"What club?"
"The church club."
"Yeah... I noticed."
We went to the VTC again today. They don't really break between Sunday School and the service (the pause is only long enough for the pianist to walk to the front of the church and sit down), and two and a half hours is just a bit long for the little guys to sit still and quiet without any kind of a break (potty, snack, stretch-yer-legs). So we decided to go for the service only, which the sign says begins at 10:35. We got there at 10:30. Sunday school ended around 10:50, and they moved right into the service. We got out of there at almost one. I asked what time they normally end Sunday School (thinking that perhaps today had been a special study), and was told, "Whenever I finish." Oh. Well, that'll make planning easy.
After the service, the pastor's wife approached and mentioned that it's been a while since she's vaccumed in there and hoped we didn't encounter too many bugs when I'd taken EmBaby to the far back for a bit. (We did. They were pretty numerous. The windows are filthy, too, and the place could use a dusting.) She said she'd get the vaccum out and bring it over and tidy up a bit, and so I offered to come and help. I've never been in a congregation that wasn't clamoring for women to come help clean the church. That is, never been to one until today. You'd have thought I'd said I'd come clean her home. Nope, they don't need any help with cleaning the church. OK, well, you know, if you ever do the big spring cleaning, or need help with the woodwork, or whatev--- "NOPE. We don't need any help ever. We're fine."
Uh-huh.
On the way down the steps, I asked the pastor about two of the ill who'd been mentioned in the prayers that morning, and let him know that if anybody is ever ill or homebound and they need someone to do grocery shopping or bring meals, please don't hesitate to let me know. His response took me by surprise: "We take care of our own in this community. We don't turn to any 'church organizations' when we need something." He expounded a bit, but it didn't make any more sense than that, and wasn't nearly as gentle.
That, a few other things, all of it together, struck me as... odd. Isn't a congregation part of the community? Isn't it the calling of the church to take care of those who need care? I wasn't offering to send out FEMA requests, or to call in a representative from a large national organization to come survey the situation and make recommendations. I was offering to help, myself, in person. Coming from a pastor, as well, the facial display of ironic quotes when he said "church organizations" seemed a bit... well, off. I thought maybe I was just being prideful in feeling snubbed so curtly, and decided not to say anything more about it.
Then on the drive home, Zorak hit me with the observation above. That's how it sure looked from his point of view. Folks, just a tip: when someone from outside your faith sees the flock snubbing other believers, it's Painfully Obvious. You're not being subtle, or probably even kind.
*sigh*
I know. We're not "from here". You don't have to remind me. (And I wish the people who are From Here would stop making such a point of it, themselves.)
I don't know how long this congregation has been down to five people, but it seems its been long enough that they've become settled in their ways. To the pastor's wife, it probably felt as if I *did* offer to come clean her home. In her mind, that's her church. She cleans it. She decorates it. It's hers. I wouldn't even say she knows she's developed that attitude, honestly. She acted more offended by my offer than anything.
Same thing with not taking a fellowship break between Sunday School and the service. Everybody who comes is there, so let's just move on. It's comfortable for them, and it works... for them.
And the pastor's response to an offer of a warm body to help out when help is needed? I have no idea.
But I want to cry.
If you don't mind the construction dust, come on in. The coffee's hot, the food's good, and the door is open...
Sunday, May 6
Saturday Wrap-Up
The game this morning was amazing. Both teams played their wee hearts out. The team they played today has an inordinate number of little guys, too, and that made the coaches from both teams out on the field look like the Gulliver family enjoying a reunion in Lilliput. John's team lost this game - something like 17 - 14. It was close, hard, and fast. Kids flying past home plate from both teams the entire time. Obviously, neither team has quite mastered the whole concept of "fielding the ball" yet. But they had fun, and there was no tension, no attitude, from the stands or the refs. It was what baseball should look like. Good, good stuff.
Zorak's making progress in the basement. He built a door for the Scary Room, strung more wire (thus bringing the rest of the lights up to code), and added a few much-needed outlets. There's only one more wire to run and we can put the cover back on the electrical box! WOOHOO! He also cleaned up a lot down there.
The boys tended the fire. And had a sword fight. Thankfully, not all at the same time.
Zorak built stilts for the boys, and they had a blast trying to master a new skill.
BabyGirl ran around in circles, fed the Baltoid by hand, and insisted on climbing the Terrifyingly Dangerous Stairs to the Very Dangerous Balcony. (Anyone know where I can get a shirt that says, "No, I do not know fear"?)
James just about made me cry when he hit a MAJOR "growing up" milestone today. He started to snap at one of his brothers (who was, admittedly, being a bit irritating), but he stopped himself, and corrected his tone - without prompting from an adult! Nobody said anything, he just caught it on his own. Oh! It was beautiful. *sniff* My baby's growing up.
I spent h-o-u-r-s decluttering. I swear our paper products must be made of rabbit. There's no way we have brought *that much* paper into the house in the last month, so it's got to be breeding. New House Rule: you may not leave any two sheets of paper unchaperoned for longer than one day. (And if that doesn't work, then all paper products will be checked at the door.)
The rest of the day was pretty much the same old stuff: we wrote, we read, we laughed; we talked, we ate, we worked. Well, I say "same old stuff", but it's the stuff that holds the day together amidst the decluttering and building and planning. That's the stuff that gives you the time to make eye contact more, and smile a little longer, and sit closer together. In that stuff is where you get to say to your children, "I'm here," and they get to say to you, "We know." Can't beat that, even if it's not hilarious or poignant or eloquent.
I don't know what I would do if it weren't for the downtime, the loud and raucous time, the together time. A friend said something a while back about how hard it would be to get things accomplished when you never get six hours during the day with all the children gone, to get things done, to regroup, and to take quiet breaks. At first, I thought, "well, yeah, that's true," but then I realized, "*pfft* who am I kidding? If I had six hours to myself every day, I wouldn't accomplish a darned thing. I'd put the coffee pot and half-gallon jug of creamer on my nightstand, dig out the stash of Zebra Cakes, and spend six hours every day reading in bed and eating myself into a coma!" Sure, it sounds heavenly for the first three or four hundred pounds, but eventually? No, let's face it - the life I have right now is exactly the life I need. They keep me focused, keep me honest, and keep me going. It's really, really good.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Zorak's making progress in the basement. He built a door for the Scary Room, strung more wire (thus bringing the rest of the lights up to code), and added a few much-needed outlets. There's only one more wire to run and we can put the cover back on the electrical box! WOOHOO! He also cleaned up a lot down there.
The boys tended the fire. And had a sword fight. Thankfully, not all at the same time.
Zorak built stilts for the boys, and they had a blast trying to master a new skill.
BabyGirl ran around in circles, fed the Baltoid by hand, and insisted on climbing the Terrifyingly Dangerous Stairs to the Very Dangerous Balcony. (Anyone know where I can get a shirt that says, "No, I do not know fear"?)
James just about made me cry when he hit a MAJOR "growing up" milestone today. He started to snap at one of his brothers (who was, admittedly, being a bit irritating), but he stopped himself, and corrected his tone - without prompting from an adult! Nobody said anything, he just caught it on his own. Oh! It was beautiful. *sniff* My baby's growing up.
I spent h-o-u-r-s decluttering. I swear our paper products must be made of rabbit. There's no way we have brought *that much* paper into the house in the last month, so it's got to be breeding. New House Rule: you may not leave any two sheets of paper unchaperoned for longer than one day. (And if that doesn't work, then all paper products will be checked at the door.)
The rest of the day was pretty much the same old stuff: we wrote, we read, we laughed; we talked, we ate, we worked. Well, I say "same old stuff", but it's the stuff that holds the day together amidst the decluttering and building and planning. That's the stuff that gives you the time to make eye contact more, and smile a little longer, and sit closer together. In that stuff is where you get to say to your children, "I'm here," and they get to say to you, "We know." Can't beat that, even if it's not hilarious or poignant or eloquent.
I don't know what I would do if it weren't for the downtime, the loud and raucous time, the together time. A friend said something a while back about how hard it would be to get things accomplished when you never get six hours during the day with all the children gone, to get things done, to regroup, and to take quiet breaks. At first, I thought, "well, yeah, that's true," but then I realized, "*pfft* who am I kidding? If I had six hours to myself every day, I wouldn't accomplish a darned thing. I'd put the coffee pot and half-gallon jug of creamer on my nightstand, dig out the stash of Zebra Cakes, and spend six hours every day reading in bed and eating myself into a coma!" Sure, it sounds heavenly for the first three or four hundred pounds, but eventually? No, let's face it - the life I have right now is exactly the life I need. They keep me focused, keep me honest, and keep me going. It's really, really good.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Labels:
just... stuff,
life in the south,
littles,
This Old Shack
Friday, May 4
Citrus and Beverage Stands
Not-so-clever attempt at avoiding a cliche. ;-) There's that, and the Byrds (or Solomon's) To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven... *pfft* That is so much easier to say (or sing) and not mean (or to mean, but from a distance; makes a delightful third person pep talk), than to live and still say meaningfully. Let's just say I don't think the Book of Ecclesiastes was written by a hormonal woman. It's still wise, and good, and pertinent. It's just far easier to identify with at certain times. This is not one of those times.
But even so, it's been a good week.
Zorak did some concrete work in the basement this week and had a little leftover cement, so he got the boys together and they made "dinosaur eggs" using that and the plastic Easter egg remnants. Today they opened the molds, and the little eggs look great. We'll put some clutches out in the garden beds next week.
