This is the year I've been waiting for, folks: High School American History! And we are fortunate to live in Pennsylvania. Which means, we are but a day trip or overnight from historic sites of the earliest settlements, Native peoples, French & Indian War; all through the Revolution and early colonial life; slavery and the Civil War;and woman suffragists. Best still, I have a trustworthy car, a GPS, and a student who is eager to hit the road.
For those of you who remember, I have lamented for years HoneyGirl's distaste over my historical geekiness. No matter where we traveled or what I tried, she could never get beyond herself to embrace what happened before. But over the last few months, a light has sparked in her. She's somewhat interested in current events and politics, and has been asking lots of questions re: immigration, taxation, etc.
What did I do to fan the flame? I filled my netflix queue with every historical movie and/or history channel epidsode that I could find on any topic she was interested in. I filled a basket full of books, even some children's non-fiction, on related topics and set it in the open. I took the time to find the answers to her questions with her.
Best of all, I asked for her help in planning field trips for the coming year. Honey has never been strong in geography, so we laid out maps. We placed a yellow circumference at 150 miles; and a green at 300 miles. Then, we started plotting out potential field trips sites.
Our first trip will be the last weekend of this month, to visit George Washington's Mount Vernon. We are going to take the less congested route through PA and south, and will get a nice drive through of Gettysburg on the way. We'll be spending the afternoon in Historic Leesburg and meet some online friends to boot.
Other trips will be Valley Forge, Gettysburg, Washington, DC., Alice Paul's home in Mt Laurel, NJ, and Ellis Island. Some will be planned large scale with the co-op; some with friends, and some with just us. I love her interests and excitement in planning, for she is thinking already to the essays she might right about the trips, giving the background as well as her experience/ feelings.
I will do my best to keep you all posted. And please, do share any small gems of sites with us...we are ready to hit the road!
Saturday, July 10, 2010
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
To thine own Family Be True...
Have you ever been questioned about your parenting decisions by those who don't know you well? Of course you have, if you homeschool. Perfect strangers seem to feel justified in warning any of us about the lack of socialization and question our academic competence.
I bring this up because recently, our family has approved a choice of our soon-to-be sixteen year old that is going to most certainly stir up questions. You see, HoneyGirl has been fascinated with tattoos since she was in single digits. She's done research reports on the history of tattoo around the world for geography. She is constantly sketching tattoo artwork. She's visited studios to learn about the equipment. For a while, she was so obsessed that she planned on becoming a tattoo artist.
And since she was ten years old, she has asked to get a small tattoo of a bear paw, for our dog Bear when she turned sixteen years old. The years have moved on, and our old dog Bear struggles with arthritic hips which HoneyGirl dutifully massages each night. The time is here for us to make a real decision about this, as her 16th birthday is two months away.
King Bee and I had little to discuss, surprisingly. HOney is a girl wise beyond her years, and this tattoo is not a whim, nor meaningless to her. I'm sure I'd feel differently if she was talking about a large back piece or cobwebs across her face. But a little one-inch diameter mememto of her beloved pet is so true to her, my wild child.
The part that I am questioning, however, is how I react to those around me who are going to gasp in horror. How could we ever consider such a thing? I can hear the complaints now, about her permanantely marking her body and the long term judgment she will get for having a (insert quotation fingers) "a tattoo!"
There is a deeper issue here, which I would love to delve into with her. Those folks who are so hung up on a mark on the outside are those who are often so worried about perception. "What will people think?" is a common concern.
I love that my daughter couldn't give a hoot if someone thinks her tribute to a beloved pet is a dark mark on her character. She laughs, as one mom who scoffed at her idea a few weeks ago has a daughter who lost her virginity on the first date with a new beau. Others have teens who sneak out drinking and partying regularly.
Yet my daughter, who chooses to take part in none of that , might be judged a "bad girl" for a small tattoo?
Honey is in a way, fascinated about this. She is plannign to track reactions, and write about them from a sociological/ psychological perspective. Her knowledge of the history will give her ample background to discuss prisoner or sailor tattoos of old.
Moreover, she suspects, the issues some have come from the permanence and lack of secrecy. If there is a stigma to tattooing, you can't hide that you are willing to go against the grain when you have one. I think she may be onto something there.
It will be interesting to discuss and research.
And my decided response, "To thine own family be true." And then I'll show them our upcoming family portrait of each of us, sporting our then exposed tattoos for the camera! :)
I bring this up because recently, our family has approved a choice of our soon-to-be sixteen year old that is going to most certainly stir up questions. You see, HoneyGirl has been fascinated with tattoos since she was in single digits. She's done research reports on the history of tattoo around the world for geography. She is constantly sketching tattoo artwork. She's visited studios to learn about the equipment. For a while, she was so obsessed that she planned on becoming a tattoo artist.
And since she was ten years old, she has asked to get a small tattoo of a bear paw, for our dog Bear when she turned sixteen years old. The years have moved on, and our old dog Bear struggles with arthritic hips which HoneyGirl dutifully massages each night. The time is here for us to make a real decision about this, as her 16th birthday is two months away.
King Bee and I had little to discuss, surprisingly. HOney is a girl wise beyond her years, and this tattoo is not a whim, nor meaningless to her. I'm sure I'd feel differently if she was talking about a large back piece or cobwebs across her face. But a little one-inch diameter mememto of her beloved pet is so true to her, my wild child.
The part that I am questioning, however, is how I react to those around me who are going to gasp in horror. How could we ever consider such a thing? I can hear the complaints now, about her permanantely marking her body and the long term judgment she will get for having a (insert quotation fingers) "a tattoo!"
There is a deeper issue here, which I would love to delve into with her. Those folks who are so hung up on a mark on the outside are those who are often so worried about perception. "What will people think?" is a common concern.
I love that my daughter couldn't give a hoot if someone thinks her tribute to a beloved pet is a dark mark on her character. She laughs, as one mom who scoffed at her idea a few weeks ago has a daughter who lost her virginity on the first date with a new beau. Others have teens who sneak out drinking and partying regularly.
Yet my daughter, who chooses to take part in none of that , might be judged a "bad girl" for a small tattoo?
Honey is in a way, fascinated about this. She is plannign to track reactions, and write about them from a sociological/ psychological perspective. Her knowledge of the history will give her ample background to discuss prisoner or sailor tattoos of old.
Moreover, she suspects, the issues some have come from the permanence and lack of secrecy. If there is a stigma to tattooing, you can't hide that you are willing to go against the grain when you have one. I think she may be onto something there.
It will be interesting to discuss and research.
And my decided response, "To thine own family be true." And then I'll show them our upcoming family portrait of each of us, sporting our then exposed tattoos for the camera! :)
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
Summer Solstice Greetings!
An email from a long-time blogging friend jolted my memory earlier this week. I knew I had put blogging on the back burner, but hadn't realized I'd been so neglectful. If this was a garden, I should not be able to see for the weeds!
Life over the last months has been a bustle of activity, both real and mental. Honeygirl has slain the Jabberwocky that was freshman year, and we all did the futterwakken dance in celebration. She did quite well, and has grown so much in confidence and maturity. She's making great choices, to start training with a "Couch to 5K" program and join a Senior Girl Scout troop. She's begun really nuturing her friendships as well.
Buzz finished up his second semester at community college. He has been learning some life lessons as well, albeit the hard way. Through sheer mule-headed resistence to all suggestions, he continued on the road of "done, but not well," which unfortunately does not work with Honors Statistics. As such, he has been put on probation with the honors program and lost his scholarship until his GPA is a 3.0 again.
We've had some real glimmers of hope, however, this summer. He landed an excellent job working construction, and is pledged to pay for his next semester himself for his folly. He's been much more pleasant to me, and we've been having lots of fun conversations about all sorts of things. He's lost a lot of that antagonistic needling, and the home life is so much better for us all. We're all so happy about the changes.
I, however, have been literally all over the place. In late April, I was diagnosed with Type II diabetes. The diagnosis was certainly a wake up call, although I am quite disgusted with myself that I needed to let my health/weight go so long that it came to this. I've spent many an hour in self-loathing, at my lazy, excuse-making habits that find me 50 lbs heavier than a former athlete would like to be.
I've been really proactive making changes, first in my food choices and increasing my physical activity. I've lost 12 pounds, and I am starting to reach that point where I WANT to move and get out there! My blood sugar is under control with diet and meds, and there is great promise that with continued diligence, I won't need meds at all within a year or so.
This whole health scare, has thrown me into a mental journey of questioning. I am on the right road to getting my health back. My family life is humming more smoothly than it has in years. The co-op has teachers in place and families registered, so I have a few weeks of little piddly work before the late summer planning.
HoneyGirl took a plane ALONE to Florida to visit family friends, and has been gone sicne last Tuesday. I logged some long office days, then some much needed chore days. But there has been a lot of silence and quiet. For the first time in a long time, I have been taking the time to explore my own wishes and dreams.
I realize that Honey & I are both on similar journeys now. She is pondering and researching for her first career after homeschool, as I am considering and weighing options for myself after years of homeschooling my children.
I love the co-op, and am very good at it. But I am realizing more and more that there is no true way for it to be lucrative enough. Ideally, I could find a way to work a high paying part-time job and have Tuesdays off, and I would be in heaven. I still have a few years to find something that will be enough to fill in the financial hole left by a part-time, albeit successful, business.
A key change is that I'm ready to admit that I want/need to make real money again. The joy I would have in a real salary, to work towards paying off our mortgage and securing our retirement. It sounds so silly, but I have missed that financial pay-off all these years at home. One thing at a time...I am learning.
I suppose that is an awful lot to have kept me busy these past months. Tomorrow I head to the airport to retrieve my girl, and we have five weeks of unplanned summer ahead before we begin educating her for her sophmore year. And I plan to squeeze every last bit of fun out of it!!!!
Life over the last months has been a bustle of activity, both real and mental. Honeygirl has slain the Jabberwocky that was freshman year, and we all did the futterwakken dance in celebration. She did quite well, and has grown so much in confidence and maturity. She's making great choices, to start training with a "Couch to 5K" program and join a Senior Girl Scout troop. She's begun really nuturing her friendships as well.
Buzz finished up his second semester at community college. He has been learning some life lessons as well, albeit the hard way. Through sheer mule-headed resistence to all suggestions, he continued on the road of "done, but not well," which unfortunately does not work with Honors Statistics. As such, he has been put on probation with the honors program and lost his scholarship until his GPA is a 3.0 again.
We've had some real glimmers of hope, however, this summer. He landed an excellent job working construction, and is pledged to pay for his next semester himself for his folly. He's been much more pleasant to me, and we've been having lots of fun conversations about all sorts of things. He's lost a lot of that antagonistic needling, and the home life is so much better for us all. We're all so happy about the changes.
