he could help it.

"My wart's dead!" OK, that one's just good stuff. Two kids have been slathered in castor oil, and now both are wart-free. (Though John's looks like there's another wave of the stuff coming up to die. Still, this is good news.)

"Can I teach it to you now?" *goofy grin* I. Love. That.

"Mmmm, this bread is good." Suckup. But I'll take it.

"What can we do to help you, Mom?" Bury me now. I can die happy.

"You want song? Me make soooong!" Smidge, who has graduated from Elfish and is now in his broken-english phase. So happy. And a great song, too!

Granted, today's not over, but it's a start. A beautiful, much-appreciated start. (I told ya yesterday was a preparation day!)

What makes a stellar day for you?

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

What A Day

Two recipe disasters in a row! I'm on a roll.

Thought it'd be nice to have fresh potato bread to go with supper tonight, so I whipped up a full-size batch of the stuff, then split the liquid in half and made one loaf w/ wheat flour and one loaf wf. Really, it looks beautiful. It has that delightful potato bread texture, and it smells delicious. Unfortunately, my bright idea to leave the skins on, well, wasn't quite so bright. Just for future reference, the skins don't bake up so nicely in bread. They don't affect the taste adversely, but they produce these awful, shiny dark spots in the bread. It's not a healthy sheen, at all, and it took me a bit to figure out what those nasty spots were. *shudder* Oh, well, perhaps they'll toast up okay. A little peanut butter and honey can cover a multitude of baking sins.

Most of us still feel like hammered dog poop, so we aren't setting the world on fire at the moment. The house gets tidied, the linens get washed, and that fairly wears me out. In spite of that, though, we're managing to do school pretty well. We're hitting about 95% each day, and are rotating the 5% we don't manage to get. So far, we're ahead of my beloved schedule by a full two days, though, even factoring in the stray 5%.

Zorak called this morning to ask if I'd been out to the road yet. (I hadn't.) He informed me we need a new mailbox. *sigh* I had forgotten about the joys of drunk teenagers on a dull winter evening, particularly out in the boonies. I guess there's just not much to do but vandalize mailboxes while you're waiting for your buddy with the ID to get more beer. Well, I hope they enjoy the concrete reinforced one we'll be putting up. There were Christmas cards strewn on the roadside, crumpled, wet, and dirty. That torqued me off pretty badly. Not to mention, mailboxes have gone up in price quite a bit! Oy!

Tomorrow we've got to get to the library. We won't be heading in to share the crud, but we do need to slip some books into the box and then run before they catch us. It's been a while since we've all been healthy enough to leave, and Zorak doesn't go into the town with the library, so the books are very, very delinquent. The library will be glad to have their books back, and I will be glad to be back on non-compounding terms with my late fees.

And really, that's about all I've got the stamina to put together. Some days are stellar, and some days... well, the prepare you to fully enjoy the stellar days. Today was a prep day. But that's okay, maybe tomorrow will be stellar!

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Recipe No-Go

Well, I had to try. The Hillbilly Housewife has a recipe for egg and cheese pudding. I thought that sounded like a wonderful, hearty, warm lunch!

Evidently, I thought wrong.

Smidge did try one honest bite, but then pronounced, "No me like dis! No good." (Ah, well, break it to me gently, there, kiddo.)

James said the flavor is, "OKAY, but, mentally, it's the texture of bread pudding, which just doesn't go with these flavors. It's not you. It's not... bad, really. It's just me, mentally, I can't do it." (Oh, he is SO my kid.)

John ate all of it without complaining, but quietly disappeared when I offered him seconds. (Of course, when you grab someone by the shoulders and act like someone from a Dickens novel, "YOU liked it, though, didn't you? YOU thought it was good? Would you like MORE?" Yeah, that'll make even the most stalwart among us bolt for the nearest exit.)

Alright, mark this one off the list for inclusions. FWIW, I do agree about the texture and consistency. I'm an American, and as such, my puddings should be sweet. I get nauseaus just reading about the puddings in the Master & Commander books. The flavor was great, and as a quiche, or just a basic caserole (perhaps with pasta instead of bread?) it'd probably be good. But as it stands, it should have tasted like cinnamon and nutmeg, or maybe apples. I kept that thought to myself, though, so as not to skew their views of it.