The horned toad we were planning to mummify... well, we packed it in salt so it wouldn't puff up and rot before we could buy the materials to preserve it. Then Zorak built a "tomb" to keep Baltoid out. And it seems the tomb was so well-concealed that we forgot about it. I'm mostly afraid to go look now. But we did get all the things to mummify it. Think we'll have another slightly cool day before summer hits full-on?
While everybody else was busy watching William the Conqueror and the Tapestry of Bayeux, both of which are excellent, I found this little gem...
And I've been giggling to myself all night.
Yes. It's been good.
Kiss those babies!
Dy
But even so, it's been a good week.
Zorak did some concrete work in the basement this week and had a little leftover cement, so he got the boys together and they made "dinosaur eggs" using that and the plastic Easter egg remnants. Today they opened the molds, and the little eggs look great. We'll put some clutches out in the garden beds next week.
The horned toad we were planning to mummify... well, we packed it in salt so it wouldn't puff up and rot before we could buy the materials to preserve it. Then Zorak built a "tomb" to keep Baltoid out. And it seems the tomb was so well-concealed that we forgot about it. I'm mostly afraid to go look now. But we did get all the things to mummify it. Think we'll have another slightly cool day before summer hits full-on?
While everybody else was busy watching William the Conqueror and the Tapestry of Bayeux, both of which are excellent, I found this little gem...
And I've been giggling to myself all night.
Yes. It's been good.
Kiss those babies!
Dy
Thursday, May 3
Too yummy not to share.
A cup (or so) of frozen blueberries.
One can of coconut milk.
Half a cup of cold water.
2 Tbsp. cooking oil (NOT olive, okay? Ew.)
1/4-ish c. sugar (or perhaps honey? Somebody try honey and let us know how it works!)
Dump all this into your blender. Fill it almot to the top with ice. Blend for two full minutes.
Goes great with lunch! (And look, Melissa, it's kinda healthy... And Amy, I didn't use the "t" word!)
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
One can of coconut milk.
Half a cup of cold water.
2 Tbsp. cooking oil (NOT olive, okay? Ew.)
1/4-ish c. sugar (or perhaps honey? Somebody try honey and let us know how it works!)
Dump all this into your blender. Fill it almot to the top with ice. Blend for two full minutes.
Goes great with lunch! (And look, Melissa, it's kinda healthy... And Amy, I didn't use the "t" word!)
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Heh. Yeah.
Well, we had great morning lessons, and then, since the humidity wasn't stifling, we headed out-of-doors. (That sounds so formal, doesn't it?) The boys wanted to help me mark out a track for our walking/running plans (I've been wanting to do the Couch Potato-to-5K program), so we got started on that.
Um, what's less active than a couch potato? Would that be the eye of the potato, perhaps? Or just the skin? Whatever it is, that's me. Whoo-boy. The boys endeavored to make me feel better, though, by bolting back into the house for granola bars so they could snack while we trekked, and then back and forth for water breaks, and finally yet again for books to read. When I'd had enough of their mocking (and I couldn't breathe anymore), we plopped down in the grass with our books and inhaled gnats for a while. That was nice.
The boys did copywork and illustrations today, which they enjoy more than narrations, but less than, say, puppet shows. John copied and illustrated the opening lines to the poem, "My Town", by Lois Lenski. James chose a quote from Themistocles' teacher:
(On TV? Where is he seeing blurred faces - OR private parts - on TV? Do I need to be keeping a closer eye on PBS?) Ahhh, moving along, then.
We made the pendant craft from Chapter 37 in SOTW. And we now have one tiny head, two brittle snakes, and three broken, chipped, or cracked pieces of pottery pendants lying about the kitchen. Probably not the best craft for this crowd. But by gum, we did it, and we enjoyed it! GO US!
Then we blew an hour and watched Radio, which made me cry, of course. The boys decided it would cheer me up if we went outside to play frisbee. They were right. That was a hoot!
Zorak arrived home to find his clan enjoying the afternoon breezes, running about, mowing the lawn, eating the pine cones. (I'll let you decide who was doing what. There was an awful lot of activity, and it's sometimes hard to keep it straight.) Really, it was good.
Then, thanks to our running and snuggling and mowing and squirrelling, the children peacably brushed and flossed and curled up for the bedtime read, but didn't make it through more than three pages. What a great day!
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Um, what's less active than a couch potato? Would that be the eye of the potato, perhaps? Or just the skin? Whatever it is, that's me. Whoo-boy. The boys endeavored to make me feel better, though, by bolting back into the house for granola bars so they could snack while we trekked, and then back and forth for water breaks, and finally yet again for books to read. When I'd had enough of their mocking (and I couldn't breathe anymore), we plopped down in the grass with our books and inhaled gnats for a while. That was nice.
The boys did copywork and illustrations today, which they enjoy more than narrations, but less than, say, puppet shows. John copied and illustrated the opening lines to the poem, "My Town", by Lois Lenski. James chose a quote from Themistocles' teacher:
You, Themistocles, are destined to be something out of the ordinary. Great you will be one way or the other, either for good or for evil.It was all uneventful until he showed me his illustration. Is that a loin cloth? "No," he says, "See, it's just like how they blur faces and private parts on TV, with the little squares. Cool, huh?"
(On TV? Where is he seeing blurred faces - OR private parts - on TV? Do I need to be keeping a closer eye on PBS?) Ahhh, moving along, then.
We made the pendant craft from Chapter 37 in SOTW. And we now have one tiny head, two brittle snakes, and three broken, chipped, or cracked pieces of pottery pendants lying about the kitchen. Probably not the best craft for this crowd. But by gum, we did it, and we enjoyed it! GO US!
Then we blew an hour and watched Radio, which made me cry, of course. The boys decided it would cheer me up if we went outside to play frisbee. They were right. That was a hoot!
Zorak arrived home to find his clan enjoying the afternoon breezes, running about, mowing the lawn, eating the pine cones. (I'll let you decide who was doing what. There was an awful lot of activity, and it's sometimes hard to keep it straight.) Really, it was good.
Then, thanks to our running and snuggling and mowing and squirrelling, the children peacably brushed and flossed and curled up for the bedtime read, but didn't make it through more than three pages. What a great day!
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Labels:
education,
just... stuff,
life in the south,
littles
Wednesday, May 2
I need a name for these!
Oh. My. Word. I love squash, but if I had to face another plate of steamed or broiled squash slices, I'm afraid I was going to go Serial Mom. So, get creative. Why not? If you have a firm grasp of what will and will not explode upon combining, then the kitchen is your Crazy Private Lab. It's like I told LB; in theory, I'm a great cook! ;-)
Anyway, I have no idea what to call these things, and the only things popping into my head are cheesy 1960's-era names like "Heavenly Squash Cakes" or "One Potato, Two Potato, Three..." well, ew. That's just where I give up. (And this would probably be a good time to remind you all to visit the Gallery of Regrettable Foods! If you haven't been before, you'll laugh until you embarrass yourself or your loved ones. If you haven't been in a while, well, nothing like a little Broiled Yeti... yeah, to get you through the arsenic hour! *note: not for the children, the squeamish, or the prim*)
However, this recipe is a wholly G-rated, family affair. EmBaby has eaten two already, and supper's not even on the table.
Here, try them:
-Pre-heat your griddle to... oh, let's go with Hot.
-Make the two-serving size of instant mashed potatoes. (Or make two servings of regular mashed potatoes. I won't tell if you won't.)
-Shred one yellow squash and one zucchini (use the carrot shredder)
-Sautee (brown, whatever, I'm not finicky) half an onion and one clove of garlic (squished or pressed - however you break it up is fine) just until softened
Dump the potatoes and the squashes into a big bowl. Crack an egg into that, and blend. Add the onions and seasoning to taste. Blend well.
The mixture will be a bit thin for cooking at this point. Throw in some flour. I used bean flour. You can use whatever you'd normally use. (Why do I even bother with writing down recipes? I know.) About a quarter to half a cup, depending on how much moisture your squashes had in them. It'll be about the consistency of pancake batter when it's right. Lumpy pancake batter with colorful bits in it.
Use some kind of scooping device (I'd go with a Tablespoon, for uniformity and ease of flipping) to scoop the concoction onto the Hot griddle. Smooth out a bit. Cook until brown on one side. Flip. Repeat. Remove to plate.
OK, seeing it written down, they're basically potato pancakes with squash. That doesn't sound as good as these things taste, though. Seriously - YUM!
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Anyway, I have no idea what to call these things, and the only things popping into my head are cheesy 1960's-era names like "Heavenly Squash Cakes" or "One Potato, Two Potato, Three..." well, ew. That's just where I give up. (And this would probably be a good time to remind you all to visit the Gallery of Regrettable Foods! If you haven't been before, you'll laugh until you embarrass yourself or your loved ones. If you haven't been in a while, well, nothing like a little Broiled Yeti... yeah, to get you through the arsenic hour! *note: not for the children, the squeamish, or the prim*)
However, this recipe is a wholly G-rated, family affair. EmBaby has eaten two already, and supper's not even on the table.
Here, try them:
-Pre-heat your griddle to... oh, let's go with Hot.
-Make the two-serving size of instant mashed potatoes. (Or make two servings of regular mashed potatoes. I won't tell if you won't.)
-Shred one yellow squash and one zucchini (use the carrot shredder)
-Sautee (brown, whatever, I'm not finicky) half an onion and one clove of garlic (squished or pressed - however you break it up is fine) just until softened
Dump the potatoes and the squashes into a big bowl. Crack an egg into that, and blend. Add the onions and seasoning to taste. Blend well.
The mixture will be a bit thin for cooking at this point. Throw in some flour. I used bean flour. You can use whatever you'd normally use. (Why do I even bother with writing down recipes? I know.) About a quarter to half a cup, depending on how much moisture your squashes had in them. It'll be about the consistency of pancake batter when it's right. Lumpy pancake batter with colorful bits in it.
