I was recently at a homeschooling field trip and I noticed a couple of things. #1: There are some marked similarities among women who are with their kids most of the time. #2: There are two types of mothers, those who think they are super mom and do it all well, and those who know they aren't super moms and do everything adequately.
#1 The similarities I observed were the following. We are all so happy to be among other homeschoolers. It's like we have been without water for days and we are suddenly thrust into a room full of chilled water bottles and electrically cooled water in water coolers. We will talk to anyone who has a child in tow and looks like a mother. We are bonded by an unspoken understanding of how crazy we have chosen to be. We are all open and willing to talk about problems we are having with our homeschooled child. We are willing to admit our short comings and are hungry to hear someone say, "Oh, yeah I've been there. You will come out of this phase too."
The next similarity was our kids are extremely well behaved. In the room nearby is another field trip with public school kids. They are out of control. The faculty assigned to that group looks overwhelmed. We have 48 kids and they are quietly waiting instruction and following what they are told to do. Is it because they are homeschooled, or because the mothers in the room hold a power over these students that only a mother can hold? It's a toss up, but there is definitely a hushed awe as the mothers notice the comparison between the two groups. Maybe we are beyond crazy.
The way we dress is also similar. Most of us still care about our appearance and have not yet, ventured into the world in our pajamas, but we take a lot of short cuts. Some have their hair done nicely, but most of us have our hair twisted up in a cute clip. Our hair still looks clean and tidy, and the clip says, "Yes, I did put some effort into my hair today." But we all know it took less than 60 seconds to do this hair do. (Not counting the washing and drying which took place the night before). Everyone still wears makeup, but we have all mastered how to look like we spent sometime on our face, but we all have the knowledge that we can look "sufficiently" made up in less than 30 seconds. We all still look OK in our jeans that aren't quite "Mom" jeans, and our long t-shirts hanging stylishly out from under our Kohl's special hoodies from the jr. department, exclaim "Yes, I still care about fashion." The exact look of tiredness mixed with joy is a combination that is saved for new mothers and those of us who were crazy enough to homeschool our children.
And as for observation #2, my homeschooling buddy Kim said it best, "I want to be a super-mom, but I am more like "Just-Barely-Keeping-It-Together-Mom." I think that is exactly how we all feel, if we are smart enough to admit it.
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
What is a Phonograph?
Haley just yelled from the other room "What is a phonograph?"
I responded with, "It's another word for Record."
She of course continued the yelling and said, "What is a record?"
"Um," I yelled, "It's like a CD, but it is really big and you get sound out of it by placing a really fine needle on it and a record player spins it really fast. It's made out of vinyl and you have to be really careful not to scratch it. It's how we used to listen to music when I was a kid."
I waited for her response.Thinking that I had done a very thorough and comprehensive summary of the topic. At least warranting a resounding, "Wow mom, you know something about everything and you always explain everything so clearly!!" No response. Thinking that she must be bound and gagged in her room, I got up to check on her. She had apparently moved on to something else on her crossword puzzle. Yes, my 9 year old is working a crossword puzzle. And yes, she has already mastered the art of tuning me right out.
I responded with, "It's another word for Record."
She of course continued the yelling and said, "What is a record?"
"Um," I yelled, "It's like a CD, but it is really big and you get sound out of it by placing a really fine needle on it and a record player spins it really fast. It's made out of vinyl and you have to be really careful not to scratch it. It's how we used to listen to music when I was a kid."
I waited for her response.Thinking that I had done a very thorough and comprehensive summary of the topic. At least warranting a resounding, "Wow mom, you know something about everything and you always explain everything so clearly!!" No response. Thinking that she must be bound and gagged in her room, I got up to check on her. She had apparently moved on to something else on her crossword puzzle. Yes, my 9 year old is working a crossword puzzle. And yes, she has already mastered the art of tuning me right out.
Saturday, February 14, 2009
Three Little Ladies and a Man
I think it is important to feel needed. In my darkest moments, when I feel like my life is not worth much, I am reminded by the crashing of a plate on the floor or a call to wipe a little bottom, or that gentle (not so subtle) reminder that my husband, too, has needs that I am needed in the lives of my three little ladies and one very needy man.