On the plus side, Zorak's lunch for tomorrow is ready to go! (Maybe he'll like it? Don't worry, I'll pack extra other items, just in case.)

Kiss those babies!

First Day Back to School

No pictures. Mid-year pictures don't count. (Heck, I haven't even managed to mail out the Christmas pictures yet - school photos? Probably not 'til college, folks.)

However, it was a pretty good day. The boys were surprisingly easy to guide and teach. Zorak spent his day of mourning off hunting for deer, so the kids and I dove into our studies. By the time he returned home for lunch, we were done with most of the stuff and taking a well-enjoyed game break.

School Day Highlights:

James - loving Delta. Yay. Thrilled to have "designated free reading time" included in the homeschool schedule. (He loves to read - reads in the morning, before he gets up, and reads at bedtime, as well. But he just doesn't quite understand that if you want to go read a book during the day, go read a book. If I'm reading a book, he'll come sit with me and read one of his own, and if I suggest it, he's all over it. But for some reason, he needed a slot set aside just for "free reading". Somehow, seeing "30 minutes free reading" on his schedule of things to do was like getting a "Pass Go, Collect $200" card. Huge highlight of the day.)

John - really able to read his Latin book independently now, and he is so thrilled. So he read the Latin lessons today. So proud! Also, I gave him a Reader to work through, along with his very own checklist to record his progress. This step meant a lot to him (more than I'd figured when I put it together), and he cannot wait to fill in the "I read all ten stories myself!" certificate. This is such good stuff.

James lost another tooth today. John is still in awe of the process, convinced he'll never lose a tooth of his own. He didn't ask for this one, though, so that's good.

Miss Emily awoke this morning with a raging case of pink eye. So, back to Mom's pharmacy. Three treatments with that stuff and she looked a WHOLE lot better, although she's still fairly miserable. Even with the goop, she spent most of her day standing and dancing. She's begun cruising comfortably the past week, and will walk all over the place if you give her a finger to hold on to. It won't be long before she's walking all over the place (and bruised just as thoroughly).

Smidge, so far, has avoided the strep, the pink eye, and the ick. I don't know how much longer his luck will hold, but hopefully Long Enough.

And on that note, I'm not going to push my luck any more than I already have. So, I am off. A good night's rest, and an early start in the morning, and we'll keep moving in this general direction.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

1st Quarter of '07, 3rd Quarter of 06-07...

Whatever you'd call it. Let's just go with January, '07. There, that sounds right. I haven't quite figured out where our school years end and pick back up again. We don't break the boys' studies into yearly chunks for progression. They work until they're done, then we move on to the next book.

This method works great on paper, but it does make things a bit wonky with scheduling (which I do in abundance, and then promptly set aside once our normal routine emerges, rendering all the scheduling irrelevent). I don't do the scheduling for them, though. I do it for me. For several reasons: even if I do ditch it, the planning gives me a general idea which direction we need to be heading; it helps clarify which books are gathering dust and which need to be beefed up a bit; I enjoy it. It's fun. Even more fun now that we've found the electric pencil sharpener. Mmmm. I do love a freshly sharpened pencil and a blank sheet of paper. WOOHOO!

For daily scheduling, I use the auto-fill daily homework sheet from Chart Jungle. Ten minutes in the evening before bed gives me a leg up on the next day's plan. Think of it this way, if you need to be somewhere in the morning, and you *know* your car battery is going to be dead in the morning, wouldn't you plug in the charger before you went to bed? (Assuming, of course, that you all have chargers, and not just jumper cables, like normal people, right?) So. My battery isn't good with quick starts. We like the daily forms.

The rest of my planning, I do with Donna Young's Quarterly Planners. Just a general outline, in 9 week increments. As I pointed out to the boys, it's paper, not stone. But those wonderful grids make me happy! The boys don't ever have to see them - the pages go into a binder.

A happy, gridded, filled-in, organized binder of glee.

My glee is bound. My pages are printed. My schedule is in place.

The kids are asleep. The menu is written up.

And... we just found out Zorak's off work tomorrow. :-D (The humor being that we usually take off school when Daddy's home. It's easier on everyone. All that work, when I could have gone to bed early!)

G'nite!
Kiss those babies!
~Dy

New Year, 2007

We did not need strep. Gotta call the doc in the morning and swear on a stack of prescription pads that we are not living in a festering cesspool. Honest. And it's John, too, poor, goopy-eyed, sinus-laden John. It just hasn't been this kid's winter. However, he's handling it quite well...