Use some kind of scooping device (I'd go with a Tablespoon, for uniformity and ease of flipping) to scoop the concoction onto the Hot griddle. Smooth out a bit. Cook until brown on one side. Flip. Repeat. Remove to plate.
OK, seeing it written down, they're basically potato pancakes with squash. That doesn't sound as good as these things taste, though. Seriously - YUM!
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
A Good Homeschool Morning!
I had a splendid plan to get up early this morning to go walking. Sounded good, anyway, until the sun peered in the window, the birds began their serenade, and the Mighty Snuggly Smidge crept into bed to... well, to snuggle. And so, instead, we all slept in a bit, and are now enjoying hot tea, Themistocles, free play... and the free concert the birds are still providing. If we had a porch swing, we'd be out there right now, instead. (As a matter of fact, I've decided a nice, big porch swing is a homeschooling necessity. Skip the desk, use the kitchen table, and invest in a swing. Yup.) We'll walk later, when our lessons are done.
Spring brings with it an end to our mini-hibernation from the bitter cold of January. We get out and roll about in the daffodils. We stretch our limbs and scratch our mosquito bites. But we keep learning. Spring is a good time to review the plan and see how it's coming along. And that's what we've been doing. I like taking that time to review my job. For instance, it's my job to create a safe place for our children to learn, to provide good things for our children to learn, and to model the things for these children to learn. It's the best job I've ever had, and yes, a task to which I sometimes feel inadequate. But when that happens, it's not a time to give up (how would we feel about any teacher, pastor, mentor who simply rolled over and gave up when things got a bit challenging?) That's when it's time for me to take a deep breath, take stock of our plan, and work a little harder at what I do. Part of that whole modeling thing, I suppose. It pays off.
I had the delight yesterday of watching one of my children do something "for fun" that, just six months ago, would have caused him no end of frustration and sadness. He sat, writing words, solving crossword puzzles, reading directions, as if he'd been doing it his whole life. He giggled at silly games and said laughingly, "Oh, I know this! It's easy!" And it is, now. But I remember when those things didn't come easy for him, when the task of deciphering felt insurmountable to him. And I couldn't help but smile because this whole world is open to him in a way we often take for granted. I'm thankful to be a part of his learning adventure. And I'm humbled, when I stop to think that I have been a participant in history. Not world history, perhaps, nor even events that will make it into the annals of the state records. But our history. His history. His story. Wow.
While one child enjoys the gift of the written word, another child grapples with the spoken word. He works hard, every day, to express himself more clearly, to grasp the sounds and syllables that often evade only him. His speech and vocabulary have expanded tremendously this last year, but the work isn't done. He knows it, and I know it. And that's okay. He knows we are a team, and we're working toward the same goal. He knows he's safe among us and won't be ridiculed for his failures. He knows they won't be counted as failures, or held against him, or used to define who he is. His "classmates" won't ever tease him, or mock him for that which he attempts -- whether he succeeds or not. He knows that when he does succeed, we'll be there to lift him up in triumph. He knows that when he needs to try again, we'll be there to cheer him on. Of course, he doesn't know how to express it like that. He doesn't even know there is another way to learn, to live. And once more, I'm humbled and thankful.
And again, I've watched another child (wow, there's a lot of children in this reverie!) fly through some tasks and skills with the ease of one who has been doing them for ages, then in turn struggle and wrestle with others. So while the math and the science, the analysis and deduction all come intuitively to him, the self-discipline of staying on task and paying attention, of remembering what he's heard, and remembering that he's supposed to be reading... and paying attention to what he's read... well, those are his special challenges. And I am here, to guide, instruct, cheer, encourage. He'll get it, and it'll be his hard work that gets him there. But I will be there when he does, and I will know just what it took for him to enjoy the savory, rich flavor of a job well done.
The thing that strikes me clearly is that none of this is due to any Phenomenal Educational Training on my part. It's the dynamic of our homeschool. It's the ebb and flow of Life that we've chosen to embrace. It's the Big Picture goals Zorak and I have set for our home, our family, and our children. What they do with the tools we give them is up to them entirely. We hope to teach them to use their tools well, to take care of their tools, and to put them to good use no matter where they go or what they do in their lives.
And in the meantime, we're here. We're modeling. We're learning, striving, failing, achieving. I can't think of a better place for a child to learn than right here, at home.
Spring brings with it an end to our mini-hibernation from the bitter cold of January. We get out and roll about in the daffodils. We stretch our limbs and scratch our mosquito bites. But we keep learning. Spring is a good time to review the plan and see how it's coming along. And that's what we've been doing. I like taking that time to review my job. For instance, it's my job to create a safe place for our children to learn, to provide good things for our children to learn, and to model the things for these children to learn. It's the best job I've ever had, and yes, a task to which I sometimes feel inadequate. But when that happens, it's not a time to give up (how would we feel about any teacher, pastor, mentor who simply rolled over and gave up when things got a bit challenging?) That's when it's time for me to take a deep breath, take stock of our plan, and work a little harder at what I do. Part of that whole modeling thing, I suppose. It pays off.
I had the delight yesterday of watching one of my children do something "for fun" that, just six months ago, would have caused him no end of frustration and sadness. He sat, writing words, solving crossword puzzles, reading directions, as if he'd been doing it his whole life. He giggled at silly games and said laughingly, "Oh, I know this! It's easy!" And it is, now. But I remember when those things didn't come easy for him, when the task of deciphering felt insurmountable to him. And I couldn't help but smile because this whole world is open to him in a way we often take for granted. I'm thankful to be a part of his learning adventure. And I'm humbled, when I stop to think that I have been a participant in history. Not world history, perhaps, nor even events that will make it into the annals of the state records. But our history. His history. His story. Wow.
While one child enjoys the gift of the written word, another child grapples with the spoken word. He works hard, every day, to express himself more clearly, to grasp the sounds and syllables that often evade only him. His speech and vocabulary have expanded tremendously this last year, but the work isn't done. He knows it, and I know it. And that's okay. He knows we are a team, and we're working toward the same goal. He knows he's safe among us and won't be ridiculed for his failures. He knows they won't be counted as failures, or held against him, or used to define who he is. His "classmates" won't ever tease him, or mock him for that which he attempts -- whether he succeeds or not. He knows that when he does succeed, we'll be there to lift him up in triumph. He knows that when he needs to try again, we'll be there to cheer him on. Of course, he doesn't know how to express it like that. He doesn't even know there is another way to learn, to live. And once more, I'm humbled and thankful.
And again, I've watched another child (wow, there's a lot of children in this reverie!) fly through some tasks and skills with the ease of one who has been doing them for ages, then in turn struggle and wrestle with others. So while the math and the science, the analysis and deduction all come intuitively to him, the self-discipline of staying on task and paying attention, of remembering what he's heard, and remembering that he's supposed to be reading... and paying attention to what he's read... well, those are his special challenges. And I am here, to guide, instruct, cheer, encourage. He'll get it, and it'll be his hard work that gets him there. But I will be there when he does, and I will know just what it took for him to enjoy the savory, rich flavor of a job well done.
The thing that strikes me clearly is that none of this is due to any Phenomenal Educational Training on my part. It's the dynamic of our homeschool. It's the ebb and flow of Life that we've chosen to embrace. It's the Big Picture goals Zorak and I have set for our home, our family, and our children. What they do with the tools we give them is up to them entirely. We hope to teach them to use their tools well, to take care of their tools, and to put them to good use no matter where they go or what they do in their lives.
And in the meantime, we're here. We're modeling. We're learning, striving, failing, achieving. I can't think of a better place for a child to learn than right here, at home.
Tuesday, May 1
Oh, boy!
So I gave the Small Ones the option to stay inside and help me clean, or go outside and play. A no-brainer, I know. Normally, we do work together. I just don't have it in me today to direct traffic, and the house is shot. So, go! Play! Enjoy the day!
Smidge came back in. "Me done playing outside." Oh, yeah? Well, if you come in, you'll be cleaning. "Mmm, okay. Me clean." Heh. Ok.
I got him set up in his room, putting Tinker Toys back in the bucket. Simple enough for a 3yo to do, right?
He comes out, "Look! A sword!"
Yes, honey, that's a nice sword. Put it in the sword bucket, please.
He disappears, only to reappear a moment later with a new creation. "Look! TWO swords!"
Oh, aren't you a handsome knight? You're the Knight of Cleanliness. Put it up.
He starts back down the hall. Stops. Comes running back up the hall. "Me no knight. Me a WARRIOR!"
*chuckle* OK, warrior. Go pick up your things.
"Mmmmm. Nope. Me no knight. Me WARRIOR. Warriors no clean. They FIGHT!"
Ahhh. Well, then. So much for my brilliant child psychology tactics.
Kiss those wee warriors!
~Dy
Smidge came back in. "Me done playing outside." Oh, yeah? Well, if you come in, you'll be cleaning. "Mmm, okay. Me clean." Heh. Ok.
I got him set up in his room, putting Tinker Toys back in the bucket. Simple enough for a 3yo to do, right?
He comes out, "Look! A sword!"
Yes, honey, that's a nice sword. Put it in the sword bucket, please.
He disappears, only to reappear a moment later with a new creation. "Look! TWO swords!"
Oh, aren't you a handsome knight? You're the Knight of Cleanliness. Put it up.
He starts back down the hall. Stops. Comes running back up the hall. "Me no knight. Me a WARRIOR!"
*chuckle* OK, warrior. Go pick up your things.
"Mmmmm. Nope. Me no knight. Me WARRIOR. Warriors no clean. They FIGHT!"