I, however, have been literally all over the place. In late April, I was diagnosed with Type II diabetes. The diagnosis was certainly a wake up call, although I am quite disgusted with myself that I needed to let my health/weight go so long that it came to this. I've spent many an hour in self-loathing, at my lazy, excuse-making habits that find me 50 lbs heavier than a former athlete would like to be.
I've been really proactive making changes, first in my food choices and increasing my physical activity. I've lost 12 pounds, and I am starting to reach that point where I WANT to move and get out there! My blood sugar is under control with diet and meds, and there is great promise that with continued diligence, I won't need meds at all within a year or so.
This whole health scare, has thrown me into a mental journey of questioning. I am on the right road to getting my health back. My family life is humming more smoothly than it has in years. The co-op has teachers in place and families registered, so I have a few weeks of little piddly work before the late summer planning.
HoneyGirl took a plane ALONE to Florida to visit family friends, and has been gone sicne last Tuesday. I logged some long office days, then some much needed chore days. But there has been a lot of silence and quiet. For the first time in a long time, I have been taking the time to explore my own wishes and dreams.
I realize that Honey & I are both on similar journeys now. She is pondering and researching for her first career after homeschool, as I am considering and weighing options for myself after years of homeschooling my children.
I love the co-op, and am very good at it. But I am realizing more and more that there is no true way for it to be lucrative enough. Ideally, I could find a way to work a high paying part-time job and have Tuesdays off, and I would be in heaven. I still have a few years to find something that will be enough to fill in the financial hole left by a part-time, albeit successful, business.
A key change is that I'm ready to admit that I want/need to make real money again. The joy I would have in a real salary, to work towards paying off our mortgage and securing our retirement. It sounds so silly, but I have missed that financial pay-off all these years at home. One thing at a time...I am learning.
I suppose that is an awful lot to have kept me busy these past months. Tomorrow I head to the airport to retrieve my girl, and we have five weeks of unplanned summer ahead before we begin educating her for her sophmore year. And I plan to squeeze every last bit of fun out of it!!!!
Saturday, April 10, 2010
Juxtaposition....
The second day of the IEP process was better. The psychologist is just so supportive, and gave her a wonderful pep talk before beginning again. Honey, while still uncomfotable with being so vulnerable about her disabilities, is now trusting that the trial will be worth it in the end. And so we press on, for more sessions next week. Her perserverence amazes me for one so young, as she said, "Sometimes I am just going to have to step up and take on really difficult things, because in the end I am only helping myself. "
My DH arrived home late afternoon from another stint out-of-state. It was wonderful to just sit down together over a meal and really catch up on everything. It was only the three of us, so Honey was able to share her trials of the week and have his full attention. His encouragement and praise on her hard work and attitude was exactly the prescription she needed. She hugged and kissed us both, and went off to play on her computer.
The timing was perfect as Scout flew in, wanting to talk. He and a few of his cronies have decided that they want to drop out of the honors program. "The reality is that it's just a lot of hard work and it's just bringing down our GPA's, and the professors are idiots."
Both DH and I looked at each other. It was one of those wonderful moments where we did not need to discuss our views privately before a decision. We took turns outlining all the reasons that was NOT an option. His GPA is not suffering because the course work is too great, but because doing the work is interferring with fun. Dropping out of the honors program at the community college will not reflect positively when he tries to apply to transfer schools.
DH pointed out all the ways in which his focus on poor choices (procrastinating, partying, girlfriends, and general screwing around) could have been tempered toward greater success. He countered that a bunch of his buddies were dropping out, and he wanted to hang out with them more. DH did raise his voice here, as choosing to be a follower, especially one making poor choices, is something we don't abide. "You're not going to drop out just so you have more time to play Guitar Hero with a bunch of num-nuts."
A bigger and continuing issue is his arrogance in calling all these professors idiots. He's criticized the assignemtns, the readings, the lectures, the course work, and the grading. DH pointed out that he is again transferring the same attitude that he had toward me as teacher onto them. I enjoyed the colorful imagery he provided of a bunch of self-important piss ants disrespecting someone with far more experience and education, I must say.
I pointed out that he may have no idea what he will gain from each class until years later, and that the work only becomes more challenging as he moves forward. Moreover, why does he feel entitled to have it easy? Scout was not happy, and not in full agreement of our opinions. Still, he accepted our position without further argument.
When we were again alone, my DH and I shared a wonderful moment. The juxtaposition of having one brilliantly gifted child who feel justified to squander opportunities away, and one learning challenged child who is willing to do anything to simply have the possibility of the same opportunity. After all these years, he was able to see the unfairness of it all, and understand how this truth affected all of our interactions. Years of anger and blame melted away.
And I can tell you, it felt like Christmas.
My DH arrived home late afternoon from another stint out-of-state. It was wonderful to just sit down together over a meal and really catch up on everything. It was only the three of us, so Honey was able to share her trials of the week and have his full attention. His encouragement and praise on her hard work and attitude was exactly the prescription she needed. She hugged and kissed us both, and went off to play on her computer.
The timing was perfect as Scout flew in, wanting to talk. He and a few of his cronies have decided that they want to drop out of the honors program. "The reality is that it's just a lot of hard work and it's just bringing down our GPA's, and the professors are idiots."
Both DH and I looked at each other. It was one of those wonderful moments where we did not need to discuss our views privately before a decision. We took turns outlining all the reasons that was NOT an option. His GPA is not suffering because the course work is too great, but because doing the work is interferring with fun. Dropping out of the honors program at the community college will not reflect positively when he tries to apply to transfer schools.
DH pointed out all the ways in which his focus on poor choices (procrastinating, partying, girlfriends, and general screwing around) could have been tempered toward greater success. He countered that a bunch of his buddies were dropping out, and he wanted to hang out with them more. DH did raise his voice here, as choosing to be a follower, especially one making poor choices, is something we don't abide. "You're not going to drop out just so you have more time to play Guitar Hero with a bunch of num-nuts."
A bigger and continuing issue is his arrogance in calling all these professors idiots. He's criticized the assignemtns, the readings, the lectures, the course work, and the grading. DH pointed out that he is again transferring the same attitude that he had toward me as teacher onto them. I enjoyed the colorful imagery he provided of a bunch of self-important piss ants disrespecting someone with far more experience and education, I must say.
I pointed out that he may have no idea what he will gain from each class until years later, and that the work only becomes more challenging as he moves forward. Moreover, why does he feel entitled to have it easy? Scout was not happy, and not in full agreement of our opinions. Still, he accepted our position without further argument.
When we were again alone, my DH and I shared a wonderful moment. The juxtaposition of having one brilliantly gifted child who feel justified to squander opportunities away, and one learning challenged child who is willing to do anything to simply have the possibility of the same opportunity. After all these years, he was able to see the unfairness of it all, and understand how this truth affected all of our interactions. Years of anger and blame melted away.
And I can tell you, it felt like Christmas.
Friday, April 9, 2010
"Flayed and Rawly Exposed"
The above is HoneyGirl's description of her first day of testing by the school psychologist.
We finally have decided that it is time for HoneyGirl to have an official IEP done and on record with the school district regarding her dyslexia and processing issues. It was a difficult choice, but we are looking ahead to college and have learned that there are many accomodations that can be made to help her succeed (untimed tests, typed essay exams instead of handwritten,etc.) Still, we both knew the process would not be fun.
The days leading up were very emotional for us both. Honey was going to have to fight years worth of tactics trying to mask her issues from others and suddenly be open and forthright about her challenges. More than that, she needs to fight the demons of doubt.
For somewhere deep inside, she has held this lingering fear that maybe she is just stupid. Deep-rooted, low-functioning, Forrest Gump dumb. She's never voiced this before. I claim with confidence that her fears are wrong, but the pained fear in her eyes makes me just hold her and let her cry it out. I cry too, wondering if I made a mistake in following advice to not have her IEP testing "officially" done when she was too young to understand and suffer this pain.
After a good cry, we had a good chat and dispelled a great many of her fears. We discussed cognitive processing, discerning and analytical thought and higher level ideas. We then discussed her challenges, and she was able to recognize the differences. Luckily, we know enough truly "dumb" people, and I had her laughing at the odd coincedence that most of them have dated her brother. :)
Honey went for her first session yesterday. The school psychologist is a lovely young woman with a very gentle nature. Honey tested for 3.5 hours while I sat in the hall grading papers. She had done all she could for the day, had a full on tension headache and was emotionally drained. She was tested on math skills, grammar, and reading comprehension, which she was comfortable with and expected. She was also tested on memory skills, rapid recall, and note taking. She had to write essays in a blue book, with no use of scratch paper to organize her thoughts.
As we walked down the hall to leave and I asked how she was feeling, she replied "Flayed and rawly exposed," and the tears streamed down her face. The frustration was overwhelming her. I brought her home, fed her and let her take a much needed, two-hour nap.
We chatted outside, then, and those fears again resurfaced. I admitted that I would be challenged to write an essay with no scatch paper or notes, without the computer, as would many I know. She was a bit relieved at that, but feels somewhat defeated. I do know that if I would allow it, she would quit the process right now and forget about any sort of college experience.
I, too, have all sorts of doubts. Not that she doesn't have the dyslexia that was diagnosed early on, but what if there are other sorts of issues that are also present? All these years, I could have been helping her learn about and develop for those as well. What if we discover that I have hindered her, without meaning too? I , too, feel flayed and rawly exposed as her parent/teacher.
We are going to see this through. As hard as it is to see her feel so vulnerable now, I also believe that having that accurate assessment on paper, from a professional, is going to help her more in the end by clearing up her self-doubt. Whether she chooses to go on to college or not, she will at least know that she has this done and can get any services she needs for greater success.
Keep us in your prayers these next two weeks...I think it's going to be an emotional rollercoaster.
We finally have decided that it is time for HoneyGirl to have an official IEP done and on record with the school district regarding her dyslexia and processing issues. It was a difficult choice, but we are looking ahead to college and have learned that there are many accomodations that can be made to help her succeed (untimed tests, typed essay exams instead of handwritten,etc.) Still, we both knew the process would not be fun.
The days leading up were very emotional for us both. Honey was going to have to fight years worth of tactics trying to mask her issues from others and suddenly be open and forthright about her challenges. More than that, she needs to fight the demons of doubt.
For somewhere deep inside, she has held this lingering fear that maybe she is just stupid. Deep-rooted, low-functioning, Forrest Gump dumb. She's never voiced this before. I claim with confidence that her fears are wrong, but the pained fear in her eyes makes me just hold her and let her cry it out. I cry too, wondering if I made a mistake in following advice to not have her IEP testing "officially" done when she was too young to understand and suffer this pain.