The Merrick little ladies have been sick. That about encompasses the last month. Steve never gets sick. He says it's because he drinks Mona Vi and takes Airborne. I personally think it is because he doesn't interact with us in close enough proximity or for long enough periods of time. It seems that Merrick girl #1 and #3 have developed allergies too. So we went from cold to allergies which looks like a cold when you don't know you have allergies. But my good nurse practitioner friend said to try children's Zyrtec and what do you know, symptoms gone. I'm a little discouraged about the kids having allergies, because I purposely nursed for a long period of time so that the kids would not suffer with this aliment that has plagued me my whole life. So, I'm guessing nursing 14months for Haley and 22 months for Courtney were obviously not long enough to ensure they would not have allergies. Maybe if I was still nursing, we would have avoided it all together. The social and psychological implications not withstanding, it may have been a good and cost effective idea in these uncertain economic times. I can see it now, the headline will read: "Homeschooling Mom Still Nursing her Kids, Arrested for Not Leaving Her Kids Alone." (This blog really did not start out to go in this awkward direction).
We have had ear infections, runny noses, runny eyes, coughs, and fevers. And any mother reading will know that this means I have not slept through the night since this black cloud of terror (did I mention I've been watching a lot of LOST?) has settled over the house. Lack of sleep will always lead to me getting sick. When I am sick and tired the black cloud of terror looks like Casper the friendly ghost. My patience level drops significantly and my desire to wait on or care for anyone almost completely disappears. My children have learned to be pretty self sufficient during these rare moments and manage to destroy the house a little quieter and quicker than normal and feed themselves on what they find under the table. When I emerge from my dungeon of sickness, red eyed and stuffed up, it is NOT as affirming as one may think to know and be reminded that I am desperately needed in the lives of three little ladies and a man.
The Merrick little ladies have been sick. That about encompasses the last month. Steve never gets sick. He says it's because he drinks Mona Vi and takes Airborne. I personally think it is because he doesn't interact with us in close enough proximity or for long enough periods of time. It seems that Merrick girl #1 and #3 have developed allergies too. So we went from cold to allergies which looks like a cold when you don't know you have allergies. But my good nurse practitioner friend said to try children's Zyrtec and what do you know, symptoms gone. I'm a little discouraged about the kids having allergies, because I purposely nursed for a long period of time so that the kids would not suffer with this aliment that has plagued me my whole life. So, I'm guessing nursing 14months for Haley and 22 months for Courtney were obviously not long enough to ensure they would not have allergies. Maybe if I was still nursing, we would have avoided it all together. The social and psychological implications not withstanding, it may have been a good and cost effective idea in these uncertain economic times. I can see it now, the headline will read: "Homeschooling Mom Still Nursing her Kids, Arrested for Not Leaving Her Kids Alone." (This blog really did not start out to go in this awkward direction).
We have had ear infections, runny noses, runny eyes, coughs, and fevers. And any mother reading will know that this means I have not slept through the night since this black cloud of terror (did I mention I've been watching a lot of LOST?) has settled over the house. Lack of sleep will always lead to me getting sick. When I am sick and tired the black cloud of terror looks like Casper the friendly ghost. My patience level drops significantly and my desire to wait on or care for anyone almost completely disappears. My children have learned to be pretty self sufficient during these rare moments and manage to destroy the house a little quieter and quicker than normal and feed themselves on what they find under the table. When I emerge from my dungeon of sickness, red eyed and stuffed up, it is NOT as affirming as one may think to know and be reminded that I am desperately needed in the lives of three little ladies and a man.
Friday, February 13, 2009
Blame it on LOST
My favorite blogger Jodie introduced me to Lost, the series I thought would be so boring and was never interested in. The day she introduced me to that series, was during the week of my last blog. So I blame my lack of blog participation on LOST, actually on Jodie. I love how on her site she has my site bookmarked and it says, "Last Updated, 5 weeks ago." I know I'm a slacker, but now everyone that reads her stellar, always current site, knows the type of people with whom she keeps company.