Ahhh. Well, then. So much for my brilliant child psychology tactics.
Kiss those wee warriors!
~Dy
THEY WON!
Oh, and I missed it! But John's team won the game last night. I can't get details from anybody about the game. Zorak came in, fed John a hot dog and then promptly passed out. James just doesn't pay that much attention. John was too excited and exhausted to remember anything. Smidge... well, actually, he'd have been my best bet. But I didn't get to him in time, and something else had already filled in RAM for the night.
So I don't know what happened.
But I do know that John got the game ball. That really made him beam. He's carrying it around this morning. (I don't know if it's a standard tradition, but Coach Paul gives a game ball to one player after each game. He shoots to find something to really boost the children up, through the work and effort they've put into it.) John said, "Mom, I got the game ball for hitting a triple, but I'm not sure what a triple is." Oh. OK. Well, that's a clue, at least. :-)
Happy children. Good stuff. Good morning!
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
So I don't know what happened.
But I do know that John got the game ball. That really made him beam. He's carrying it around this morning. (I don't know if it's a standard tradition, but Coach Paul gives a game ball to one player after each game. He shoots to find something to really boost the children up, through the work and effort they've put into it.) John said, "Mom, I got the game ball for hitting a triple, but I'm not sure what a triple is." Oh. OK. Well, that's a clue, at least. :-)
Happy children. Good stuff. Good morning!
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Monday, April 30
Monday Evening
This is why I've never done drugs: one minute I'm reading the front of the saline bag, and the next minute a nurse is walking me to the door. I have only second-hand input as to what has happened to me, and absolutely no recollection of the event at all. What a wild sensation! Thank you for the prayers. I'm guessing it went well. That's the first time I've been put under since I was eleven months old.
The staff is delightfully cheerful, and this is perhaps the first time my smart-alec sense of humor didn't get me nasty looks. The nurse gave me the run-down on staying relaxed, putting my feet up, drinking something sweet until the effects wear off, "pretend you're at the spa, okay?"... I laughed and told her I may just be back again next month. Well, after the fact, no, I'm not going back again next month. (God willing.) But Zorak has been wonderful, and I do appreciate it. He kept the little ones comfy and happy and brought me a Vicodin every three hours, and I've slept the day away.
John's second game is going right now. I'm irrationally sad to have missed that, but truth be told, I don't think the bleachers are the best place for me to be at the moment.
And that's about all the brain cells I've got to rub together at the moment. Just wanted to touch base and say howdy. I'm going to go dig up some pudding and a soda!
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
The staff is delightfully cheerful, and this is perhaps the first time my smart-alec sense of humor didn't get me nasty looks. The nurse gave me the run-down on staying relaxed, putting my feet up, drinking something sweet until the effects wear off, "pretend you're at the spa, okay?"... I laughed and told her I may just be back again next month. Well, after the fact, no, I'm not going back again next month. (God willing.) But Zorak has been wonderful, and I do appreciate it. He kept the little ones comfy and happy and brought me a Vicodin every three hours, and I've slept the day away.
John's second game is going right now. I'm irrationally sad to have missed that, but truth be told, I don't think the bleachers are the best place for me to be at the moment.
And that's about all the brain cells I've got to rub together at the moment. Just wanted to touch base and say howdy. I'm going to go dig up some pudding and a soda!
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Sunday, April 29
Really Nice Sundays
Andie asked, "Who... is Claudia?" Is she a mystery guest? An "invisible friend"? A fully-developed figment of my imagination? No, although it wouldn't hurt my case any if she'd leave a comment now and then. *ahem* She's real.
If you've read here for a while, you know that we have been fortunate enough to find Wonderful Neighbors in nearly every place we've lived. In Maryland, we had our Wonderful Neighbors and their two Wonderful Daughters. In New Mexico, we had Wonderful Family, and it's a small state. Way, way back in Arizona, we had Wonderful Neighbors Ben & Claudia. Ben went to school with Zorak. Then they moved into the apartment adjacent to ours. We shared a landing, which was handy - just one baby gate at the top of the stairs and all the children had free rein of both apartments and an outside playspace. Well, they live here now, too! They're still Wonderful, but now they live "down the road a piece", so I had to switch to using their normal names rather than the generic moniker of "Our Wonderful Neighbors". They'll probably become a blog staple. I should see if she wants cool nicknames.
So, we've begun a bit of a tradition lately, which I hope they enjoy as much as we do: Sunday Supper. It's not quite the way the Old Timers did it. Or perhaps it is. I'm not sure. It's laid-back, usually a pot luck affair. Today it was a picnic affair, per the requests of the Small Ones. The five boys get to run about and be squirrelly and shake off the trauma of having to be still ALL MORNING LONG. They get to play in the barn, in the creek, in the woods. Claudia and I get to sit in the grass, wondering if we'll have ticks after all this, while the babies free range and graze and trade sippy cups. It's really nice, and hopefully as we gather people, we'll find others who would enjoy coming to our place for Sunday Supper. Door's open, come on over!
We tried the VTC today. Wow. Yes. Tiny. Five people, including the pastor. But the pastor is good. He's wise, but not haughty. He's slightly grizzled, but not in a David Allen Coe sort of way. Good stuff. Everybody made a point of reminding us that they've all done their toddler-time in the pews, and they remember what it's like. One or two parishoners also mentioned that it's great stuff... in retrospect. Everybody was glad to have the children there. The pastor pointed out a room at the back of the sanctuary and said that they'd be happy to start up a children's Sunday School program if we would like. The boys liked it pretty well, although there was no break between Sunday School and the service, and we all could have used a little leg-stretching and a snack. The music is just as bad as it is at the VSC, but they do give it their all. I think my favorite quote from the day came from the pastor, in response to our appreciation for their patience with the children's noise. He said, "I've preached in congregations with upwards of 400 people. I can talk above anything." Gotta love a pastor who can go with the flow! Zorak wasn't feeling 100% this morning, so he stayed home to rest up a bit. I wish he could have gone with us, so we could be more certain, but I think this may be it.
Tomorrow I have to be at the oral surgeon's office at 8:30. (HOW am I supposed to get up, dressed and out the door that early without my COFFEE?!?!?) If you wouldn't mind, please say a prayer for the procedure. I'm feeling like quite the weenie at this point, and a little beat up over this whole mess. Yes, it's minor. Yes, I know, it could be far worse. That doesn't really make me feel any better, though. It only ups the weenie factor. ;-) I'm thankful, though, that Zorak will have the Small Ones. Knowing that they're with him, and all that that entails, makes it easier for me to do so many things with a calmed heart. What would I do without that man?
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
If you've read here for a while, you know that we have been fortunate enough to find Wonderful Neighbors in nearly every place we've lived. In Maryland, we had our Wonderful Neighbors and their two Wonderful Daughters. In New Mexico, we had Wonderful Family, and it's a small state. Way, way back in Arizona, we had Wonderful Neighbors Ben & Claudia. Ben went to school with Zorak. Then they moved into the apartment adjacent to ours. We shared a landing, which was handy - just one baby gate at the top of the stairs and all the children had free rein of both apartments and an outside playspace. Well, they live here now, too! They're still Wonderful, but now they live "down the road a piece", so I had to switch to using their normal names rather than the generic moniker of "Our Wonderful Neighbors". They'll probably become a blog staple. I should see if she wants cool nicknames.
So, we've begun a bit of a tradition lately, which I hope they enjoy as much as we do: Sunday Supper. It's not quite the way the Old Timers did it. Or perhaps it is. I'm not sure. It's laid-back, usually a pot luck affair. Today it was a picnic affair, per the requests of the Small Ones. The five boys get to run about and be squirrelly and shake off the trauma of having to be still ALL MORNING LONG. They get to play in the barn, in the creek, in the woods. Claudia and I get to sit in the grass, wondering if we'll have ticks after all this, while the babies free range and graze and trade sippy cups. It's really nice, and hopefully as we gather people, we'll find others who would enjoy coming to our place for Sunday Supper. Door's open, come on over!
We tried the VTC today. Wow. Yes. Tiny. Five people, including the pastor. But the pastor is good. He's wise, but not haughty. He's slightly grizzled, but not in a David Allen Coe sort of way. Good stuff. Everybody made a point of reminding us that they've all done their toddler-time in the pews, and they remember what it's like. One or two parishoners also mentioned that it's great stuff... in retrospect. Everybody was glad to have the children there. The pastor pointed out a room at the back of the sanctuary and said that they'd be happy to start up a children's Sunday School program if we would like. The boys liked it pretty well, although there was no break between Sunday School and the service, and we all could have used a little leg-stretching and a snack. The music is just as bad as it is at the VSC, but they do give it their all. I think my favorite quote from the day came from the pastor, in response to our appreciation for their patience with the children's noise. He said, "I've preached in congregations with upwards of 400 people. I can talk above anything." Gotta love a pastor who can go with the flow! Zorak wasn't feeling 100% this morning, so he stayed home to rest up a bit. I wish he could have gone with us, so we could be more certain, but I think this may be it.
Tomorrow I have to be at the oral surgeon's office at 8:30. (HOW am I supposed to get up, dressed and out the door that early without my COFFEE?!?!?) If you wouldn't mind, please say a prayer for the procedure. I'm feeling like quite the weenie at this point, and a little beat up over this whole mess. Yes, it's minor. Yes, I know, it could be far worse. That doesn't really make me feel any better, though. It only ups the weenie factor. ;-) I'm thankful, though, that Zorak will have the Small Ones. Knowing that they're with him, and all that that entails, makes it easier for me to do so many things with a calmed heart. What would I do without that man?