He's been chillin' on the couch with hot tea, his fuzzy robe, pirate slippers, and a good movie. Other than the fever, painful throat, and chills, not a bad way to pass the evening, really.

It's been a low-key week here. Lots of time spent together, learning new skills...
(Leaning 101 - evidently, it helps.)


(Motor Skills - Love the Tongue Of Concentration, there.)


(Basic Mechanics - better Thomas than my phone!)


The boys got a kick out of telling Smidge at supper that he'd better eat up because Zorak and I weren't going to feed them again until next year. He didn't quite get it, but they cracked each other up. (Sometimes it's good to have someone who always "gets" your sense of humor.) We'd thought about letting them stay up, but they were more than ready for bed by eight, so we tucked them in with the promise of "celebratory ice cream" tomorrow, and fireworks once the rain backs off a bit.

And on that note,

May 2007 bring you food to nourish your body...


Love to nourish your heart...


And the joy of anticipation with each new adventure!


Happy New Year!
Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Oh, the Humidity!

97% right now. Oy.

I still haven't adjusted to the humidity level here. In New Mexico, if the humidity hits 20%, you wouldn't even think of painting. It'd never dry properly! Here, if we got down to 20% humidity, I'd let the kids starve for 24 hours straight while I painted every flat surface we have. Maybe even trim. I might even paint things that don't need painting, just in case.

So, it's been a quiet weekend here. We're missing church again because the kids haven't quite shaken the snot monster yet. They aren't miserable, but I am every time I hear *that sound* and have to shout, "DON'T SUCK IT IN!" And the little ones? They've burned a month's worth of calories going rounds in the Ultimate Toddler Fighting Championship each time we need to wipe their wee noses or, God forbid, use the snot sucker. That alone is worth not subjecting fellow congregants to. And so, we are cloistered safely at home with a full array of tissue choices and plenty of water. It's good.

And today is the last day of 2006. Man, I remember when I thought 1999 would *never* get here. And now... well, obviously it made it. And thar it went! No desire to get reflective. It's been a good year with plenty of reflection, the occasional bout of wallowing, and a lot of plans brought to fruition. I have no idea what we're doing, but it seems to be working, and honestly, I'm afraid I'll screw it up if I try to pinpoint just what it is. We're going to head into 2007 with the general philosophy,

Don't mess with what works, even if you're not sure why it's working.

Just smile and nod, folks. Smile. And. Nod.

And kiss those babies!
~Dy

Renovation Tidbits

So, it's official. We have begun our One Room Per Weekend plan, in which we finish off the Niggling Bits (the ones that give me hives when I think about not having finished them ten years from now). I guess you could also call it our Mental Health Insurance plan.

This weekend is "The School Room". (If you remember the "before" pictures, it was the one with "Security by Georgia Pacific" in the captions.) Aside from baseboard, which will have to wait for another payday, the School Room will be c-o-m-p-l-e-t-e-l-y done by Sunday night. Zorak put up the trim around the door today. I figured out what to do with the window treatment for that door. The window and door trim gets painted tomorrow, curtains hung, shelving installed. We'll bring up the old kitchen table to use as a puzzle table/private workspace, and I'll do a little last minute tidying and sorting of the paperwork. Yay.

I'd still like to put some quotes on the walls, but am not sure what I'd like to use. There are so many good ones. I don't want anything serious, or somber. I really loved one that was shared on the boards this week:

Life is tough. It's tougher if you're stupid.

What a great quote. Zorak thinks that may be a John Wayne quote. Anybody know?