After a good cry, we had a good chat and dispelled a great many of her fears. We discussed cognitive processing, discerning and analytical thought and higher level ideas. We then discussed her challenges, and she was able to recognize the differences. Luckily, we know enough truly "dumb" people, and I had her laughing at the odd coincedence that most of them have dated her brother. :)
Honey went for her first session yesterday. The school psychologist is a lovely young woman with a very gentle nature. Honey tested for 3.5 hours while I sat in the hall grading papers. She had done all she could for the day, had a full on tension headache and was emotionally drained. She was tested on math skills, grammar, and reading comprehension, which she was comfortable with and expected. She was also tested on memory skills, rapid recall, and note taking. She had to write essays in a blue book, with no use of scratch paper to organize her thoughts.
As we walked down the hall to leave and I asked how she was feeling, she replied "Flayed and rawly exposed," and the tears streamed down her face. The frustration was overwhelming her. I brought her home, fed her and let her take a much needed, two-hour nap.
We chatted outside, then, and those fears again resurfaced. I admitted that I would be challenged to write an essay with no scatch paper or notes, without the computer, as would many I know. She was a bit relieved at that, but feels somewhat defeated. I do know that if I would allow it, she would quit the process right now and forget about any sort of college experience.
I, too, have all sorts of doubts. Not that she doesn't have the dyslexia that was diagnosed early on, but what if there are other sorts of issues that are also present? All these years, I could have been helping her learn about and develop for those as well. What if we discover that I have hindered her, without meaning too? I , too, feel flayed and rawly exposed as her parent/teacher.
We are going to see this through. As hard as it is to see her feel so vulnerable now, I also believe that having that accurate assessment on paper, from a professional, is going to help her more in the end by clearing up her self-doubt. Whether she chooses to go on to college or not, she will at least know that she has this done and can get any services she needs for greater success.
Keep us in your prayers these next two weeks...I think it's going to be an emotional rollercoaster.
Friday, April 2, 2010
Struggling with the Big Stuff...
Life has been difficult lately, and I've been pretty uncomfortable. Of course, I am one who likes to mull and maneuver to a good place instead of allowing the stream of gripes and ponderings flow like a faucet. I wasn't even sure if I was going to blog about it, but I wonder too, if some of you have been suffering discomfort over some of the same issues.
My DH truly hates his new job. We both know that he should be thankful that he was able to find one in this economy without taking a pay cut, but it is SO miserable, as the salaried employees are exploited terribly, and he is spending 12 hour days digging in ditches as a foreman. Not a good situation for a man who needs back surgery. He's looking, but the construction industry is so depressed.
In the meanwhile, he struggles through, but is in pain and grumpy. This too, gives me a bit of guilt, for while my co-op is successful, it is far from lucrative. I worry that if he is not able to find another position, I have to consider the reality that I might be forced to work full-time outside the home if his body fails.
Feeling entirely frustrated, I am doing something that I absolutely love for the first time in my life. I am VERY good at it, and the work is fulfilling. I know I now have three years to develop and branch this into something that has greater income potential, so that I can contribute more so he has more options.
The words "three years," I have also realized, can make my heart stop for a second. It hit me the other week that Reagan will be graduated in three years. This first year of high school has been true joy, and she and I are in such a great place. I am impressed with the young woman she is becoming every day. We have reached a new level of closeness, as she is at the place where she is spreading her wings but choosing to share everything with me, her closest confidant as well as mother. I am excited for her future, something she explores and wants to discuss all the time.
Yet it is a daunting task to every day take "me" out of the discussions. She speaks of careers and travel and possible relocation with such a spark in her eyes. I love that she has gained such confidence and independence. I smile and make positive suggestions, all the while holding back that little voice that wants to scream "NNNnnnooooooo! Don't leave me!!!"
I naively assumed that she would move on with her life and be near enough to visit often. I pictured helping each other in our gardens and weekend barbeques together. I forgot that while I was raising this independent young woman, she would obviously have other ideas.
But reality has a funny way of slapping me with the information that her plans and mine might not remain the same. I've realized that I, too, need to reevaluate my own plans. I need to continue giving her what she needs at this stage of her life, which is impartial support (not co-dependency!)
It's hard then, to take a deep look at your life at this stage. I'm having to step out of my wonderful comfort zone and analyze everything. I'm not liking some of the things I see in myself. I need to redirect energy into my health and hobbies and friendships. I need to seek my own joys , and give myself the skills to do so as I have taught her to do!
With all that whirling around in my head, I am more than a little impatient with, well, other people's bullshit. I'm especially struggling with a certain type of hypocrisy--and the recent flood of tactless, compassionless behavior stirred in my country. Even worse is the parroting of such hateful statements, especially regarding health care reform. Many Republican politicians are acting like tantrum throwing toddlers, and many folks I know are behaving just as childishly. (And I am a Republican , though did not vote that way in the national election)
I'm finding it hard to politely ignore such ridiculous hypocrisy any longer. Everyone of these women is a death or divorce away from needing such a program to continue their own health care. My mother lived and died this as part of the working poor that owned modest property after the divorce, and was therefore ineligible for care that would have diagnosed her easily treatable uterine cancer.
My DH truly hates his new job. We both know that he should be thankful that he was able to find one in this economy without taking a pay cut, but it is SO miserable, as the salaried employees are exploited terribly, and he is spending 12 hour days digging in ditches as a foreman. Not a good situation for a man who needs back surgery. He's looking, but the construction industry is so depressed.
In the meanwhile, he struggles through, but is in pain and grumpy. This too, gives me a bit of guilt, for while my co-op is successful, it is far from lucrative. I worry that if he is not able to find another position, I have to consider the reality that I might be forced to work full-time outside the home if his body fails.
Feeling entirely frustrated, I am doing something that I absolutely love for the first time in my life. I am VERY good at it, and the work is fulfilling. I know I now have three years to develop and branch this into something that has greater income potential, so that I can contribute more so he has more options.
The words "three years," I have also realized, can make my heart stop for a second. It hit me the other week that Reagan will be graduated in three years. This first year of high school has been true joy, and she and I are in such a great place. I am impressed with the young woman she is becoming every day. We have reached a new level of closeness, as she is at the place where she is spreading her wings but choosing to share everything with me, her closest confidant as well as mother. I am excited for her future, something she explores and wants to discuss all the time.
Yet it is a daunting task to every day take "me" out of the discussions. She speaks of careers and travel and possible relocation with such a spark in her eyes. I love that she has gained such confidence and independence. I smile and make positive suggestions, all the while holding back that little voice that wants to scream "NNNnnnooooooo! Don't leave me!!!"
I naively assumed that she would move on with her life and be near enough to visit often. I pictured helping each other in our gardens and weekend barbeques together. I forgot that while I was raising this independent young woman, she would obviously have other ideas.
But reality has a funny way of slapping me with the information that her plans and mine might not remain the same. I've realized that I, too, need to reevaluate my own plans. I need to continue giving her what she needs at this stage of her life, which is impartial support (not co-dependency!)
It's hard then, to take a deep look at your life at this stage. I'm having to step out of my wonderful comfort zone and analyze everything. I'm not liking some of the things I see in myself. I need to redirect energy into my health and hobbies and friendships. I need to seek my own joys , and give myself the skills to do so as I have taught her to do!
With all that whirling around in my head, I am more than a little impatient with, well, other people's bullshit. I'm especially struggling with a certain type of hypocrisy--and the recent flood of tactless, compassionless behavior stirred in my country. Even worse is the parroting of such hateful statements, especially regarding health care reform. Many Republican politicians are acting like tantrum throwing toddlers, and many folks I know are behaving just as childishly. (And I am a Republican , though did not vote that way in the national election)
I'm finding it hard to politely ignore such ridiculous hypocrisy any longer. Everyone of these women is a death or divorce away from needing such a program to continue their own health care. My mother lived and died this as part of the working poor that owned modest property after the divorce, and was therefore ineligible for care that would have diagnosed her easily treatable uterine cancer.
Can someone explain to me how folks can select their compassion? How can one of faith campaign for unborn children with fervor, but decide that health care for that same child, once outside the womb, is someone else's problem? How can their daily talk be peppered with references to God's intervenion to the most trivial aspects of life (Jesus had a parking spot right in front for me, answering my prayers!) yet refuse to see that for once, our government is doing something that will help people because it is the RIGHT thing to do, and maybe God had some influence in making that come to pass. (using their arguments.) 'Nuff said.
I am fully aware that with all the big stuff I am trying to figure out, I have no time for such nonsense. I only hope that I can find a way to lasso my tongue. For now, I am choosing to just walk away from those folks and focus on the positive things. I got enough right in my own house to handle !
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Surgical Schedule for Avid Bibliophile
I'm not quite sure who first said "I never met a book I didn't like," but the quote certainly speaks to my soul. Books have always been like treasured friends to me. But at some point I crossed from saving special books to rescuing anything with a binding. I was homeschooling, and somehow convinced myself that I needed to have as many tomes in my basement library that I could, if asked by the public system, become a neighborhood branch.
In the last year or so, all this book collecting has become cumbersome. There are other things we can do with the space that is much more family friendly than simply housing shelf upon shelf of seldom read books. I desparately wanted a roomy sewing/craft space and a place where my teens can entertain friends.
I was emotionally ready to purge last spring, or so I thought. I realized we were talking well over three thousand books when I stopped taking a tally. The first go round was simple, really, as I had so many books that I had never liked enough to read or continue reading in the first place. I readily gathered up around a thousand and hauled them in multiple trips to donation that summer.
Over the fall, I tried at various points to gather up at least a box load a month, but I had lost my steam. It was easy for me to procrastinate, as I couldn't begin setting up my sewing area until the boys moved out their dust covered weight set. As the months went by, I began to waver in my commitment to trim the shelves. I made great use of Paperback. swap, but realize this is only trading books-not purging.
But in the last month, the boys have gotten moving. The weights were out. My DH broke down his former office, and the desk went up to Scout's bedroom (much more suitable for a college student). Before I knew it I was able to set up a sewing table and parts of my craft storage. King Bee moved his drafting table out, and is working on the weekends to sort and purge the remaining belongings of his office so that I can move in my remaining items: curriculum and books to keep.
Accepting that this purging is more than an ethereal dream has given me a feeling similar to when I've faced surgery. I know that it is something that must be done, but I am dreading it. I spent ten minutes looking at the various shelves before heading upstairs to the least traumatic of literary categories: the cookbooks. (I purged 34 and can now fit my bread machine in their former shelf space, thank you very much)
This is more than just getting rid of a lot of tomes that collect dust with fervor. There are memories tied up in my connections with certain stories. There are certain authors whose entire collection line my shelves, even if I have only read half. I've got two shelves of beautiful, leather bound Harvard classics editions of titles you couldn't pay me to stomach again, but that I couldn't resist at a used book sale .