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Tech Stuff, General Stuff
OK, it seems there's a hitch in Blogger's comment feature that will only sometimes allow an anon comment to come through to me for moderation. If you've been leaving comments without using a Blogger ID, and they haven't been appearing, and you know that you haven't been swearing maliciously or threatening me (about the only causes I've had to call upon for comment rejection, really)... and now you're thinking I've gone off on some completely unidentifiable, arbitrary moderation system, I haven't. They just aren't coming through. I'll put in a quick question to the folks at Blogger to see if I can fix it. In the meantime, though, a quick heads up that I'm not ignoring anybody.
And just where have we been since Tuesday? Oh, we've been pretending we're a normal family. It's hard work, and leaves Zorak and I absolutely exhausted at the end of the day. The boys are working their way through some sort of tribal rite of passage thing that involves a great deal of "creative use of time". Then I'm forced to engage in the complementary rite of passage known as "running the maternal gauntlet", most commonly identified by the middle-aged woman standing on the porch, screaming into the woods, "Whoever left that THING in the sink had best get back up here and take care of it RIGHT. NOW!" But in general, I believe the New Initiates are giving a good showing, and this will be a good year for the tribe, if not for the sink.
Zorak's been running wires like a... well, like something catchy that I can't put my finger on right now. But he's been one busy man today. There's light in the basement stairwell. Light beneath the stairs, light in the "post apocalyptic storage corner" (ok, pantry) of the basement. There are functional outlets and runs of shiny conduit at appropriate intervals. It looks and functions SO much better now. I've got to say that electrical codes are far more intuitive than I'd ever given them credit for, in many respects. I love it when things that just make sense - three way switches on stairwells, illumination on every step - turn out to be within code. I know, weird thing to get all warm and fuzzy about. Still, it does make me go all warm and fuzzy to have my home eeking its way out of Full-On Condemnation Mode. Also, in spite of the rain we've had lately, we are tickled to announce that the basement only smells like an average basement right now, and is relatively dry. Exponentially more dry than last year this time. WOOHOO!
We're trying another church this Sunday. VSC isn't going to work - it turned out to be of a completely different type than we'd thought. Der, I know. It's listed wrong in the phone book, and if you don't come up to it from the main street, you never see the little sign. It was just a fluke that the Easter bulletin didn't have the affiliation written on it anywhere. Anyway, it's a delightful congregation, but the differences in beliefs between our home and the denomination are just too extreme for us to bridge the gaps. I talked with Wonderful Pastor about our situation this week. He gave me the names of two more churches to try, and said he'd look into some others that might have something in the area that we may have missed. The one we'll be visiting this week we'll call the Very Tiny Church (VTC). According to the gentleman on the phone, it's just two families. Not sure what happened, there. I guess we'll find out, though.
Other than working on the house, working on the parenting, working on the Never Ending Laundry, we've been celebrating the kick-off to Catch Up On Neglected Health Care Month. I don't think it's a National celebration, but it seems to be a big local thing, and we're knee-deep in it. That, of course, makes for hideous blogging unless you are a) morbidly interested in others' health care, b) suffering similar ailments and looking for proof that you aren't alone in the world, or c) really desperate for something to read. So, for those who know what's up with that, all is going well. And for those who don't, that's why I haven't really touched on it. Blech.
And, that's about it in a nutshell. (It was a big nut.)
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
And just where have we been since Tuesday? Oh, we've been pretending we're a normal family. It's hard work, and leaves Zorak and I absolutely exhausted at the end of the day. The boys are working their way through some sort of tribal rite of passage thing that involves a great deal of "creative use of time". Then I'm forced to engage in the complementary rite of passage known as "running the maternal gauntlet", most commonly identified by the middle-aged woman standing on the porch, screaming into the woods, "Whoever left that THING in the sink had best get back up here and take care of it RIGHT. NOW!" But in general, I believe the New Initiates are giving a good showing, and this will be a good year for the tribe, if not for the sink.
Zorak's been running wires like a... well, like something catchy that I can't put my finger on right now. But he's been one busy man today. There's light in the basement stairwell. Light beneath the stairs, light in the "post apocalyptic storage corner" (ok, pantry) of the basement. There are functional outlets and runs of shiny conduit at appropriate intervals. It looks and functions SO much better now. I've got to say that electrical codes are far more intuitive than I'd ever given them credit for, in many respects. I love it when things that just make sense - three way switches on stairwells, illumination on every step - turn out to be within code. I know, weird thing to get all warm and fuzzy about. Still, it does make me go all warm and fuzzy to have my home eeking its way out of Full-On Condemnation Mode. Also, in spite of the rain we've had lately, we are tickled to announce that the basement only smells like an average basement right now, and is relatively dry. Exponentially more dry than last year this time. WOOHOO!
We're trying another church this Sunday. VSC isn't going to work - it turned out to be of a completely different type than we'd thought. Der, I know. It's listed wrong in the phone book, and if you don't come up to it from the main street, you never see the little sign. It was just a fluke that the Easter bulletin didn't have the affiliation written on it anywhere. Anyway, it's a delightful congregation, but the differences in beliefs between our home and the denomination are just too extreme for us to bridge the gaps. I talked with Wonderful Pastor about our situation this week. He gave me the names of two more churches to try, and said he'd look into some others that might have something in the area that we may have missed. The one we'll be visiting this week we'll call the Very Tiny Church (VTC). According to the gentleman on the phone, it's just two families. Not sure what happened, there. I guess we'll find out, though.
Other than working on the house, working on the parenting, working on the Never Ending Laundry, we've been celebrating the kick-off to Catch Up On Neglected Health Care Month. I don't think it's a National celebration, but it seems to be a big local thing, and we're knee-deep in it. That, of course, makes for hideous blogging unless you are a) morbidly interested in others' health care, b) suffering similar ailments and looking for proof that you aren't alone in the world, or c) really desperate for something to read. So, for those who know what's up with that, all is going well. And for those who don't, that's why I haven't really touched on it. Blech.
And, that's about it in a nutshell. (It was a big nut.)
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Thursday, April 26
They Played!
The rain continued to come down for most of the morning. Then the clouds parted, Noah kicked the animals back off the ark, walked out onto the field himself, and determined it was a fine day for a game. So at 5:30, John's team played their first game of baseball.
We got pummeled. There was an inordinate amount of spinning and picking and leaping out there on our team's part. BUT ya know, I wouldn't trade teams for the world. The team we played against has an uber-competitive coach. They've been focused to win during all this practice time. Win. Win Big. Win Now. And the umpire (referee? the guy calling the shots) turned out to be another uber-competitive guy in the same Circle of Trust as the other team's coach, which didn't help any.
The other team scored two runs on us because of a foul ball the ref. didn't call. It was clearly foul. Our kids didn't make a play with it because they all thought it was dead. The other kids kept running (at their coaches' insistance), and the ref let the runs stand. No, that didn't sit well. But honestly, I don't think John's team would have won even with a fair call by the ref. The other team did have it together, and they played their hearts out. They did a good job, and we cheered the little guys for all their hard work.
Sure, I'd love to see our little guys win a game, but as they work toward that goal, I'm quite happy with the other things they're learning on this team. They even got it together enough in the last inning to pull off a couple of impressive plays. They cheered each other on. When all was said and done, they shook hands with the other team like champs, congratulated the team on a good win, and huddled together for the post-game pep talk. Their coach found a lot of positives to share with them, and they left on a positive note.
I think tomorrow we need to make something for the coaches. Today highlighted just how fortunate we are to have the group we do to model, guide, and in general, compliment the things Zorak and I try to teach every day. I can't say how much it means to know the boys are seeing examples outside the family of the values we hold up as Good. Yep. Good stuff.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
We got pummeled. There was an inordinate amount of spinning and picking and leaping out there on our team's part. BUT ya know, I wouldn't trade teams for the world. The team we played against has an uber-competitive coach. They've been focused to win during all this practice time. Win. Win Big. Win Now. And the umpire (referee? the guy calling the shots) turned out to be another uber-competitive guy in the same Circle of Trust as the other team's coach, which didn't help any.
The other team scored two runs on us because of a foul ball the ref. didn't call. It was clearly foul. Our kids didn't make a play with it because they all thought it was dead. The other kids kept running (at their coaches' insistance), and the ref let the runs stand. No, that didn't sit well. But honestly, I don't think John's team would have won even with a fair call by the ref. The other team did have it together, and they played their hearts out. They did a good job, and we cheered the little guys for all their hard work.
Sure, I'd love to see our little guys win a game, but as they work toward that goal, I'm quite happy with the other things they're learning on this team. They even got it together enough in the last inning to pull off a couple of impressive plays. They cheered each other on. When all was said and done, they shook hands with the other team like champs, congratulated the team on a good win, and huddled together for the post-game pep talk. Their coach found a lot of positives to share with them, and they left on a positive note.
I think tomorrow we need to make something for the coaches. Today highlighted just how fortunate we are to have the group we do to model, guide, and in general, compliment the things Zorak and I try to teach every day. I can't say how much it means to know the boys are seeing examples outside the family of the values we hold up as Good. Yep. Good stuff.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Labels:
life in the south,
littles,
occasion,
parenting
Game Day!
Current conditions as of 4:53 am CDT
Rain
Feels Like: 61°
Barometer: 29.88 in and falling
Humidity: 93%
Visibility: 5 mi
Dewpoint: 59°
Wind: SE 12 mph
Sunrise: 6:03 am
Sunset: 7:28 pm
61°High: 72° Low: 52°
Well, folks, it doesn't look like the big game is going to happen today. It's been raining all night. The field is going to be a mess. The kids are going to be so disappointed.