I stay pretty current on my Facebook addiction. It struck me today, though, how really low my self esteem actually is. I am nervous, every time I ask someone to be my friend. It reminds me of being a kid and running excitedly up to a group playing on the playground and asking if I can play too. Then there is that brief moment of time while the kids were deciding that my dignity and playground social status were on the line. Will they let me play or will they run off because I have cooties of some sort. Now as an adult, on Facebook, these fears have turned into MUCH more mature thoughts like, "What if they don't remember me," or "What if they were so relieved to get away from me and now I have found them again," or "What if I offended this person in someway, that's why we lost touch and I just can't remember..." I am pleasantly surprised and relieved when someone accepts my friendship request. But until they do....I toss and turn. I feel like I need to send some kind of thank you response. You may have received one from me that went something like this: "Thanks for remembering me. Thanks for validating me as a person and being my friend albeit as superficial as we can get. " I actually accepted the friend request of someone who absolutely tortured me my entire 8th grade year. She made everyday 6th period art, my first year in California horrible. She teased me, laughed when her friends threatened to beat me up, and....well it was the laughing that sticks out the most to me. I was so self conscious and miserable because of her and her friends. Yet, I accepted her as a friend. I don't think we spoke once in high school, so she must not remember. I didn't feel like I could be so cruel as to reject her proposal as friend. We've all changed. We've all grown a little. And we all deserve second chances. (I will not tell you who this person is...I'm sure she doesn't read this blog.) Soapbox Diva, I'm pretty sure you could figure it out. Three Winks...you may remember my fear of this girl.
Facebook has been fun though. I've reconnected with people who have brought a lot of happiness to my life in the past. It is highly addictive and a huge time waster, but until I have more friends than my anti-social husband I will continue to request friendships from anyone who seems even a little familiar.
I stay pretty current on my Facebook addiction. It struck me today, though, how really low my self esteem actually is. I am nervous, every time I ask someone to be my friend. It reminds me of being a kid and running excitedly up to a group playing on the playground and asking if I can play too. Then there is that brief moment of time while the kids were deciding that my dignity and playground social status were on the line. Will they let me play or will they run off because I have cooties of some sort. Now as an adult, on Facebook, these fears have turned into MUCH more mature thoughts like, "What if they don't remember me," or "What if they were so relieved to get away from me and now I have found them again," or "What if I offended this person in someway, that's why we lost touch and I just can't remember..." I am pleasantly surprised and relieved when someone accepts my friendship request. But until they do....I toss and turn. I feel like I need to send some kind of thank you response. You may have received one from me that went something like this: "Thanks for remembering me. Thanks for validating me as a person and being my friend albeit as superficial as we can get. " I actually accepted the friend request of someone who absolutely tortured me my entire 8th grade year. She made everyday 6th period art, my first year in California horrible. She teased me, laughed when her friends threatened to beat me up, and....well it was the laughing that sticks out the most to me. I was so self conscious and miserable because of her and her friends. Yet, I accepted her as a friend. I don't think we spoke once in high school, so she must not remember. I didn't feel like I could be so cruel as to reject her proposal as friend. We've all changed. We've all grown a little. And we all deserve second chances. (I will not tell you who this person is...I'm sure she doesn't read this blog.) Soapbox Diva, I'm pretty sure you could figure it out. Three Winks...you may remember my fear of this girl.
Facebook has been fun though. I've reconnected with people who have brought a lot of happiness to my life in the past. It is highly addictive and a huge time waster, but until I have more friends than my anti-social husband I will continue to request friendships from anyone who seems even a little familiar.
Friday, January 2, 2009
The Dark Knight
(Warning: This is not a light hearted blog. It is an attempt to clear my brain of the mess I've made of it)
I just discovered something disturbing about myself. I suspected this might be true, but now I am certain. I recently read a book. I would rather not disclose the title, because some of you would want to read it only out of morbid curiosity. You wouldn't take my warning or read with any seriousness that it changed me for the worse. The book was the idea of my book club, which after reading this book I have decided to quit. Oprah endorsed this book, which drops her even lower on my list of people that deserve respect. The book took me about a month to read, and in that month and since then the world has seemed a little darker, colored gray by the graphic pictures my brain created because of the creative power of this writer. My brother in law read the book in 1989, and when he saw that I was reading it said the pictures came rushing back. He also says he regrets ever reading it. I hoped I could be like most and just "let it go," but alas it is not to be. The further away from reading this book I get, the more regret I feel. There is so much good to be read in this world. But I filled my mind with details about man's capacity to do evil and glean joy from it. Another fellow blogger of mine wrote about wishing she could press ctrl-alt-delete to remove some of the things she had viewed. Oh, if only we had such a group of buttons to erase that which we wish was not part of our thoughts.