Oh, I'm glad there are others who love pocket doors! We do, too! We put them in the bathrooms, and WOW - nobody gets injured in the constant chaos that is a six-person-one-bath home! The master bath is so small, that the pocket door really saves a significant portion of the space in there, as well. (It'll be nice when we get that one finished.) We also put one in the laundry closet in the hallway - no bruised and battered foreheads for little guys bolting down the hall on laundry day! Yippee! We'd have put them in everywhere, if there'd been enough wall space to do so. And we did contemplate putting one there, at the end of the hall, even. When we bought the place, the hall had doors (standard, not pocket) closing off the sleeping quarters from both the living room and the foyer, but the house was so closed-in and creepy that we threw everything wide open. Now it feels a leetle nekky, so we've re-thought the door at the end of the hall. :-)

And yep, we're vaulting the ceiling in the living and dining areas. (Melora, I may take your suggestion and dub that phase the "Very Interesting Project" - that's code for "Really Bad Idea", isn't it?) The house has 8' ceilings. They feel somewhat cave-like and constricting after living in homes and apartments with 9' ceilings. It's stunning what a difference a foot makes. Because of the actual structure, we can't reasonably raise the entire roof, and it'd be cost prohibitive to add a second floor at this point (thus, raising the ceiling in the process!) So, with a little math, a little trusswork, and a lit-tle. more. patience, we can give the living space a better feel, make a clearer delineation between the living and kitchen spaces, and create some awesome architectural interest to the Basic Box. Plus, when we add the den, it'll tie the spaces together with a smoother transition, so the den won't look like an add-on.

But I try not to think about those things. They make me whiney and despondent. For now, I will think of The School Room - and how there are no more things to be done there this year. Or there will not be after this weekend. (Baseboard doesn't count, because of the bullnosed beading - it's all one continuous room, as far as the baseboard is concerned. Really. Just, go with me on that.)

It's very possible that we may finish this house soon enough that Smidge retains no permanent recollections of The Way It Was!

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Post-Holiday Daze

I awoke this morning at some awful hour to the sound of Zorak's phone playing the Radetzsky March. That sounds like something out of a horror film when it wakes you from a dead sleep. I stumbled into the living room, prepared to do battle with an evil clown and its demonic calliope, only to find my beloved preparing to head out to go hunting. Really, a good old alarm wouldn't serve the same purpose? So now, he's out the door, and I'm sitting here, a little dazed, wondering if I should just go back to bed, or do something productive.

We're all a bit dazed, actually, in spite of the fact that we've cut our turkey intake with a good deal of ham. We're full to the top of good things, new things, and things in general. We're floating in an eddy created by the swirling of necessities and luxuries coming together. (Yes, I know, everyone should be so fortunate. That we acknowledge our blessings, though, doesn't make us any better at handling them.) I don't know about the others, but I'm ready to take the tree and all the trimmings down NOW. I'm ready to get back to the business of schooling and building and preparing for Spring (which will come far too soon for me to be ready for it!) I'm done. I've had my fill. And next year, I think we're going to put non-blinking lights on the tree.

I also think that when we vault the living room ceiling, we're going to add a pocket door at the beginning of the hallway. There's a lot of cleaning I could be doing while everyone sleeps, but the light and noise will drift straight down the hall and before I could make any actual progress, all the little ones will be awake. Yes, a door would be handy.

And, as if on cue, John's up. Why is he up? He's never up this early. Well, he looks happy, and says he's hungry. Time for the day to begin!

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Sometimes You Just Can't...

...buy locally.

We try. We really do. But sometimes it's just. not. in the cards.

Seven years ago, Zorak ventured into a Christian bookstore to buy me a nice Bible for Christmas. He explained to the saleslady that he's not a believer, but his wife is, and she's very into study, theology, doctrine and history, and he'd like to find something nice. She knew "just the thing", and he came home with a woman's recovery bible! (Because, obviously, any woman who'd marry a non-believer must have been into drugs and prostitution? What in the world???)

Fast-forward to this year. Zorak would like to give me a copy of the Vulgate. He's heard me mention this, and knows it's one of my goals to master Latin to the point that I can enjoy reading the Scriptures in Latin. So, off he goes to the local Christian bookstore, where the following conversation with Bookstore Lady (BL) ensues:

Z: Hi, do you have any Latin Bibles?

BL: Any what?

Z: Latin Bibles.

BL: LATIN Bibles?

Z: Yes.

BL: LATIN?

Z: Yes. Do you carry Latin Bibles?

BL: *blank stare*

Z: You know, the language? Latin?

BL: OH, LATIN. Um... no.

*insert general awkward pause*

BL: I don't think they've ever translated it into Latin.

He left. He bit his tongue and left. And then he couldn't share this story with me until Christmas. But I don't have to wait to share it. Even though my book hasn't arrived yet. Hmpf.