I realized that I need to step back and analyze my relationship with books as a whole, and in parts. There are many facets to my addiction, I think. I can readily admit to my admiration of a shelf lined with gilt-paged tomes. Libraries have always been one of my favorite places. We were quite poor and faced many struggles after my father left us. But when I spent time surrounded by books, I always felt better. And though I might not ever read many of those books again, being surrounded by them has given me comfort.
As a young family, books were one of the few luxuries we could afford, especially at yard-sale prices. I hoped to instill a love of reading in my children. Having overflowing shelves helped do that, for a time. I am thrilled that they grew to love our storytime, but my children have never developed an attachment to more than a select crate-full each.
I will always enjoy the literary trips books provide me. I cannot afford to travel through place as my mind fancies, nor can I travel through time. Yet with books, I can do both, and often. I will continue forever to be an avid reader, but I need to develop a new attitude about my need to keep every book, as if it were a photograph. I have begun keeping a book journal, which seems to help greatly with this issue.
I am scheduling my next biblio-surgical procedure then, going through the four eight-foot bookcases filled with children's books. The goal is to selective reduce the collection into one bookcase. There are some that hold too many memories, some that are antiques, and some classics that I will use again and again in my teaching. I will certainly keep those that I dream of sharing with grandchildren one day!
The second bibli-otomy will defintiely be the wall shelves filled with all those classics of mine. I will never read "Old Man and the Sea" or "Rime of the Ancient Mariner" or "Grapes of Wrath"again. I don't need to keep every translation of "The Iliad" ever produced. I can purge those, as well as a huge stack of Thackeray, Bronte, and Austen. I know that if I ever have the need for them again, I can easily hop in the car to a library anywhere.
I am hoping that by the time these two areas are complete, I will have gotten addicted to the process as a middle-aged Hollywood Starlet becomes addicted to plastic surgery. That is when I will face the biggest procedure, the curricu-lotomy. This is one huge cabinet and two other shelves of items related to homeschooling.
I have admited before that I have suffered from the "Field of Dreams" philosophy toward curriculum---"If I buy it, they will learn." I don't recommend it. I've gained little more than full shelves, empty coffers, and frustrated kids! I sold off a lot of elementary items at a local curriculum sale two years ago and made a nice penny. This June, I shall do that same with what remains. By this point, I am fairly certain on what will and won't work with Honey, and what items I might use for any classes I teach. I certainly won't mind turning those items into cash again this June.
At the end, I hope to have a lovely sewing area, pared down shelves, and an awesome media room for Honey to enjoy throughout high school. And quite possibly, a whole lot of real memories created with the folks who come to craft and share movies with us!
In the last year or so, all this book collecting has become cumbersome. There are other things we can do with the space that is much more family friendly than simply housing shelf upon shelf of seldom read books. I desparately wanted a roomy sewing/craft space and a place where my teens can entertain friends.
I was emotionally ready to purge last spring, or so I thought. I realized we were talking well over three thousand books when I stopped taking a tally. The first go round was simple, really, as I had so many books that I had never liked enough to read or continue reading in the first place. I readily gathered up around a thousand and hauled them in multiple trips to donation that summer.
Over the fall, I tried at various points to gather up at least a box load a month, but I had lost my steam. It was easy for me to procrastinate, as I couldn't begin setting up my sewing area until the boys moved out their dust covered weight set. As the months went by, I began to waver in my commitment to trim the shelves. I made great use of Paperback. swap, but realize this is only trading books-not purging.
But in the last month, the boys have gotten moving. The weights were out. My DH broke down his former office, and the desk went up to Scout's bedroom (much more suitable for a college student). Before I knew it I was able to set up a sewing table and parts of my craft storage. King Bee moved his drafting table out, and is working on the weekends to sort and purge the remaining belongings of his office so that I can move in my remaining items: curriculum and books to keep.
Accepting that this purging is more than an ethereal dream has given me a feeling similar to when I've faced surgery. I know that it is something that must be done, but I am dreading it. I spent ten minutes looking at the various shelves before heading upstairs to the least traumatic of literary categories: the cookbooks. (I purged 34 and can now fit my bread machine in their former shelf space, thank you very much)
This is more than just getting rid of a lot of tomes that collect dust with fervor. There are memories tied up in my connections with certain stories. There are certain authors whose entire collection line my shelves, even if I have only read half. I've got two shelves of beautiful, leather bound Harvard classics editions of titles you couldn't pay me to stomach again, but that I couldn't resist at a used book sale .
I realized that I need to step back and analyze my relationship with books as a whole, and in parts. There are many facets to my addiction, I think. I can readily admit to my admiration of a shelf lined with gilt-paged tomes. Libraries have always been one of my favorite places. We were quite poor and faced many struggles after my father left us. But when I spent time surrounded by books, I always felt better. And though I might not ever read many of those books again, being surrounded by them has given me comfort.
As a young family, books were one of the few luxuries we could afford, especially at yard-sale prices. I hoped to instill a love of reading in my children. Having overflowing shelves helped do that, for a time. I am thrilled that they grew to love our storytime, but my children have never developed an attachment to more than a select crate-full each.
I will always enjoy the literary trips books provide me. I cannot afford to travel through place as my mind fancies, nor can I travel through time. Yet with books, I can do both, and often. I will continue forever to be an avid reader, but I need to develop a new attitude about my need to keep every book, as if it were a photograph. I have begun keeping a book journal, which seems to help greatly with this issue.
I am scheduling my next biblio-surgical procedure then, going through the four eight-foot bookcases filled with children's books. The goal is to selective reduce the collection into one bookcase. There are some that hold too many memories, some that are antiques, and some classics that I will use again and again in my teaching. I will certainly keep those that I dream of sharing with grandchildren one day!
The second bibli-otomy will defintiely be the wall shelves filled with all those classics of mine. I will never read "Old Man and the Sea" or "Rime of the Ancient Mariner" or "Grapes of Wrath"again. I don't need to keep every translation of "The Iliad" ever produced. I can purge those, as well as a huge stack of Thackeray, Bronte, and
I am hoping that by the time these two areas are complete, I will have gotten addicted to the process as a middle-aged Hollywood Starlet becomes addicted to plastic surgery. That is when I will face the biggest procedure, the curricu-lotomy. This is one huge cabinet and two other shelves of items related to homeschooling.
I have admited before that I have suffered from the "Field of Dreams" philosophy toward curriculum---"If I buy it, they will learn." I don't recommend it. I've gained little more than full shelves, empty coffers, and frustrated kids! I sold off a lot of elementary items at a local curriculum sale two years ago and made a nice penny. This June, I shall do that same with what remains. By this point, I am fairly certain on what will and won't work with Honey, and what items I might use for any classes I teach. I certainly won't mind turning those items into cash again this June.
At the end, I hope to have a lovely sewing area, pared down shelves, and an awesome media room for Honey to enjoy throughout high school. And quite possibly, a whole lot of real memories created with the folks who come to craft and share movies with us!
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Classical Mythology
I love mythology. From the time I heard my very first myth, I was hooked. I read every book on myths that our little neighborhood library had. I asked for others as gifts when all my friends were begging for Candie's shoes and Bonne Bell lip smackers. My very first elective in college was "Classical Mythology", taught by a professor from Athens!
Of course I knew as soon as I agreed to teach a high school class in Ancient World Studies, I was going to do my very best to ignite a passion in my students for the myths I hold so dearly. I designed the class as an English driven history study. I abhor textbooks, on the whole, but realize that the students needs some point of reference. I wanted to allow them to opportunity to research and write a great deal about topics that interest them within the historical context, and then teach each other.
That self-driven framework, loosely based around the book "A Short History of the World" by Alex Woolf, was an ideal fit to focus much of my instruction on writing skills and projects. I allowed the students to use the timeline as their guide, and let them run with their interests. It's been need to see the diversity of essay topics as we progress through ancient time.
It has also given me a great opportunity to share mythology of many ancient cultures. The kids were ripe for it! We explored the myths of ancient Egypt and Babylon. We did a great exercise to compare/contract the flood story in the Epic of Gilgamesh to the biblical story of the Great Flood found in Genesis. As we progressed through time, we focused not only on the historical event, but the common themes of the mythology of the culture we were studying.
I was thrilled that by the time we reached ancient greece, the class was as excited to learn about the classical myths as I was to teach them. They voted early on to take on extra reading at home to prepare for the National Mythology Exam at the end of this month. Sponsored by the American Classical League, we started with their recommended books "DAulaire's book of Greek Myths," and "Myths of Greece and Rome" by Guerber, but moved quickly to the more age appropriate offerings by Edith Hamilton and some online sources.
THe kids passion has been exciting as a teacher. Each week, they have not only done their additional work, but they clamour through the class so that we can have some time to play "Myth-ardy" (based on Jeopardy). We had a day of myth telling, where the students took the role of story teller to share a myth with the class. They've written and researched essays on various gods. They jumped into the Percy Jackson and the Olympians series, and are sharing books constantly.
***I read them all myself, and highly recommend them. They are quite entertaining, at an easy reading level, but give the reader a wonderful introduction to the myths, their major and minor players. These are not brain twinkies--all fluff and no substance. It liken them to chocolate zucchini cupcakes...the kids are still getting some veggies they can't even taste mixed in with the sweetness!
This week was the kicker, though. We were beginning the Iliad by Homer. There are so many translations of this masterful work. I know many opt for one of the narrative choices, but I am a purest. Homer wrote an epic poem, and the best way to experience the Iliad is by reading the poetic version. I chose Lombardo's translation, but worried when many of the kids came in groaning (A four hundred page poem!!!!) . This is a class of 13-15 year olds, and I worried that they may balk under the challenge.
I introduced the book, the historical context leading up to the story, and then asked them to listen. I read Chapter One aloud in class, dramatically. After twenty minutes, they were hooked!
For the next month, we will be analyzing and discussing it each week as they read through, culminating in the end with a few written essay response questions. Their enthusiasm has certainly made this my favorite class to teach!
Of course I knew as soon as I agreed to teach a high school class in Ancient World Studies, I was going to do my very best to ignite a passion in my students for the myths I hold so dearly. I designed the class as an English driven history study. I abhor textbooks, on the whole, but realize that the students needs some point of reference. I wanted to allow them to opportunity to research and write a great deal about topics that interest them within the historical context, and then teach each other.