See the humidity? It's the South. It does that. (Even when it's not raining.) Claudia told me last night that if it gets much more humid, she's going to be homebound. I thought she meant she would be heading for the California desert, but it turns out she just meant she was going to hole up in her home with the climate control. Heh. I don't blame her.
It's seven o'clock, and the house is eerily quiet with everybody gone. No snoring. No snuffling. No shifting in the beds. I wish I was still asleep, but it's going to be a busy day!
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Rain
Feels Like: 61°
Barometer: 29.88 in and falling
Humidity: 93%
Visibility: 5 mi
Dewpoint: 59°
Wind: SE 12 mph
Sunrise: 6:03 am
Sunset: 7:28 pm
61°High: 72° Low: 52°
Well, folks, it doesn't look like the big game is going to happen today. It's been raining all night. The field is going to be a mess. The kids are going to be so disappointed.
See the humidity? It's the South. It does that. (Even when it's not raining.) Claudia told me last night that if it gets much more humid, she's going to be homebound. I thought she meant she would be heading for the California desert, but it turns out she just meant she was going to hole up in her home with the climate control. Heh. I don't blame her.
It's seven o'clock, and the house is eerily quiet with everybody gone. No snoring. No snuffling. No shifting in the beds. I wish I was still asleep, but it's going to be a busy day!
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Wednesday, April 25
*whew*
"Hi, Mrs. Dy, this is somebody from the Sparkly New Big-People's Dentist Office. I'm just calling to remind you about your root canal tomorrow at a really inconvenient time."
What? No. NO! It's next week at a really inconvenient time... isn't it? (I really hate that I can't keep these things straight.)
Turns out, it's both days, at equally inconvenient times. (Seriously, it's a root canal, how accomodating can it be?) Pick one! Weee.
All three boys got in today to see New Mr. Good Dentist. (Mr. Please-Please-Be-Good Dentist. Please.) We'll just call him MGD: the dentist, not the beer. He's wild. The office is... wild. On an intimidation factor, it rates a negative number. And he seems pretty competent. But I don't entirely trust myself on this anymore. Previous Dentist seemed that way, too, at first. Of course, all the work the boys had done by Previous Dentist has to be redone because it either a) fell out, or b) wasn't done properly and caries have developed beneath the filling. Lovely, that. *sigh* You know it's bad when MGD starts out giving you his introductory Philosophy of Non-Invasive-Techniques speech,
He also uses euphemisms which caught me a bit off guard. Like when he said, "We need to screw this one."
You what?
"Screw it. You know, p-u-l-l it o-u-t. It just sounds better."
No. It doesn't. Trust me.
Later, while explaining why he does one procedure in two visits, "It tends to cause a little b-l-e-e-d-i-n-g, so..."
Um, they're eight and six. While you *do* spell rather quickly, I'm pretty c-e-r-t-a-i-n they can s-p-e-l-l b-l-o-o-d. But you know, that's a quirk. And it's a thoughtful quirk. And I'm good with that. (Although, for the record, I don't *think* in spelled out words, so if by chance you're reading this Dr. MGD, I'm not a moron, but I honestly didn't see that coming and it took me a while to switch gears. I'd only had one large travel mug of j-a-v-a that morning.)
Tomorrow is Drag Your Spawn to Work Day at Zorak's work. He's taking the three eldest spawn. BabySpawn and I are going to have a busy, productive day, and then we'll all meet up at the secret r-o-n-d-a-y... erm, spot. (You know I'm kidding, right?) The boys were so excited (how excited were they?)
...so excited that it's a good thing I made them go to bed at seven-thirty so they could lie there and twitch for a while before getting sucked into oblivion.
...so excited that even an entire chapter in Eagle dedicated to Marcus' recovery couldn't lull them to sleep.
If they ever give in and get some rest, it should be a fun day.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
What? No. NO! It's next week at a really inconvenient time... isn't it? (I really hate that I can't keep these things straight.)
Turns out, it's both days, at equally inconvenient times. (Seriously, it's a root canal, how accomodating can it be?) Pick one! Weee.
All three boys got in today to see New Mr. Good Dentist. (Mr. Please-Please-Be-Good Dentist. Please.) We'll just call him MGD: the dentist, not the beer. He's wild. The office is... wild. On an intimidation factor, it rates a negative number. And he seems pretty competent. But I don't entirely trust myself on this anymore. Previous Dentist seemed that way, too, at first. Of course, all the work the boys had done by Previous Dentist has to be redone because it either a) fell out, or b) wasn't done properly and caries have developed beneath the filling. Lovely, that. *sigh* You know it's bad when MGD starts out giving you his introductory Philosophy of Non-Invasive-Techniques speech,
"At this age, I mostly watch this or that and see if - HOLY CRAP, we've got to get this done PRONTO!"He may not have actually said "holy crap", but then again, he may have. It was hard to follow the flow once he got excited.
He also uses euphemisms which caught me a bit off guard. Like when he said, "We need to screw this one."
You what?
"Screw it. You know, p-u-l-l it o-u-t. It just sounds better."
No. It doesn't. Trust me.
Later, while explaining why he does one procedure in two visits, "It tends to cause a little b-l-e-e-d-i-n-g, so..."
Um, they're eight and six. While you *do* spell rather quickly, I'm pretty c-e-r-t-a-i-n they can s-p-e-l-l b-l-o-o-d. But you know, that's a quirk. And it's a thoughtful quirk. And I'm good with that. (Although, for the record, I don't *think* in spelled out words, so if by chance you're reading this Dr. MGD, I'm not a moron, but I honestly didn't see that coming and it took me a while to switch gears. I'd only had one large travel mug of j-a-v-a that morning.)
Tomorrow is Drag Your Spawn to Work Day at Zorak's work. He's taking the three eldest spawn. BabySpawn and I are going to have a busy, productive day, and then we'll all meet up at the secret r-o-n-d-a-y... erm, spot. (You know I'm kidding, right?) The boys were so excited (how excited were they?)
...so excited that it's a good thing I made them go to bed at seven-thirty so they could lie there and twitch for a while before getting sucked into oblivion.
...so excited that even an entire chapter in Eagle dedicated to Marcus' recovery couldn't lull them to sleep.
If they ever give in and get some rest, it should be a fun day.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Monday, April 23
Someone's in the Kitchen With Dy, Now
Because you really needed a cheesy song stuck in your head. With the wrong lyrics, too, huh?
Well, we made it there and back again. The Suburban is now provably legal. (Is that a made up word? It feels like it.) Anyhow, I can't vouch for the pickup, but that's a whole 'nuther post.
The boys were in an awesome place today. Aside from the paperwork and organizing issues, I was in an awesome place today. It was good, all around. We needed a really good day. James got up early, so we had hot tea and played chess. Then I tried to convince him to go for a walk with me. "But MOOOOOOOOOOM, it's FREEZING out!" It is not. Let's go. "OK, let me get my winter coat out..." So, to prove that a hoodie would work just fine, we checked the weather. 64 degrees. "That's practically snowing!" I was going to clear up that little misconception, but by then Smidge and Emily were awake and in need of some snuggles, so James was spared a trek across the Tundra. :-) Funny kid.
We made a fantastic banana bread. I found the recipe at Fitness and Freebies' wheat-free recipes section. And, of course, I modified it a bit. *grin*. If you'd like to see the original, you can find that here. But here's what we did with it:
WF Banana Bread
1 c. flour blend (I use mostly garbanzo, fava, brown rice and a little white rice - just use whatever)
1/4c. teff flour (I've been slipping this into *everything* lately. It's like I've become the neighborhood grain dealer. *psst*, Kid, wanna buy some protein?)
1 1/2 tsp. baking soda
2 tsp. baking powder
1/4 tsp. salt (ok, I don't measure a quarter of a teaspoon of anything - that's officially "a sprinkle" in my kitchen)
1 packet gelatin
1/3 c. butter
1/3 c. sugar
3 egg yolks (Trust me, save the whites. They come in later, and you don't want to be staring at the trash, thinking, "Why didn't somebody tell me to reserve the whites?" I'm telling you now.)
1 tsp. vanilla (OK, I'm a bit liberal with my vanilla - I just splash it in til it looks right. Odds are good there was more than one teaspoon in this loaf.)
3/4 c. mashed banana (I used two bananas and figured they'd have to work, whether they made exactly 3/4 c. or not - turned out pretty close. I don't think this is a horribly touchy ingredient.)
1/4 c. plain yogurt (We never have plain. I always forget that I'll need it for baking. I used vanilla. You could also use sour cream. Or even buttermilk. Really, it's your bread. Have fun with it.)
3 egg whites (Preferably the ones you saved from earlier.)
Preheat your oven to 350'. Grease AND FLOUR your pan. I like rice flour. It's the least expensive of the wf options, and doesn't seem to get absorbed by the rest of the batter. Win-win, in my book.
Sift all your dry ingredients into a medium-sized bowl. (If you don't want to sift, you can dump and whisk - works equally well.)
In a large mixing bowl, cream the butter and sugar. Add eggs and continue to beat until light. (Seriously, it'll get somewhat fluffy.)
Mix in the banana and yogurt. Blend well. Add dry ingredients. Blend well (yes, again. I know.)
Now, in a small bowl, beat your egg whites until soft peaks form. This is for the texture of the loaf. Once you've got soft peaks, fold the beaten egg white gently into the batter. You don't want to mix it in too much, b/c it's the little air bubbles in the egg white that will pull mock-gluten duty and keep your bread afloat. Just fold it in. You won't end up with a weird quiche-loaf. And if you do, then tell everybody it's quiche-loaf and swear you never said a thing about banana bread. But I've done this a lot and never had to rely on that one.