Although, honestly, I am nowhere near competent enough to read it yet. This was on my "one of these days" lists. Technically, I'd asked for a Kitchen Aid Mixer, because making all this bread with a wooden spoon is KILLING my arm, but he wanted to get me something just-for-fun. So, in keeping an honest girl honest, I broke out my Latin (which has been woefully ignored this month) and got back to writing my declensions. He sat down to watch me for a couple of minutes and then suddenly, this panic-stricken look came over this face.

"Oh, this isn't like if you said you wanted to lose weight this year, and then I went and bought you a treadmill, is it?"

*giggle* No, honey. It's not. But even if you had, I'd love you for it. I may not use it, but I'd love you for it. ;-)

And in other gift news...

The boys LOVE their Gamecube. We're allowing free rein for as much of the school break as possible, just in the hope that the stunningly addictive newness will wear off a bit. Then it will go into a more orderly slot. Today, I noticed the boys were getting a bit twitchy with one another, and so I set the timer and we turned the thing off at the *ding*. The boys dispersed to do other things, occasionally meandering back in to ask if they could play one. small. game. (No.)

James brought me a handful of coins and said, "Um, Mom, if I give you... *counting* um, 60 cents, will you let me play a game?"

I had to chuckle. "No," but then I had to ask if that was a bribe or just good old-fashioned entreprenurial thinking. It was a bribe, but after I described what a bribe is, he quietly returned his coins to his piggy bank and wandered off to do something else.

Really, though, they've all handled it very graciously. They let Smidge play and don't ride him about the fact that he goes the wrong way most of the time. He's moving and he's part of the team - he's happy. They don't throw spiky turtle bits at him or point out that he loses every time. They cheer one another on, and take their own hits with good humor. As long as that continues, I'm okay with this thing.

Miss Emily has a Dino Drop-N-Whatever. It's a ball thing with tunnels and lights. Although she loves it without the lights, so hey, that's fewer batteries I have to keep track of. Yay. She is one very happy little girl!

And, now that it's taken me three days to get around to posting about Christmas (I did post this morning, but we had a one-second power outage just as I hit "publish" and the computer went down), I'm going to go play for a bit. Zorak wants to race at Waluigi Stadium!

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Merry Christmas!

We had a busy and wonderful Christmas Eve. Miss Terry convinced Zorak to let the children open a few gifts when we visited with them this evening. All the small ones have been snuggled and read to, tucked in (again and again and again). I'd have posted pictures, but I left the camera card home to, um, guard the printer...

It's now five minutes to four. Everything is wrapped. Everything is placed just so. Everything is put away and cleaned and ready for tomorrow. Everything is just perfect, when you are eight and six and four and nearly-one.

I can hardly wait for morning!

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Curse You, Dough Boy!

Miss Emily was sound asleep in my arms. Her weight had settled fully into the pull of gravity. I probably could have tossed her into the air and she wouldn't have stirred. And just as I began to think it might be safe to move, that awful Pillsbury flaky biscut commercial came on. The one with the poor doughboy trudging through, what is that, the Alps? Just to bring us flaky biscuits in a can? Isn't there an easier way? Ah, but it's not him, per se, it's the music. The Ride of the Valkyries comes through the speakers, straight to her ears. Without moving any other muscles, her eyes pop. wide. open.

Game over.

She loves that piece.

This is probably why I normally read instead of watching TV at night. Where is the clicker, anyway?

So, the TV is off now. She's back to sleep. The boys are down. Zorak is down in the basement, doing something constructive. I'm trying to pep talk myself into doing some sewing before heading to bed. (It may, or may not work. Honestly? It's all dependent upon whether Zorak comes up in time to watch a movie with me. Without commercials.)

We got a lot done today. Just a little baking and cleaning left to do tomorrow. That's a nice feeling. Oh, and groceries. OK, and I guess I should admit now that when I bought stocking stuffers, I didn't get any for Miss Emily. She's not getting an entire sock full of sweets (can you imagine the contact high, alone?). She'd only eat tape and batteries, which is what we're putting in the boys' stockings. So, what do you put in a stocking for an almost-one-year old? She's got to have *something* or the boys will forever hold a grudge against Santa (and, by default, me, once the cat's wholly out of the bag). I'm tellin' ya, this is why we only have them one at a time. The learning curve is STEEP.