That self-driven framework, loosely based around the book "A Short History of the World" by Alex Woolf, was an ideal fit to focus much of my instruction on writing skills and projects. I allowed the students to use the timeline as their guide, and let them run with their interests. It's been need to see the diversity of essay topics as we progress through ancient time.
It has also given me a great opportunity to share mythology of many ancient cultures. The kids were ripe for it! We explored the myths of ancient Egypt and Babylon. We did a great exercise to compare/contract the flood story in the Epic of Gilgamesh to the biblical story of the Great Flood found in Genesis. As we progressed through time, we focused not only on the historical event, but the common themes of the mythology of the culture we were studying.
I was thrilled that by the time we reached ancient greece, the class was as excited to learn about the classical myths as I was to teach them. They voted early on to take on extra reading at home to prepare for the National Mythology Exam at the end of this month. Sponsored by the American Classical League, we started with their recommended books "DAulaire's book of Greek Myths," and "Myths of Greece and Rome" by Guerber, but moved quickly to the more age appropriate offerings by Edith Hamilton and some online sources.
THe kids passion has been exciting as a teacher. Each week, they have not only done their additional work, but they clamour through the class so that we can have some time to play "Myth-ardy" (based on Jeopardy). We had a day of myth telling, where the students took the role of story teller to share a myth with the class. They've written and researched essays on various gods. They jumped into the Percy Jackson and the Olympians series, and are sharing books constantly.
***I read them all myself, and highly recommend them. They are quite entertaining, at an easy reading level, but give the reader a wonderful introduction to the myths, their major and minor players. These are not brain twinkies--all fluff and no substance. It liken them to chocolate zucchini cupcakes...the kids are still getting some veggies they can't even taste mixed in with the sweetness!
This week was the kicker, though. We were beginning the Iliad by Homer. There are so many translations of this masterful work. I know many opt for one of the narrative choices, but I am a purest. Homer wrote an epic poem, and the best way to experience the Iliad is by reading the poetic version. I chose Lombardo's translation, but worried when many of the kids came in groaning (A four hundred page poem!!!!) . This is a class of 13-15 year olds, and I worried that they may balk under the challenge.
I introduced the book, the historical context leading up to the story, and then asked them to listen. I read Chapter One aloud in class, dramatically. After twenty minutes, they were hooked!
For the next month, we will be analyzing and discussing it each week as they read through, culminating in the end with a few written essay response questions. Their enthusiasm has certainly made this my favorite class to teach!
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
A Horrible Confession....
I had one of those days yesterday. It started at 10pm the night before, when Honey suddenly came down with the flu. I held her hair while she hugged the porcelain god all through the night.
When her torment ceased and she snuggled into bed, it was already 4:30am. Not worth lying down for a half hour nap, I jumped in the shower hoping to revive myself.
For co-op is on Tuesdays, and this week had the additional stress of a staff meeting with teachers who have signed on for next year. I did the best I could to address the way in the which the co-op functions, their responsibilities and the benefits. There were many questions and concerns about hte new site choice that I couldn't confidently answer yet.
I tried to explain that I created the schedule with great care and consideration to a myriad of factors, but it seems that sixteen folks all want to teach from 10-11,m and there are only 10 classrooms at that time. Dandy.
Of course, it wasn't just the teachers with requests. All day long, every time I turned around another person wanted to ask a question or make a request. " Please make sure this class isn't opposite that class, becuase my little Susie wants to take both" is not feasible when we are talking about forty odd classes over six periods and over 100 kids. But that didn't stop the lines from forming any time I stood still. I even had people follow me into the bathroom to press their case.
Of course, I was still trying to focus on teaching my three classes and help my students, while worrying about my sick child left at home. (She obviously had the better part of the deal, as she slept peacefully all day. )
It seemed like every person there NEEDED me yesterday. Wanted my advice on student's who wouldn't work, on curriculum at home, or scout troops. I had to hear the complaint of the woman who got a parking ticket in the clearly marked 2-hour zone, and those about the less-than-stellar vacuum cleaners. I was cornered into having to tell someone that he was not going to be able to teach again as they assumed because the children are afraid of him, and every parent pulled their child from class. My head was exploding...
I got home to more drama in my email, from those who I supposed got tired waiting in the lines earlier. More parents with issues as teachers have begun addressing students who are not doing the work. Seriously? As if I bide with lazy students excuses? Not the time to talk to that mom.
I made a cup of tea and snuggled with my girl, dreaming of how it was all those years ago. When we would wake and just decide what we would do, with no obligations or homework or lesson plans to be done. No phone calls , no emails, that focus only on someone else's problems. What of those days when there was no drama but our own. I wanted to pack it up and head to Maine, and live out the rest of our days in a small house near the ocean, spending our afternoons collecting sea glass and photographing sunsets. Sigh!
Of course I know that this was just one of those days. I love the co-op with my heart, and love the people there. I even enjoy the administrative work, most of the time. But good Lord, I am getting so crabby when the phone rings right now.
My daughter thinks that I am too warm and friendly and capable, and that unfortunately means that anyone with a problem thinks I just want to solve it for them. Maybe she is right. I normally love encouraging others. I think I need to get a shirt made..."Do not approach with problems until I am properly rested."
Maybe I can hide from the phone today....and get back to sleep!
When her torment ceased and she snuggled into bed, it was already 4:30am. Not worth lying down for a half hour nap, I jumped in the shower hoping to revive myself.
For co-op is on Tuesdays, and this week had the additional stress of a staff meeting with teachers who have signed on for next year. I did the best I could to address the way in the which the co-op functions, their responsibilities and the benefits. There were many questions and concerns about hte new site choice that I couldn't confidently answer yet.
I tried to explain that I created the schedule with great care and consideration to a myriad of factors, but it seems that sixteen folks all want to teach from 10-11,m and there are only 10 classrooms at that time. Dandy.
Of course, it wasn't just the teachers with requests. All day long, every time I turned around another person wanted to ask a question or make a request. " Please make sure this class isn't opposite that class, becuase my little Susie wants to take both" is not feasible when we are talking about forty odd classes over six periods and over 100 kids. But that didn't stop the lines from forming any time I stood still. I even had people follow me into the bathroom to press their case.
Of course, I was still trying to focus on teaching my three classes and help my students, while worrying about my sick child left at home. (She obviously had the better part of the deal, as she slept peacefully all day. )
It seemed like every person there NEEDED me yesterday. Wanted my advice on student's who wouldn't work, on curriculum at home, or scout troops. I had to hear the complaint of the woman who got a parking ticket in the clearly marked 2-hour zone, and those about the less-than-stellar vacuum cleaners. I was cornered into having to tell someone that he was not going to be able to teach again as they assumed because the children are afraid of him, and every parent pulled their child from class. My head was exploding...
I got home to more drama in my email, from those who I supposed got tired waiting in the lines earlier. More parents with issues as teachers have begun addressing students who are not doing the work. Seriously? As if I bide with lazy students excuses? Not the time to talk to that mom.
I made a cup of tea and snuggled with my girl, dreaming of how it was all those years ago. When we would wake and just decide what we would do, with no obligations or homework or lesson plans to be done. No phone calls , no emails, that focus only on someone else's problems. What of those days when there was no drama but our own. I wanted to pack it up and head to Maine, and live out the rest of our days in a small house near the ocean, spending our afternoons collecting sea glass and photographing sunsets. Sigh!
Of course I know that this was just one of those days. I love the co-op with my heart, and love the people there. I even enjoy the administrative work, most of the time. But good Lord, I am getting so crabby when the phone rings right now.
My daughter thinks that I am too warm and friendly and capable, and that unfortunately means that anyone with a problem thinks I just want to solve it for them. Maybe she is right. I normally love encouraging others. I think I need to get a shirt made..."Do not approach with problems until I am properly rested."
Maybe I can hide from the phone today....and get back to sleep!
Friday, January 29, 2010
Julie/Julia and Authenticity....
HoneyGirl spent another afternoon trudging away at her "damned" paper (yes, I am letting her refer to it in jus that way, poor dear!), but with an attitude of anticipation. The boys were heading off to Philadelphia to see a hockey game, and we knew we had the house to ourselves. And we had exactly the same plan: chick flicks!
We have been saving Julie/Julia for such an occasion. Reagan has recently begun to identify to actual actors/actresses in films that are over the age of 20. Meryl Streep is one of her new favs, although I am not certain Streep would be thrilled to know that she is referred to as "that clever , older lady who can play any part." Actually, she might just get a kick out of that!
We have both fallen in love with Julia Child. What a dynamic and fun woman she was! Her story was quite amazing, really, when one realizes that she only learned to cook at 37-years young. How encouraging to all of us who have yet to find/ embrace our true passions in careers?
Honey was however, quite annoyed with Julie Powell's character. Her self-centeredness and whiny weakness seemed in such stark contrast to Julia's overflowing confidence. Her obsession was just at the borderline between sane and looney. And her husband was, much to his disagreement, a saint to go along with the project. I can't even get mine to eat orange vegetables, let alone a year of french cuisine!
Of course, I saw this as a perfect teachable moment. Wasn't that contrast the crux of the story? Julie's weakness was exactly why Julia became such a focus for her, and a catalyst for change and self-evaluation. Her frustration and tantrums didn't negate the amazing commitment and perserverence she showed by actually meeting the year-long challenge.
I also reminded Honey that this was Hollywood. We went online and found some of the actual blog posts from the Julie/Julia project, and I came away with a much different feel. Powell was witty, and honest, and swore unabashedly. And I know that I would have , had I known it at the time, been a devoted reader.
Honey did as Honey does, took it all in to ponder. I am sure she will be sharing some wonderful insight in the coming days. We both decided that we need to add "Mastering the Art of French Cooking" to our shelf and try a few of the recipes ourselves when we do cooking next year. I can imagine us having a blast deboning a duck.
I received a lot more from the movie than a few hours of entertainments and a craving for french onion soup. What I got most from both women was a true reminder of the importance of authenticity.
I have been recently overwhelmed with issues surrounding this in attempting to write this book about homeschooling. I will let myself tell a story of our lives that illustrates a key concept, yet I hesitate and second guess when I proof read. HOw will I be pereceived by my reader?
Am I comfortable sharing those moments when I was a raging three-headed dragon and swore at my lolly-gagging kids? Will anyone believe those truly amazing moments of affirmation that came from my then 13-year old's mouth? Will my perceptions in applying psychological models to homeschooling types be embraced and pondered, or just fodder for criticism from my peers?
Will anyone at all get anything of value out of this endeavor, or will I just be pereceived as another homeschooling blow hard, albeit one who is more likely to swear like a sailor when frustrated than pray a rosary?
Authenticity reminds me that I just can't be worried about all of that. I need to remember that I have morphed into a fire-breathing dragon at times. I've been vulnerable, fun-loving, strong, tender, inspired, and demanding in turn. And lest I forget opinionated.