Turn it all into your pan, smooth the top and pop into the oven.
Clean the kitchen, kick back, read to the kids, and in an hour you're eating delicious fresh banana bread. Tada!
My one and only gripe is that it makes just one loaf, and I've not had a whole lot of success in doubling my recipes. However, I'm going to master this one. The entire loaf is gone, except for the bits that stuck to the pan. (The original recipe says only to grease the pan, but I'd recommend slapping a little rice flour in it, too.)
On the upside, my hand-held mixer finally died today. I usually use it until it starts to emit a burning smell, then switch to the trusty wooden spoon. Today, there was no smell. Just a very loud, obvious clanging... and a slowing... of the beaters... until, finally... they stopped. As the clanging grew disturbingly loud, James looked up from his math and said, "WHAT are you making?" Heh. Yep, that's my boy. So why is that the upside? It means, WOOHOO! (singing) I can buy a mixer now! I can buy a mix-er! We need a heavy-duty one. One with a transmission in it. Yeah, baby!
Lessons, lessons, lessons. Good, good, good. Math, reading, Latin, science. Stories. Snacks. More banana bread. Play time. Errands. 'Nuggles. Laughter. Baby kisses. Toddler hugs. Big kids who still hold my hand while we walk, who still give me hugs for no reason. Even if I'm not holding baked goods. What more could I ask for from the day? Not. A. Thing. Ahhhh. Yes.
Next week looks like it'll be heavy on the doctor visits. Nobody's sick, it's just that everybody needs something at the same time. And when we must do several things at the same time, I realize there are a lot of us. I told Claudia today that I need a personal secretary. She pointed out that I'm kinda-sort Zorak's personal secretary. Oh. Wow, he's getting gypped, then, isn't he? But maybe if I can get him to promote me to "Executive Secretary", then I can start the hunt for an "Assistant Executive Secretary" for ME? Yeah? Think it'll work? Me, neither. But it's fun to pretend.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Well, we made it there and back again. The Suburban is now provably legal. (Is that a made up word? It feels like it.) Anyhow, I can't vouch for the pickup, but that's a whole 'nuther post.
The boys were in an awesome place today. Aside from the paperwork and organizing issues, I was in an awesome place today. It was good, all around. We needed a really good day. James got up early, so we had hot tea and played chess. Then I tried to convince him to go for a walk with me. "But MOOOOOOOOOOM, it's FREEZING out!" It is not. Let's go. "OK, let me get my winter coat out..." So, to prove that a hoodie would work just fine, we checked the weather. 64 degrees. "That's practically snowing!" I was going to clear up that little misconception, but by then Smidge and Emily were awake and in need of some snuggles, so James was spared a trek across the Tundra. :-) Funny kid.
We made a fantastic banana bread. I found the recipe at Fitness and Freebies' wheat-free recipes section. And, of course, I modified it a bit. *grin*. If you'd like to see the original, you can find that here. But here's what we did with it:
WF Banana Bread
1 c. flour blend (I use mostly garbanzo, fava, brown rice and a little white rice - just use whatever)
1/4c. teff flour (I've been slipping this into *everything* lately. It's like I've become the neighborhood grain dealer. *psst*, Kid, wanna buy some protein?)
1 1/2 tsp. baking soda
2 tsp. baking powder
1/4 tsp. salt (ok, I don't measure a quarter of a teaspoon of anything - that's officially "a sprinkle" in my kitchen)
1 packet gelatin
1/3 c. butter
1/3 c. sugar
3 egg yolks (Trust me, save the whites. They come in later, and you don't want to be staring at the trash, thinking, "Why didn't somebody tell me to reserve the whites?" I'm telling you now.)
1 tsp. vanilla (OK, I'm a bit liberal with my vanilla - I just splash it in til it looks right. Odds are good there was more than one teaspoon in this loaf.)
3/4 c. mashed banana (I used two bananas and figured they'd have to work, whether they made exactly 3/4 c. or not - turned out pretty close. I don't think this is a horribly touchy ingredient.)
1/4 c. plain yogurt (We never have plain. I always forget that I'll need it for baking. I used vanilla. You could also use sour cream. Or even buttermilk. Really, it's your bread. Have fun with it.)
3 egg whites (Preferably the ones you saved from earlier.)
Preheat your oven to 350'. Grease AND FLOUR your pan. I like rice flour. It's the least expensive of the wf options, and doesn't seem to get absorbed by the rest of the batter. Win-win, in my book.
Sift all your dry ingredients into a medium-sized bowl. (If you don't want to sift, you can dump and whisk - works equally well.)
In a large mixing bowl, cream the butter and sugar. Add eggs and continue to beat until light. (Seriously, it'll get somewhat fluffy.)
Mix in the banana and yogurt. Blend well. Add dry ingredients. Blend well (yes, again. I know.)
Now, in a small bowl, beat your egg whites until soft peaks form. This is for the texture of the loaf. Once you've got soft peaks, fold the beaten egg white gently into the batter. You don't want to mix it in too much, b/c it's the little air bubbles in the egg white that will pull mock-gluten duty and keep your bread afloat. Just fold it in. You won't end up with a weird quiche-loaf. And if you do, then tell everybody it's quiche-loaf and swear you never said a thing about banana bread. But I've done this a lot and never had to rely on that one.
Turn it all into your pan, smooth the top and pop into the oven.
Clean the kitchen, kick back, read to the kids, and in an hour you're eating delicious fresh banana bread. Tada!
My one and only gripe is that it makes just one loaf, and I've not had a whole lot of success in doubling my recipes. However, I'm going to master this one. The entire loaf is gone, except for the bits that stuck to the pan. (The original recipe says only to grease the pan, but I'd recommend slapping a little rice flour in it, too.)
On the upside, my hand-held mixer finally died today. I usually use it until it starts to emit a burning smell, then switch to the trusty wooden spoon. Today, there was no smell. Just a very loud, obvious clanging... and a slowing... of the beaters... until, finally... they stopped. As the clanging grew disturbingly loud, James looked up from his math and said, "WHAT are you making?" Heh. Yep, that's my boy. So why is that the upside? It means, WOOHOO! (singing) I can buy a mixer now! I can buy a mix-er! We need a heavy-duty one. One with a transmission in it. Yeah, baby!
Lessons, lessons, lessons. Good, good, good. Math, reading, Latin, science. Stories. Snacks. More banana bread. Play time. Errands. 'Nuggles. Laughter. Baby kisses. Toddler hugs. Big kids who still hold my hand while we walk, who still give me hugs for no reason. Even if I'm not holding baked goods. What more could I ask for from the day? Not. A. Thing. Ahhhh. Yes.
Next week looks like it'll be heavy on the doctor visits. Nobody's sick, it's just that everybody needs something at the same time. And when we must do several things at the same time, I realize there are a lot of us. I told Claudia today that I need a personal secretary. She pointed out that I'm kinda-sort Zorak's personal secretary. Oh. Wow, he's getting gypped, then, isn't he? But maybe if I can get him to promote me to "Executive Secretary", then I can start the hunt for an "Assistant Executive Secretary" for ME? Yeah? Think it'll work? Me, neither. But it's fun to pretend.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Grrrr.
Well, I guess at least they're leaving the mail box alone for now.
Things have developed a habit of not arriving at our mail box, and it's starting to torque me off a wee bit.
Anniversary or birthday cards - sucked into the abyss. Family calling to see why we didn't mention it. Hmmm, never got here. Sorry.
Our tax refund from two different states from *last year* still haven't arrived. "But it was mailed."
Our tag renewal, just called to find out where that went... "Well, it was mailed."
Add to it the arrival of the fraud form from our bank (credit card stolen last month), and yet, no replacement cards tagging along anywhere within a week's delivery of the form. All processed the same day. "Yep, we mailed it."
Gah. I'm frustrated. And now off to drive all the way into town to pick up our replacement tags because 1) they're WAY WAY past needed, and 2) "If we mail these to you and they don't arrive, you'll have to pay again" - oh, pfft. Yeah, I'd love to cough up that much money *twice* for something I cannot control. *sigh* So, we're into town. This isn't the week I really needed one. more. trip into town.
But it'll be okay. We'll get some mango juice for making squishies after ball practice. Squishies make everything better.
Dy
Things have developed a habit of not arriving at our mail box, and it's starting to torque me off a wee bit.
Anniversary or birthday cards - sucked into the abyss. Family calling to see why we didn't mention it. Hmmm, never got here. Sorry.
Our tax refund from two different states from *last year* still haven't arrived. "But it was mailed."
Our tag renewal, just called to find out where that went... "Well, it was mailed."
Add to it the arrival of the fraud form from our bank (credit card stolen last month), and yet, no replacement cards tagging along anywhere within a week's delivery of the form. All processed the same day. "Yep, we mailed it."
Gah. I'm frustrated. And now off to drive all the way into town to pick up our replacement tags because 1) they're WAY WAY past needed, and 2) "If we mail these to you and they don't arrive, you'll have to pay again" - oh, pfft. Yeah, I'd love to cough up that much money *twice* for something I cannot control. *sigh* So, we're into town. This isn't the week I really needed one. more. trip into town.
But it'll be okay. We'll get some mango juice for making squishies after ball practice. Squishies make everything better.
Dy
Sunday, April 22
I can't read that!
Tonight, the Small Ones passed out during AFV, so I told the Big Ones that if they could get ready for bed without setting off flares or fire bombs, we could huddle up in Mom and Dad's bed and read their choice of books tonight.
It worked shockingly well, and the Big Ones piled onto my bed with three books to read. I peeked over the pillows to see... Captain Boldheart (Oh, I love that one!), The Star of Christmas (OK, I can handle that one...) and --
(insert theme music from Psycho, here)
ACK! NO! NOnononononono!