Ooo, he's up! And he comes bearing what looks like a toy shelf, ready to be assembled. WooHoo! (He also said he'd turn the plans into a .jpg so I can blog the directions. Yay!) I'm gonna go watch a movie! erm, um, sew... and watch a movie. :-)

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

The End of the Day

It's almost one o'clock, and do you know why I'm up? I'm afraid to go to bed.

Zorak's got Baby Girl in bed with him, and if I try to slip in, either she's going to sense my presence and be wide-awake and ready to play, or he's going to roll over on her and then she'll be wide-awake and angry.

Smidge is asleep on the couch - t-shirt, skivvies, one sock, drooling all over the place. He's like a miniature frat boy over there.

John's in the guest room. The pink eye has now spread to the other eye, and... well, ew.

That pretty much leaves me with Smidge's bed (a toddler bed with a crib mattress, not such a good idea for anyone over three feet tall), and John's bed (twin size, but a foam mattress, not such a good idea for anyone over, say, 60 pounds). Indecision has imobilized me, and so, I sit and type, sip coffee, and wait for somebody to wake up and free up a spot for me. Maybe I'll grab a throw and crash on the futon? Maybe tomorrow night *I'll* be the first one to bed and won't have to worry about where everyone else lands? (Yeah, I like that idea.)

We got the house ready for company, and then our company never materialized. No phone call, either. Part of me wonders if Zorak wrote that on the calendar in an effort to get me motivated before the Actual Last Minute. Well, if he did, it worked. I even had time to formulate a plan on the couch - fabric paint. Haul it onto the porch, and turn the kids loose with fabric paint! Wouldn't that make an awesome couch? (Oh, stop. Zorak looked at me like that, too.)

Tomorrow we have to wrap Daddy's gifts. (Right, because we couldn't have done it during the week, while he was at work. I know.) Finish tidying the house and start the baking. We love the baking part. I've also got to dig up my favorite Christmas skirt and pray that either it fits, or that I can find my squisher and make it fit. Everybody else has their Christmas outfits ready to go.

Oh, and sewing - TONS of sewing. James and I are making a Thomas pillowcase for Smige. Then I need to sew the barstool covers (in going with the Biggest Visual Impact theme), and the curtains for the guest room. And stockings. We need two more stockings. The boys have made it clear that Balto MUST have one. And while I sew it, I will think of KathyJo, who said, "I don’t particularly enjoy the process, but I enjoy doing special things for you boys that make you happy." I do. And it will. It will make them very happy.

Ah, I think the futon is calling me.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Woops!

So, if you throw the couch cushion covers into the wash, they'll come out a LOT cleaner than you can get the couch iteself with your Little Green Machine.

I wonder if anyone would believe us when we said it's supposed to be a two-tone design?

Yeah, it's time to start saving for a couch. Thankfully, this one is beyond repair, anyway. I just didn't need to go and make it any uglier than it already was.

Dy

Home Remodel, Holiday Melee

If you were to give a home renovation a difficulty factor to add into the general level of confusion, living in the home during the process counts for a point, at least. Living there with children would certainly weigh heavily, as well. How about the holidays?

I think at that point, you just call it good and aim for finishing the race. Later. As in, next year.

Zorak and I sat down this morning to go through our To-Do list on the house. We listed all the little things, down to restretching the carpets after we've got baseboards down. We came up with a plan, and it felt good.

OK, so we'll mark the things we'd like to do before Christmas. Let's be realistic and just shoot for Biggest Visual Impact. Then, starting in January, we will take one room per weekend and finish it out completely. All those little, niggling things, like touch-up paint and closet trim. At the end (we're hoping by Easter, perhaps), we will be done. Done, as in, "We could sell this house as it stands and not take a loss" done. Ooohhhh. Cool.

We were feeling SO together, and SO on top of things. Then it hit me - aren't we having company today? You know, as in, it's-11:00-and-we're-still-in-our-jammies-and-some-of-us-are-sick-oh-boy-what-now, company!

The Master List is out the window, folks. We're into High Survival Mode now. Lysol, cleaning, scrubbing, frantic attempt to make the place not look like it's been a convalescent home for the motivationally impaired. Ah. Fun. (And yes, company has been forewarned. Company has no small children and is not afraid of the germs. Yay.)

In the words of one of our favorite singers, "Happy Holidays, Y'all!"