But that is authentic. That is the real me. And authentic is the only way I can even consider facing this project. I'm in my forties, and I just have to be comfortable with the fact that even if those who take a look into the inside of my home and disagree with my thoughts or methods, I cannot let them ever question my truth.
Thank you Julie and Julia!
We have been saving Julie/Julia for such an occasion. Reagan has recently begun to identify to actual actors/actresses in films that are over the age of 20. Meryl Streep is one of her new favs, although I am not certain Streep would be thrilled to know that she is referred to as "that clever , older lady who can play any part." Actually, she might just get a kick out of that!
We have both fallen in love with Julia Child. What a dynamic and fun woman she was! Her story was quite amazing, really, when one realizes that she only learned to cook at 37-years young. How encouraging to all of us who have yet to find/ embrace our true passions in careers?
Honey was however, quite annoyed with Julie Powell's character. Her self-centeredness and whiny weakness seemed in such stark contrast to Julia's overflowing confidence. Her obsession was just at the borderline between sane and looney. And her husband was, much to his disagreement, a saint to go along with the project. I can't even get mine to eat orange vegetables, let alone a year of french cuisine!
Of course, I saw this as a perfect teachable moment. Wasn't that contrast the crux of the story? Julie's weakness was exactly why Julia became such a focus for her, and a catalyst for change and self-evaluation. Her frustration and tantrums didn't negate the amazing commitment and perserverence she showed by actually meeting the year-long challenge.
I also reminded Honey that this was Hollywood. We went online and found some of the actual blog posts from the Julie/Julia project, and I came away with a much different feel. Powell was witty, and honest, and swore unabashedly. And I know that I would have , had I known it at the time, been a devoted reader.
Honey did as Honey does, took it all in to ponder. I am sure she will be sharing some wonderful insight in the coming days. We both decided that we need to add "Mastering the Art of French Cooking" to our shelf and try a few of the recipes ourselves when we do cooking next year. I can imagine us having a blast deboning a duck.
I received a lot more from the movie than a few hours of entertainments and a craving for french onion soup. What I got most from both women was a true reminder of the importance of authenticity.
I have been recently overwhelmed with issues surrounding this in attempting to write this book about homeschooling. I will let myself tell a story of our lives that illustrates a key concept, yet I hesitate and second guess when I proof read. HOw will I be pereceived by my reader?
Am I comfortable sharing those moments when I was a raging three-headed dragon and swore at my lolly-gagging kids? Will anyone believe those truly amazing moments of affirmation that came from my then 13-year old's mouth? Will my perceptions in applying psychological models to homeschooling types be embraced and pondered, or just fodder for criticism from my peers?
Will anyone at all get anything of value out of this endeavor, or will I just be pereceived as another homeschooling blow hard, albeit one who is more likely to swear like a sailor when frustrated than pray a rosary?
Authenticity reminds me that I just can't be worried about all of that. I need to remember that I have morphed into a fire-breathing dragon at times. I've been vulnerable, fun-loving, strong, tender, inspired, and demanding in turn. And lest I forget opinionated.
But that is authentic. That is the real me. And authentic is the only way I can even consider facing this project. I'm in my forties, and I just have to be comfortable with the fact that even if those who take a look into the inside of my home and disagree with my thoughts or methods, I cannot let them ever question my truth.
Thank you Julie and Julia!
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Rising to Challenges
We are at the beginning of what we like to call a "challenge week" in our homeschool hive. HoneyGirl has two major assignments due at co-op next Tuesday: a 15 pg research report and an instructional speech for her public speaking class. Both fall into the challenging department as dyslexia makes the first process more time consuming, and a nervous personality makes the second daunting.
She's been working on her paper, "Art in Ancient China" for three weeks, doing research, outline, and a progressive bibliography. Last week, she began writing using her note cards and a timeline of the Chinese dynasties. Unfortunately, neither of us thought how her tracking issues would later affect her ability to find the points in which to insert additional data. She's been labouring in three hour stints, until her dyslexia headaches become so bad that she needs to lie down.
My mothering instincts are conflicting with her need to create her own success. It would be very easy for me to sit down and just let her narrate ideas, and we could be finished in an hour. I could tell her she didn't need to worry about a single other thing. But she is deeply committed to academic independence. She will work as long as she can until the headaches begin, and will allow me to find the spot she lists in the paper online, then she will sit to insert more data. In and out of the chair I go, keenly aware of her struggle and pride.
She will be putting in extra hours for the next five days, for once the paper is done she will begin preparing the speech. She did agree to the sense of doing the speech on the same topic, as it lessons her time researching. She still has algebra, German to do daily as well, though she wisely worked ahead in science and journalism to have a break this week. We have already planned a vacation day on Wednesday, to spend as she pleases!
My heart aches at the seeming unfairness of it. She is so focused and works so much harder than many of her peers. Yet the product, while solid, does not show such extra-ordinary effort. It is frustrating for her to listen to classmates discuss doing projects the night before, when she has had to budget and allot hours to the same task. While she understands that dyslexia causes her to learn/process differently, the knowing does not remove the frustration.
We have decided, finally, to begin the process to seek out a dyslexia specialist. When she was younger, our district mandates were strict and time consuming and would have inhibited our homeschooling lifestyle greatly. It was much simpler for me to learn the techniques and tutor her at home. We have had amazing success, but now that we have reached the secondary level we know there are areas where she can't compensate enough.
She needs untimed tests. She cannot take lecture notes quickly enough. She has tracking issues that make reading online a challenge. She needs the option to type essay tests, as her handwriting, while much neater, is laboriously slow. She is reading and comprehending at the high school level, but again, more slowly than her peers.
A formal diagnosis, however, will open her up for additional services to address her dyslexia in all these areas. I've spoken to a few college professors who have shared that her needs are really minimal accomodations these days, and they would love to have more students with her tenacity and willingness to learn. She is already ahead of the game as her disability has forced her to develop great time-management and planning skills.
Does anyone else have any experience with this? I have learned enough to go OUTside what the school offers and seek a private analysis. Any advice would be helpful....
She's been working on her paper, "Art in Ancient China" for three weeks, doing research, outline, and a progressive bibliography. Last week, she began writing using her note cards and a timeline of the Chinese dynasties. Unfortunately, neither of us thought how her tracking issues would later affect her ability to find the points in which to insert additional data. She's been labouring in three hour stints, until her dyslexia headaches become so bad that she needs to lie down.
My mothering instincts are conflicting with her need to create her own success. It would be very easy for me to sit down and just let her narrate ideas, and we could be finished in an hour. I could tell her she didn't need to worry about a single other thing. But she is deeply committed to academic independence. She will work as long as she can until the headaches begin, and will allow me to find the spot she lists in the paper online, then she will sit to insert more data. In and out of the chair I go, keenly aware of her struggle and pride.
She will be putting in extra hours for the next five days, for once the paper is done she will begin preparing the speech. She did agree to the sense of doing the speech on the same topic, as it lessons her time researching. She still has algebra, German to do daily as well, though she wisely worked ahead in science and journalism to have a break this week. We have already planned a vacation day on Wednesday, to spend as she pleases!
My heart aches at the seeming unfairness of it. She is so focused and works so much harder than many of her peers. Yet the product, while solid, does not show such extra-ordinary effort. It is frustrating for her to listen to classmates discuss doing projects the night before, when she has had to budget and allot hours to the same task. While she understands that dyslexia causes her to learn/process differently, the knowing does not remove the frustration.
We have decided, finally, to begin the process to seek out a dyslexia specialist. When she was younger, our district mandates were strict and time consuming and would have inhibited our homeschooling lifestyle greatly. It was much simpler for me to learn the techniques and tutor her at home. We have had amazing success, but now that we have reached the secondary level we know there are areas where she can't compensate enough.
She needs untimed tests. She cannot take lecture notes quickly enough. She has tracking issues that make reading online a challenge. She needs the option to type essay tests, as her handwriting, while much neater, is laboriously slow. She is reading and comprehending at the high school level, but again, more slowly than her peers.
A formal diagnosis, however, will open her up for additional services to address her dyslexia in all these areas. I've spoken to a few college professors who have shared that her needs are really minimal accomodations these days, and they would love to have more students with her tenacity and willingness to learn. She is already ahead of the game as her disability has forced her to develop great time-management and planning skills.
Does anyone else have any experience with this? I have learned enough to go OUTside what the school offers and seek a private analysis. Any advice would be helpful....
Friday, January 22, 2010
Why do I Homeschool? Freedom !
I've been spending a great deal of my early morning free time working on my book about homeschooling. I received an "intested, show us more" letter from a publisher in early January after reading some of my samples. I'm trying to keep things in perspective, knowing that tons of authors probably receive similar letters that produce little other than the few more chapters they write. Even still, it is serving as the swift kick in the butt that I need to finish it!
Life, however, is never neat and tidy. While I am diligently trying to add to the page count, it is the time again for my asst. director and I to secure our teachers for next year's classes. Those classes, are the reflection of parent polling and a developing three-year rotation of classes (to ensure variety for our families). Every year, a few folks need to step back due to lifestyle changes, etc. , so the process to replace them with someone who specializes in whatever field and who is willing to volunteer their teaching requires sending out lots of feelers through the homeschooling community. It's the only time of the year where I've been approaching my monthly usage on my cell phone.
As if that wasn't enough, I have been forced to search out a new site for our co-op. The current site is trying to dole out its' third rate increase, which is equivalent to 17% hike. Obviously they don't realize that dozens of churches have realized what a benefit a group like ours would be, filling an empty building one day a week and writing them hefty checks to fill their coffers. It is a bummer to move, but I see a never-ending pattern of greed here that doesn't respect the concept of a co-op in the least. While finding a new home won't be a problem, it still takes lots of time for visits and negotiations. I have then make decisions with the board, and notify teachers and families of our final decision. Meetings, meetings, and more meetings.
That, however, is only the adminstrative end. I am still teaching three classes, with all the lesson planning and grading that entails. We are preparing for the National Mythology Exam, which has been great fun, but also additional work. Each class is working on research reports, and most of my students have opted to create coordinating displays for our Educational Fairs on February, 19th. (Oh...I chair that as well...:)
All the while, I still need to be a present and available homeschooling mom for HoneyGirl.
I come back then, to the freedom homeschooling offers us. I truly do not have the time to develop or even search out quality lessons in sociology, english or journalism at this time. And her education will not be any worse if we take a month off from those subjects.
Honey has definitely become self-directed in a few subjects, just taking the lead in math and science, as she has curriculums that work well for her via computer. She, too ,is prepping for the myth exam and working on a research report, which requires little from me at this stage. We are still getting together daily for German, as we both know that a month off is not an option with a foreign language.