The Littlest Angel!
I CAN'T READ THAT! You *know* it makes me cry. (And it does. It makes me cry every. single. time. I have never, in almost nine years, been able to read that book aloud all the way through. It has always made me cry. I always brace myself and tell myself I can do it, and then the next thing I know, there's snot flying and tears gushing and I have to call in Daddy to finish it.)
At this point, John looks over, "Oh, hey, that looks like a neat book." (Were you not listening?)
So they're in my room now, and James is reading it to John while I hole up clear across the house, with the music turned up loud, so I'm not a blubbering mess when it's my turn to read.
Maybe I should've saved this for a Works for Me Wednesday? "When you just can't do it, pawn it off on the oldest child."
Oh, it's my turn to read. And I'm pretty sure Captain Boldheart won't make me cry.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
It worked shockingly well, and the Big Ones piled onto my bed with three books to read. I peeked over the pillows to see... Captain Boldheart (Oh, I love that one!), The Star of Christmas (OK, I can handle that one...) and --
(insert theme music from Psycho, here)
ACK! NO! NOnononononono!
The Littlest Angel!
I CAN'T READ THAT! You *know* it makes me cry. (And it does. It makes me cry every. single. time. I have never, in almost nine years, been able to read that book aloud all the way through. It has always made me cry. I always brace myself and tell myself I can do it, and then the next thing I know, there's snot flying and tears gushing and I have to call in Daddy to finish it.)
At this point, John looks over, "Oh, hey, that looks like a neat book." (Were you not listening?)
So they're in my room now, and James is reading it to John while I hole up clear across the house, with the music turned up loud, so I'm not a blubbering mess when it's my turn to read.
Maybe I should've saved this for a Works for Me Wednesday? "When you just can't do it, pawn it off on the oldest child."
Oh, it's my turn to read. And I'm pretty sure Captain Boldheart won't make me cry.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Favorite Mother
I did something the other day that I thought was pretty darned cool. I don't remember what it was, now. Probably got us somewhere on time, or without hitting anything on the way. Anyhow, it was cause for celebration.
As I turned off the engine, I said, "Alright, so who's your favorite Mom?" (Yes, a loaded question. I know.)
In UNISON, my two eldest shout back,
"GRANNY!"
...uh... but she's not your mother.
"She's Dad's mom," says Thing 1.
"Yeah, that counts!" Chimes in Thing 2.
Oh. Well, that's not quite what I was looking for, but I'm sure Granny will be glad to know she's loved.
And she is. :-)
(And in the next round of voting, I did, in fact, come in a solid Second. You know, out of two...)
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
As I turned off the engine, I said, "Alright, so who's your favorite Mom?" (Yes, a loaded question. I know.)
In UNISON, my two eldest shout back,
"GRANNY!"
...uh... but she's not your mother.
"She's Dad's mom," says Thing 1.
"Yeah, that counts!" Chimes in Thing 2.
Oh. Well, that's not quite what I was looking for, but I'm sure Granny will be glad to know she's loved.
And she is. :-)
(And in the next round of voting, I did, in fact, come in a solid Second. You know, out of two...)
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Saturday, April 21
Book Update
I am still slowly making my way through Last of the Mohicans. It's enjoyable, but I've been a bit lax with my readings. First, I forgot where I put the book (right there on the bookshelf, with all the other books-to-be-read). Then Claudia mentioned something about the ending and, being the obstinate dork she is, wouldn't tell me what she meant. So I, being the obstinate dork I am, went to the back and read the last four chapters of the book, in reverse order, going far enough back in the story until I could figure out what she was talking about.
And for the first time EVER, I wish I hadn't done that.
I wish she'd have just told me what she was going to say. That wouldn't have ruined the story for me (I know, I'm weird like that. If I ask about how something ends, just tell me. If I thought I didn't want to know, I wouldn't ask. Really. And I don't blab endings to others, unless they're weird like me. I get that.) What ruined it for me was realizing I'd read too far back into the book before I clicked that what she'd meant to not tell me was right there in the last chapter... and so, I kind of ruined some of it for myself by reading too much of the end first.
But I still maintain that there's not a thing wrong with reading the last chapter. Sometimes you've just gotta.
Still reading The Innocents Abroad, and still enjoying, although only in snippets. If I try to take it in bites too large, the flavors begin to go bland, it seems.
The boys and I finished Captains Courageous tonight. The boys were taken in by the quality of Troop's character. They really liked Dan and Harve's relationship. The cook freaked them out a bit. They fell in love with Mr. Cheyne, although they didn't get to meet him until the end. Somehow, Kipling pulled his character together in a way that, although you didn't go to sea with him, you did get to know him in the end. That was fun. John really has a soft spot for Penn. James likes Long Jack. Smidge wants to know when we'll be reading Farmer Boy again.
What next? I'm not sure. Not sure at all. Right now, I have so many things I want to read with them that I find myself a bit paralyzed by indecision.
James and I have been reading Rosemary Sutcliff's Eagle of the Ninth. I'd begun this with him about two years ago, but he wasn't interested, so we laid it aside. Last year, I put it out on his "check this out" shelf, and he showed some interest, but it didn't quite hold him. This time, as a one-on-one read aloud, he's enjoying it much more.
Now I need to find something to read to John one-on-one, as he wants to have that time, but isn't quite ready to follow Sutcliff's book at the pace James needs (truly, any slower, and the book would be dull as dirt, too). Somehow, when you're six, the group read aloud just doesn't have the same sparkly glow to it that the one-on-one time together does.
Together, we are finishing up Memoria Press' Famous Men of Rome, starting Padriac Colum's The Boy Who Knew What the Birds Said (a Baldwin Project book, if anyone is interested), The Japanese Twins (another Baldwin Project book), and delving back into daily poetry (now that I've found the box with all the poetry books in it!) Oh, and Jess brought us a copy of Bennett's The Book of Virtues, which has long been a favorite onrent, erm, loan from the library.
Reading with the boys is so good for me. I know I'm mortal. I realize it's very possible my eyesight and my brain may give out before I can read all the books in the world that need readin'! I want to take one deep breath and inhale them all, but the boys, they slow me down. They still think they're immortal and that every book was written just for them. They don't want to inhale it. They want to take it apart, the way you would a big chunk of crumbly, moist cornbread, and savor each and every part of it. Truth be told, it's haarrrrrrrd to slow down. But it's good. It's really good. How many delightful meals would we miss if we swallowed them whole? And why is it that children have an easier time remembering that than adults do?
So, we'll go slow. And we won't get it all. But oh, what we do get to - it'll be wonderful!
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
And for the first time EVER, I wish I hadn't done that.
I wish she'd have just told me what she was going to say. That wouldn't have ruined the story for me (I know, I'm weird like that. If I ask about how something ends, just tell me. If I thought I didn't want to know, I wouldn't ask. Really. And I don't blab endings to others, unless they're weird like me. I get that.) What ruined it for me was realizing I'd read too far back into the book before I clicked that what she'd meant to not tell me was right there in the last chapter... and so, I kind of ruined some of it for myself by reading too much of the end first.
But I still maintain that there's not a thing wrong with reading the last chapter. Sometimes you've just gotta.
Still reading The Innocents Abroad, and still enjoying, although only in snippets. If I try to take it in bites too large, the flavors begin to go bland, it seems.
The boys and I finished Captains Courageous tonight. The boys were taken in by the quality of Troop's character. They really liked Dan and Harve's relationship. The cook freaked them out a bit. They fell in love with Mr. Cheyne, although they didn't get to meet him until the end. Somehow, Kipling pulled his character together in a way that, although you didn't go to sea with him, you did get to know him in the end. That was fun. John really has a soft spot for Penn. James likes Long Jack. Smidge wants to know when we'll be reading Farmer Boy again.
What next? I'm not sure. Not sure at all. Right now, I have so many things I want to read with them that I find myself a bit paralyzed by indecision.
James and I have been reading Rosemary Sutcliff's Eagle of the Ninth. I'd begun this with him about two years ago, but he wasn't interested, so we laid it aside. Last year, I put it out on his "check this out" shelf, and he showed some interest, but it didn't quite hold him. This time, as a one-on-one read aloud, he's enjoying it much more.
Now I need to find something to read to John one-on-one, as he wants to have that time, but isn't quite ready to follow Sutcliff's book at the pace James needs (truly, any slower, and the book would be dull as dirt, too). Somehow, when you're six, the group read aloud just doesn't have the same sparkly glow to it that the one-on-one time together does.
Together, we are finishing up Memoria Press' Famous Men of Rome, starting Padriac Colum's The Boy Who Knew What the Birds Said (a Baldwin Project book, if anyone is interested), The Japanese Twins (another Baldwin Project book), and delving back into daily poetry (now that I've found the box with all the poetry books in it!) Oh, and Jess brought us a copy of Bennett's The Book of Virtues, which has long been a favorite on
Reading with the boys is so good for me. I know I'm mortal. I realize it's very possible my eyesight and my brain may give out before I can read all the books in the world that need readin'! I want to take one deep breath and inhale them all, but the boys, they slow me down. They still think they're immortal and that every book was written just for them. They don't want to inhale it. They want to take it apart, the way you would a big chunk of crumbly, moist cornbread, and savor each and every part of it. Truth be told, it's haarrrrrrrd to slow down. But it's good. It's really good. How many delightful meals would we miss if we swallowed them whole? And why is it that children have an easier time remembering that than adults do?
So, we'll go slow. And we won't get it all. But oh, what we do get to - it'll be wonderful!
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)