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

All is Quiet

I love our pediatrician. He's not an in-your-face practitioner. He knows that I'm the one who has the ultimate responsibility for the well-being of these children. He's a partner in the plan, and we appreciate that. He listens. He advises. And then he leaves the ball in our court. He. Is. Wonderful. He was careful to check for any concurrent icks that may be going on, and all looks well. He also wrote a refill on the prescription in case the other three monkeys get the eye crud over the weekend. Zorak has it, too, poor guy.

John is resting now. He's got antibiotic drops for his eyes, and they sting. I'm pretty sure he cried most of the medication out. Quietly. Holding my hand. He didn't fuss, but you could tell he was miserable. I slipped out of the room to douse a cotton pad in "Mother's Secret Antibiotic Solution" *grin*, and brought it back to him. It's soothing and comforting, and he's now sound asleep, and healing. Tomorrow will be much better.

Miss Emily's teething and her cold kept her up until about two-thirty last night. John awoke at three with his eye glued shut and was awake until a little after five. Just as I got him settled in and asleep, Smidge awoke and ran screaming from his room. I found him in the kitchen, crying and calling for me. Turned out he had bad dreams. By the time all was said and done, I slept about 45 minutes last night. So I'm going to bed.

And I'm thankful for the bed.
For the babies.
For the soft, warm covers.
I'm thankful for the warm, nourishing meal Zorak prepared while I was out with John today.
For the hugs all around when we returned.
For the rest that evening brings, and the fresh start that rises with the sun.

I couldn't talk Zorak out of a foot rub, but that's okay. There is still so much to be thankful for.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

John's Eyes

I love John's eyes. They are beautiful, and they remind me of Zorak's. Deep, rich worlds echo through time in them.
They make me feel centered. They make me want to take off in flight. They are magical.

And they are the source of a lot of my motherly fears.

When John was about seven months old, he was sitting happily in his bouncy seat while I cleaned our little apartment. James had a rag and was helping me "dust". He was only two at the time. We were singing and having a fine time of it.

The dryer stopped. I took the load of clothes out of the dryer and into our room. No sooner had the clothes hit the bed, then I heard John crying. I ran out (it was a very small apartment - maybe 600'sq. - so none of this took much time at all). He was sitting there, his head was wet, and James was trying to comfort him. I smelled him.

Oh. My. God. Chemicals.

I'm ashamed to admit it now, but I freaked. James showed me what he'd used (Formula 409 - it was on the breakfast bar. I had no idea he could reach things on the breakfast bar.) He thought it would be nice to clean the baby. I snatched up John Baby, grabbed the phone, and ran into the bathroom, where, if he could remember the incident, he'd swear I proceeded to try to drown him under the sink faucet. (I was actually trying to rinse his eyes, but things were a bit hairy.)

Called poison control. They said, "Keep rinsing, but call an ambulance NOW." I kept rinsing. I called 911. They came right away. Looked at him, checked the bottle. They recommended he go to the hospital for a thorough eye wash. They called Poison Control, who also recommended a trip to the ER for a thorough eye wash. The ambulance couldn't take me and James, and I had nobody to watch James. The EMT's said they would call it in, and we could drive him ourselves. They called from the house.

We took off. When we got to the ER, they wouldn't see us. They wouldn't even take him into triage for an hour. He wasn't crying, so the nurses wouldn't listen to me. They called Poison Control, who once again recommended an eye wash. They triaged us, and told me to take him home. Said they wouldn't see him. I refused to leave. I asked for a supervisor or the charge nurse. She came out. She'd been briefed. She told me to go home and let him get some rest.

A waitress came in from work. She had a cold. They took her back. They told me again to go home.

Finally, after three hours of waiting, I started yelling. I threatened to call the police, the DA, the newspaper. They put us in the back. We waited another hour.

When the doctor on the floor finally arrived, he got on me about nursing a seven month old. He refused to do an eye wash. He called Poison Control, who stuck by its recommendation for an eye wash. He offered to write a prescription for something (I don't even remember what now, but it had no bearing on John's eyes), and told me to start feeding that child solids. I refused to leave. I told him I would not leave until he either did an eye wash or proved to me that it wasn't needed.

Fine. He agreed to do a litmus test.

pH in this baby's eyes was 11.5.

The doctor ordered an eye wash - immediately - "The large bag."