Surely, I am type-A enough that I could force myself to plan for those three paused subjects. We could spend a spare two hours a day plodding through lessons with little energy or enjoyment. We could get them done, but there would be little quality in the learning.
Instead, we are able to spend that time together snuggling under blankets and watching movies, or reading by the fire, or playing card games. Honey and King Bee have been helping out around the house, and we've all been laughing more than usual, given my added work.
Homeschooling gives me the freedom to remain happy and human.
I'll post when there is time, which might not be for a while! Miss you all!
Life, however, is never neat and tidy. While I am diligently trying to add to the page count, it is the time again for my asst. director and I to secure our teachers for next year's classes. Those classes, are the reflection of parent polling and a developing three-year rotation of classes (to ensure variety for our families). Every year, a few folks need to step back due to lifestyle changes, etc. , so the process to replace them with someone who specializes in whatever field and who is willing to volunteer their teaching requires sending out lots of feelers through the homeschooling community. It's the only time of the year where I've been approaching my monthly usage on my cell phone.
As if that wasn't enough, I have been forced to search out a new site for our co-op. The current site is trying to dole out its' third rate increase, which is equivalent to 17% hike. Obviously they don't realize that dozens of churches have realized what a benefit a group like ours would be, filling an empty building one day a week and writing them hefty checks to fill their coffers. It is a bummer to move, but I see a never-ending pattern of greed here that doesn't respect the concept of a co-op in the least. While finding a new home won't be a problem, it still takes lots of time for visits and negotiations. I have then make decisions with the board, and notify teachers and families of our final decision. Meetings, meetings, and more meetings.
That, however, is only the adminstrative end. I am still teaching three classes, with all the lesson planning and grading that entails. We are preparing for the National Mythology Exam, which has been great fun, but also additional work. Each class is working on research reports, and most of my students have opted to create coordinating displays for our Educational Fairs on February, 19th. (Oh...I chair that as well...:)
All the while, I still need to be a present and available homeschooling mom for HoneyGirl.
I come back then, to the freedom homeschooling offers us. I truly do not have the time to develop or even search out quality lessons in sociology, english or journalism at this time. And her education will not be any worse if we take a month off from those subjects.
Honey has definitely become self-directed in a few subjects, just taking the lead in math and science, as she has curriculums that work well for her via computer. She, too ,is prepping for the myth exam and working on a research report, which requires little from me at this stage. We are still getting together daily for German, as we both know that a month off is not an option with a foreign language.
Surely, I am type-A enough that I could force myself to plan for those three paused subjects. We could spend a spare two hours a day plodding through lessons with little energy or enjoyment. We could get them done, but there would be little quality in the learning.
Instead, we are able to spend that time together snuggling under blankets and watching movies, or reading by the fire, or playing card games. Honey and King Bee have been helping out around the house, and we've all been laughing more than usual, given my added work.
Homeschooling gives me the freedom to remain happy and human.
I'll post when there is time, which might not be for a while! Miss you all!
Thursday, January 14, 2010
There Will Be Holes....
A huge concern for many considering homeschooling is that they will leave "holes" in their children's education. It surprises many when I heartily agree. Advice seekers often panic when I do so, and start to rethink their ability to meet the task. I always ask them to think back on their own education, and remind them how little they can recall. That's when every one takes a deep breath and smiles.
The truth is there will always be holes, whether your schooling be the most expensive private academy or the public school around the corner. Homeschoolers might miss concepts more easily, depending on their style, surely. But even the most diligent and organized planners (me) will be humbled when the next hole appears in the front lawn of their child's education .
Take, for instance, a recent conversation with Honey Girl. She was discussing her future, stating when she is older, she has a strong desire to have only one natural child. She wants to adopt any other children, "from a third world country, like Toledo."
"Toledo, Ohio?" I queried.
"No, Toledo, Mexico," she answered in a questioning voice.
Time to pull out the map.
As this conversation comes after a few others showing similar confusion, the sink hole has surfaced in our homeschool. It is quite apparent that she has maintained nothing from the United States geography we did in 4th grade. For whatever reason, she didn't connect to the material at that time. She loves world geography and has a fairly good working knowledge through self-designed course she did last year after an introductory course she took at co-op the year before. But still, there is this hole about her own country.
This hole doesn't concern me, because we've faced lots of them before. Holes are opportunities in our home. After some good-natured ribbing, Honey asked me to get her some materials or even a workbook so she can teach herself. I had a few things on hand, and she picked an elementary level workbook and a notebooking source, and wishes to combine them.
I am sure a few wondered why I would let my freshmen use an elementary source. I find that when letting my kids fill their own holes, the best option is to let them choose the material. Her level of knowledge on the subject is at that level. Her goal is to use the workbook for a jump start to help her organize her study (it divides the regions nicely) and then use the notebooking materials to expand the topic as far as she wishes.
What matters more than the materials she uses is the level of self-motivation. She doesn't like having this hole, now that it is recognized. She is eager to filled herself with information because geography interests her. She requested a large wall map. She mentioned books and travel videos, and hinted at road trips. There is no timetable other than her own desire.
Sometimes, holes are the blessings in disguise!
The truth is there will always be holes, whether your schooling be the most expensive private academy or the public school around the corner. Homeschoolers might miss concepts more easily, depending on their style, surely. But even the most diligent and organized planners (me) will be humbled when the next hole appears in the front lawn of their child's education .
Take, for instance, a recent conversation with Honey Girl. She was discussing her future, stating when she is older, she has a strong desire to have only one natural child. She wants to adopt any other children, "from a third world country, like Toledo."
"Toledo, Ohio?" I queried.
"No, Toledo, Mexico," she answered in a questioning voice.
Time to pull out the map.
As this conversation comes after a few others showing similar confusion, the sink hole has surfaced in our homeschool. It is quite apparent that she has maintained nothing from the United States geography we did in 4th grade. For whatever reason, she didn't connect to the material at that time. She loves world geography and has a fairly good working knowledge through self-designed course she did last year after an introductory course she took at co-op the year before. But still, there is this hole about her own country.
This hole doesn't concern me, because we've faced lots of them before. Holes are opportunities in our home. After some good-natured ribbing, Honey asked me to get her some materials or even a workbook so she can teach herself. I had a few things on hand, and she picked an elementary level workbook and a notebooking source, and wishes to combine them.
I am sure a few wondered why I would let my freshmen use an elementary source. I find that when letting my kids fill their own holes, the best option is to let them choose the material. Her level of knowledge on the subject is at that level. Her goal is to use the workbook for a jump start to help her organize her study (it divides the regions nicely) and then use the notebooking materials to expand the topic as far as she wishes.
What matters more than the materials she uses is the level of self-motivation. She doesn't like having this hole, now that it is recognized. She is eager to filled herself with information because geography interests her. She requested a large wall map. She mentioned books and travel videos, and hinted at road trips. There is no timetable other than her own desire.
Sometimes, holes are the blessings in disguise!
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
Much joy this Epiphany
Greetings this new year everyone!
These last two weeks have been both busy and relaxed, if that makes sense. My husband's new company shuts down for two weeks during the holidays, which totally changed the household dynamic for a bit. Buzz's first semester at college ended so he was now home all day as well.
Suddenly we had a full household 24-7, and we really made an effort of work on reconnecting as a family. It has been a challenging semester for us all, with KingBee working out of town most weeks, me working every weekend, Honey's long illness and Buzz's movement toward independence. We weren't really connecting anymore. Anticipating this, I had invested in a stack of new board games and DVDs. There were wrapped and under the tree, with little tags "Open me on Dec 22nd". There were lots of afternoons where we simply lit a fire, opened the new game and played, or popped a big batch of popcorn and watched a DVD.
We celebrated HoneyGirl's success, as despite all the weeks of illness, she managed straight "A"'s in her classes at co-op and at home in her first semester of high school. She was so happy having us all home together, and we all realized how hard it has been on her this year. She is at such a tough age for a young teen, worrying about friends, the future, and of course, her health. Still, she persevered and managed to do so well.
I was also off from work, following surgery, and had planned some really great meals. HoneyGirl and I spent a lot of time in the kitchen, laughing while preparing them. We baked 37 dozen cookies over two days, having realized too late that I had doubled the recipes that I had already rewritten on the recipe cards as double batches last year :) . It worked out fine, as HoneyGirl was then able to gift a lot of cookies to her aunts and uncles at the mandatory holiday Christmas Eve party.
The Christmas Eve party is a story in itself. Have any of you seen "Four Christmases?" It seems my husband has a family right out of the script. We have had a traditional Italian New Year's at one of his family's homes every year. My alcoholic born-again Christian sister in law were hosting it this year, which is always cause for concern. This woman chastises everyone with Scripture after downing a daily fifth of vodka. Lately she has grown more inappropiate, lacking the ability to hold her impulse to grab random men (usually her brothers in law) in the crotch.
Imagine my excitement to head off to this event....yet I do give my husband one obligatory request each year , as he really enjoys seeing his brothers and nephews that live too far away to visit other times. Obviously, I felt the additional need ot protect the menfolk from this creepy old cougar. I was wrong in assumine that she was only after then, for she managed to sneak up behind me and cup both my breasts, and would not let go. Luckily, her daughter managed to pry her off me before I hit her until she was sober. And my DH finally agreed that a better idea would be to have a picnic in spring for all the family he misses, and avoid their house altogether in the future. Unbelievable!
But back to happy family time. Christmas was a happy time. Sure, there were lots of great gifts for everyone. I was surprised by the thoughtfulness of both Honey and King Bee. Honey has reached the age where giving the perfect gift is the focus of the holidays. She had search on her own and found the perfect gift for me: a sterling silver bee necklace. She got KingBee a new Harley hat to replace his sun-damaged favorite. She even found the perfect gift for Buzz, a copy of the "Tao Te Ching", after hearing him mention that he gave a speech on Taoism for a class.
KingBee wisely offered me money to pick myself a new handbag, realizing with so many varieties he had little chance of picking something I'd love. Smart man, and I have a smart new bag that I love. I thought that was it, for it was certainly enough. But, he surprised me with noise cancelling headphones and a purple IPOD nano. He knows how impossible it is for me to write and do lesson plans while he is home and the television is running in the next room. They work like a dream! Best of all, I can now stop getting up so insanely early to have a quiet house.
Yes, he managed to give me back a full night's sleep....PRICELESS!
As such, I was able to get a lot of work done over break to prepare for this semester. The added sleep improved my mood, and I was finally without that tense feeling of struggling to get everything done. I found myself laughing more, and with more energy. I did lots of little projects I had wanted to do like organize the spice cabinet onto stacked shelves and put shelving in the pantry.
King Bee has never really experienced planned down time from work like this. He enjoyed the first two days, but was quickly bored. I had a plan for that, too. A list of repairs that needed to be done around the house. He was actually thrilled, and qhistled as he went on his almost daily trip to Home Depot for materials. As such, we now have a new ceramic tile floor in the mud room, two new front porch lights installed, a new kitchen faucet, a few new curtain rods hung, a few outlets updated and a fully stacked wood pile. If it hadn't gotten so cold, he would have painted to door frames too!
King Bee, HoneyGirl and I had a lot of great times together. Buzz was off doing his thing with his girlfriend, not really interested, but that's okay. I'm just thrilled he called a truce in his wall of separation he's had all year to at least talk with Honey and I again. It was great that he sat with us , talking aobut some of the things he learned in philosphy class and some of his friends.
I didn't talk about the tension here between us this year, because it was expected and not something I really thought would change. It was just one of those phases I knew he needed to go through to declare his independence. Still , it was pretty miserable for rest of us when we couldn't even have the most basic conversations. When a simple "Hey dude, how was your day?" gets a " Will you just get off my back?" response, you stop asking completely .
It was a hard transition for him, to be fully responsible for his work and to learn to manage his time. He's been smart enough to never have to put out real effort consistently, and I could sense he struggled a bit midyear when he got wrapped up in his gaming habit and different new "activities." He's got a new girlfriend who is all the things that are important to him: friendly, pretty, and totally into him. I give him credit that he readily admits she is not very bright , but she has "hidden talents" that balance that out. (my Dh shared this conversation that I inherently knew, but certainly did not want confirmation of ! Oy veh!) I didn't press him for anything other than to be home by 11pm, as he still has a junior license. I knew he had to find his way, and as long as he wasn't trying to bring those new activities home around his sister and I to see, it was best to let him figure it out.
Academically he was seriously stressed for three weeks around finals having to try to catch up and work really hard for the first time ever then worrying if he had screwed up too much in his college algebra class that he might lose his scholarship. In the end, his writing saved him. He had a 103% in English, which compensated for the C- in math, and managed to pull a 3.06 and keep his scholarship. Three of his best friends were not so lucky, and are all on probation. He talked with me just yesterday about the mistakes he felt he made this semester, and thanked me for knowing that community college was the best transition for him. He admitted that if he had total freedom without a driving curfew or our presense, he would have easily failed out completely. He spoke of spending more time with a few kids who pulled straight "A", and joining a study group they are starting for his Honors Statistics class. He knows he came very close to screwing up his future. I'm so pleased. My boy is starting to grow up.
Our family has come back together, and we are all feeling more solid than we have in a long time. I was, however, fully aware that much of my happiness was directly linked to my having the time to be "present" with the family. I have a lot of responsibilities that I enjoy, but my part-time job at the toy store is not one of them. It morphed from a fun, twice a week gig to a 25-30 hour nightmare that kept me from my family every weekend. SO much of my free time during the week then needed to be spent tryign to play catch-up, and I had no real time to just be.
So I gave my two-week notice on MOnday. The utter relief and release from it was amazing, and I am so thrilled. I have gained 20-30 hours to do WHATEVER I WANT! If I want to read, write, hike, sew, or even clean...it is my time. You have no idea how much I am enjoying simple things like trying new and elaborate meals for dinner! Moreoever, being home on the weekends opens up all sorts of social opportunities for Honey, as she can have friends over more often and have transportation to activities on weeknights.
Much, much, much to celebrate this Epiphany!
These last two weeks have been both busy and relaxed, if that makes sense. My husband's new company shuts down for two weeks during the holidays, which totally changed the household dynamic for a bit. Buzz's first semester at college ended so he was now home all day as well.
Suddenly we had a full household 24-7, and we really made an effort of work on reconnecting as a family. It has been a challenging semester for us all, with KingBee working out of town most weeks, me working every weekend, Honey's long illness and Buzz's movement toward independence. We weren't really connecting anymore. Anticipating this, I had invested in a stack of new board games and DVDs. There were wrapped and under the tree, with little tags "Open me on Dec 22nd". There were lots of afternoons where we simply lit a fire, opened the new game and played, or popped a big batch of popcorn and watched a DVD.
We celebrated HoneyGirl's success, as despite all the weeks of illness, she managed straight "A"'s in her classes at co-op and at home in her first semester of high school. She was so happy having us all home together, and we all realized how hard it has been on her this year. She is at such a tough age for a young teen, worrying about friends, the future, and of course, her health. Still, she persevered and managed to do so well.
I was also off from work, following surgery, and had planned some really great meals. HoneyGirl and I spent a lot of time in the kitchen, laughing while preparing them. We baked 37 dozen cookies over two days, having realized too late that I had doubled the recipes that I had already rewritten on the recipe cards as double batches last year :) . It worked out fine, as HoneyGirl was then able to gift a lot of cookies to her aunts and uncles at the mandatory holiday Christmas Eve party.
The Christmas Eve party is a story in itself. Have any of you seen "Four Christmases?" It seems my husband has a family right out of the script. We have had a traditional Italian New Year's at one of his family's homes every year. My alcoholic born-again Christian sister in law were hosting it this year, which is always cause for concern. This woman chastises everyone with Scripture after downing a daily fifth of vodka. Lately she has grown more inappropiate, lacking the ability to hold her impulse to grab random men (usually her brothers in law) in the crotch.
Imagine my excitement to head off to this event....yet I do give my husband one obligatory request each year , as he really enjoys seeing his brothers and nephews that live too far away to visit other times. Obviously, I felt the additional need ot protect the menfolk from this creepy old cougar. I was wrong in assumine that she was only after then, for she managed to sneak up behind me and cup both my breasts, and would not let go. Luckily, her daughter managed to pry her off me before I hit her until she was sober. And my DH finally agreed that a better idea would be to have a picnic in spring for all the family he misses, and avoid their house altogether in the future. Unbelievable!
But back to happy family time. Christmas was a happy time. Sure, there were lots of great gifts for everyone. I was surprised by the thoughtfulness of both Honey and King Bee. Honey has reached the age where giving the perfect gift is the focus of the holidays. She had search on her own and found the perfect gift for me: a sterling silver bee necklace. She got KingBee a new Harley hat to replace his sun-damaged favorite. She even found the perfect gift for Buzz, a copy of the "Tao Te Ching", after hearing him mention that he gave a speech on Taoism for a class.
KingBee wisely offered me money to pick myself a new handbag, realizing with so many varieties he had little chance of picking something I'd love. Smart man, and I have a smart new bag that I love. I thought that was it, for it was certainly enough. But, he surprised me with noise cancelling headphones and a purple IPOD nano. He knows how impossible it is for me to write and do lesson plans while he is home and the television is running in the next room. They work like a dream! Best of all, I can now stop getting up so insanely early to have a quiet house.
Yes, he managed to give me back a full night's sleep....PRICELESS!
As such, I was able to get a lot of work done over break to prepare for this semester. The added sleep improved my mood, and I was finally without that tense feeling of struggling to get everything done. I found myself laughing more, and with more energy. I did lots of little projects I had wanted to do like organize the spice cabinet onto stacked shelves and put shelving in the pantry.
King Bee has never really experienced planned down time from work like this. He enjoyed the first two days, but was quickly bored. I had a plan for that, too. A list of repairs that needed to be done around the house. He was actually thrilled, and qhistled as he went on his almost daily trip to Home Depot for materials. As such, we now have a new ceramic tile floor in the mud room, two new front porch lights installed, a new kitchen faucet, a few new curtain rods hung, a few outlets updated and a fully stacked wood pile. If it hadn't gotten so cold, he would have painted to door frames too!
King Bee, HoneyGirl and I had a lot of great times together. Buzz was off doing his thing with his girlfriend, not really interested, but that's okay. I'm just thrilled he called a truce in his wall of separation he's had all year to at least talk with Honey and I again. It was great that he sat with us , talking aobut some of the things he learned in philosphy class and some of his friends.
I didn't talk about the tension here between us this year, because it was expected and not something I really thought would change. It was just one of those phases I knew he needed to go through to declare his independence. Still , it was pretty miserable for rest of us when we couldn't even have the most basic conversations. When a simple "Hey dude, how was your day?" gets a " Will you just get off my back?" response, you stop asking completely .
It was a hard transition for him, to be fully responsible for his work and to learn to manage his time. He's been smart enough to never have to put out real effort consistently, and I could sense he struggled a bit midyear when he got wrapped up in his gaming habit and different new "activities." He's got a new girlfriend who is all the things that are important to him: friendly, pretty, and totally into him. I give him credit that he readily admits she is not very bright , but she has "hidden talents" that balance that out. (my Dh shared this conversation that I inherently knew, but certainly did not want confirmation of ! Oy veh!) I didn't press him for anything other than to be home by 11pm, as he still has a junior license. I knew he had to find his way, and as long as he wasn't trying to bring those new activities home around his sister and I to see, it was best to let him figure it out.
Academically he was seriously stressed for three weeks around finals having to try to catch up and work really hard for the first time ever then worrying if he had screwed up too much in his college algebra class that he might lose his scholarship. In the end, his writing saved him. He had a 103% in English, which compensated for the C- in math, and managed to pull a 3.06 and keep his scholarship. Three of his best friends were not so lucky, and are all on probation. He talked with me just yesterday about the mistakes he felt he made this semester, and thanked me for knowing that community college was the best transition for him. He admitted that if he had total freedom without a driving curfew or our presense, he would have easily failed out completely. He spoke of spending more time with a few kids who pulled straight "A", and joining a study group they are starting for his Honors Statistics class. He knows he came very close to screwing up his future. I'm so pleased. My boy is starting to grow up.
Our family has come back together, and we are all feeling more solid than we have in a long time. I was, however, fully aware that much of my happiness was directly linked to my having the time to be "present" with the family. I have a lot of responsibilities that I enjoy, but my part-time job at the toy store is not one of them. It morphed from a fun, twice a week gig to a 25-30 hour nightmare that kept me from my family every weekend. SO much of my free time during the week then needed to be spent tryign to play catch-up, and I had no real time to just be.
So I gave my two-week notice on MOnday. The utter relief and release from it was amazing, and I am so thrilled. I have gained 20-30 hours to do WHATEVER I WANT! If I want to read, write, hike, sew, or even clean...it is my time. You have no idea how much I am enjoying simple things like trying new and elaborate meals for dinner! Moreoever, being home on the weekends opens up all sorts of social opportunities for Honey, as she can have friends over more often and have transportation to activities on weeknights.
Much, much, much to celebrate this Epiphany!
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