He sent me a nursing student who'd never done an eye wash before. She panicked and said she didn't know how to do it.

I hooked it up.

I rinsed his eyes.

I cleaned him up.

If we'd listened to the staff, my son's eyes would have liquefied during the night and he would be blind today. As it is, there's no telling what kind of damage was done in the four hours they made us wait, and refused to listen. We've been told the damage could come over the years. He has until four years after his 18th birthday to attempt any recourse, but of course the hospital has covered their collective butts rather well.

They never apologized.

Their records show that treatment was received. End of story.

Aren't they the heroes?

They turned us over to collections for my refusal to pay for this dog and pony show.

We had to pay them off when we bought our Forever Home.

I hate them to this day. Yavapai Regional Medical Center in Prescott, Arizona has killed - outright, through sheer incompetence and arrogance - more people than I could name in one post, and although the damage they did that day is nominal compared to the end result of many of their actions, it's the one that's lodged in my memory as one of the worst days of my life.

And it's the one that makes John's eyes so very precious to me, and makes me so very scared when something, even something small, happens to them.



Kiss those babies.
~Dy

ARGHHH.

So we were invited to supper with friends Saturday night. We were there about half an hour, the kids all playing together, when their precious little 2yo came toddling out, half-awake from a late nap. We had a nice supper, a good visit.

On the way home, Zorak says, "Well, be prepared, I guess."

"For what?"

"The little one has pink eye. Didn't you notice?"

"No. Oh, crap. I thought it was just sleep in her eyes."

"Nope. Pink eye."

Well, we've spent the week holding our collective breath. I really thought if anybody got it, it'd be Emily, since she played with the little one's toys most of the night, and she and the little one played together.

This morning, at a little after three, John comes to me, groggy and panic-stricken, his left eye matted completely shut.

*sigh*

We didn't need this. We really didn't. And after the Big Scary Eye Incident of '01, John's eyesight is the one thing that consistently gives me nightmares that will wake me with a jolt. I worry constantly.

And, if I'd been given a heads up, we'd have taken a raincheck. I don't mess with the eyes. The sniffles? Sure, what kid doesn't get the sniffles? Some of the nastier things? Maybe, depending. But pink eye? No. Would not have chosen to go. And would have been nice to have the choice.

*sigh*

Appointment with the doc at 9:30. Trip to the pharmacy after that, and then, rather than the market and the library, we'll be heading straight home.

ARGH.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Disappear for a few days...

and, wow.

We've been without a phone line (and, therefore, internet access) for two days, with a brief 20-min. reprieve last night. We hit all the highlights: is the bill paid, is the phone plugged in, have mice chewed through the wires in the walls, did a child stick something where it might cause electrical failures? None of those... Called the phone co., and they said it was in their line, they'd have it fixed by Wednesday morning. Wednesday morning came and went... nothing. Called back, and they said it was in the house. (Thanks for the heads up, guys!) And then, ohhhh... I was at the point of thinking I might have to admit that I'd done something horrible to something technological, and had no idea what it was.

Turns out (happy dance) that a wire had broken down in the basement. It wasn't me! It wasn't the kids! I don't know what happened, but it wasn't us! Yippee. Fudge and hot chocolate all around.

And did you know that without internet access, we still don't get much accomplished? I always read these inspirational stories about all the work people get done when they don't have email or boards to read. Pffttt. Not us, man. The boys and I can kick some serious boo-tay at Computer Solitaire and Pinball now, though.

So. Anyway, we're about as ready for Christmas as it's going to get. One last package arrived today, from Dover Publishing. Yes, I order Christmas gifts from Dover. My children may need therapy, but I don't care - at least they'll have something to read in the therapist's waiting room! We'll do a little spiffing and more normalizing of the place over the weekend, and that's about it on our schedule. I forgot to tell Zorak we were taking off from lessons, and when he asked the boys what they did in school one day, they both said, "Nothing. Same as usual." Meaning, one would hope, the same as usual FOR THE WEEK. But eh, nothing like leaving 'em hanging. (Which, naturally, I couldn't. I just had to yell from the other room, "We're on Christmas Break!" Yes, yes, I know. He trusts me. He knows they're learning. He knows they're fine. But, still... "nothing?" C'mon. You can't leave that just dangling out there, looking awkward.)

Kiss those babies!
~Dy