Confirmation of the damage this book has done came tonight as I watched The Dark Knight. I had heard that it was a good movie, but on the dark side. Very psychologically engaging and interesting in the questions of social ethics it raises. I enjoyed the movie. I thought it was well done. But it didn't bother me at all. My personality has a really hard time with injustice. I have often joked that my need for justice will land me in an institution someday. This movie was full of injustice and I told Steve it was like "watching a cartoon," compared to the book I just finished.
Ruined. And all because I read a book that started with the author boasting..."I don't believe in God." That should have been my first clue that this was not the book for me.
I just discovered something disturbing about myself. I suspected this might be true, but now I am certain. I recently read a book. I would rather not disclose the title, because some of you would want to read it only out of morbid curiosity. You wouldn't take my warning or read with any seriousness that it changed me for the worse. The book was the idea of my book club, which after reading this book I have decided to quit. Oprah endorsed this book, which drops her even lower on my list of people that deserve respect. The book took me about a month to read, and in that month and since then the world has seemed a little darker, colored gray by the graphic pictures my brain created because of the creative power of this writer. My brother in law read the book in 1989, and when he saw that I was reading it said the pictures came rushing back. He also says he regrets ever reading it. I hoped I could be like most and just "let it go," but alas it is not to be. The further away from reading this book I get, the more regret I feel. There is so much good to be read in this world. But I filled my mind with details about man's capacity to do evil and glean joy from it. Another fellow blogger of mine wrote about wishing she could press ctrl-alt-delete to remove some of the things she had viewed. Oh, if only we had such a group of buttons to erase that which we wish was not part of our thoughts.
Confirmation of the damage this book has done came tonight as I watched The Dark Knight. I had heard that it was a good movie, but on the dark side. Very psychologically engaging and interesting in the questions of social ethics it raises. I enjoyed the movie. I thought it was well done. But it didn't bother me at all. My personality has a really hard time with injustice. I have often joked that my need for justice will land me in an institution someday. This movie was full of injustice and I told Steve it was like "watching a cartoon," compared to the book I just finished.
Ruined. And all because I read a book that started with the author boasting..."I don't believe in God." That should have been my first clue that this was not the book for me.
Two Days in a Row People!!
I am off to a very convincing start. Two days in a row, I believe is an all time record since the founding of this riveting blog.
Today I am wondering how much I need to fight my kids on what they wear. My mother told me what I was going to wear everyday, and I can vividly remember a knock down drag out fight in the 4th grade where my mom wanted me to wear a cute purple knicker/overall combination for picture day, and I wanted to wear the cute light colored pink shirt that was sure to wash me out in the picture. It didn't really matter what I wore on that day; I still had a disgustingly boyish haircut that made any outfit look suspiciously like my mother wanted a girl so badly that she was turning her little boy into a little girl. After threatening to run away and the timely arrival of the bus, my mom bitterly let me have my way and the picture came out just as my mom threatened. A toothy, short haired girl/boy? washed out because her shirt was too light. It was one of many bloody battles over clothes and I have never forgotten it. As a result, I let my kids, basically choose what they want to wear. With the exception of church on Sunday, they basically dress themselves. I figure, especially on the days we are home, let them develop their own sense of style and freedom. Believe me, I already control, what some would argue, as too much in their lives since I homeschool.
So today as I write I am watching my girls play Wii (their response to their dad and I telling them they have not exercised enough over this vacation.) Haley is actually dressed pretty well. Cute purple sweat pants and a matching purple t-shirt. Her red hair is nicely groomed and I feel like maybe she is coming out of her wacky phase. Kayci is dressed in blue sweat pants and a blue and white striped hoodie that is meant to have a tank-top of some kind under it. The plunging neck line is a little revealing. I asked her why her chest was showing and she said, "I like it." OK, I guess she'll have plenty of time to be embarrassed of her chest as she realizes she is cursed with her mom's DNA. Courtney is wearing a fuschia dress (She love Fancy Nancy), with turquoise sweat pants with a yellow stripe down the side and a striped pink white and green t-shirt/long sleeved combo over the dress. Can you picture it? If you've ever had a child or seen my children you probably can. She is so proud that she put the outfit together and her sister's are too kind-hearted to tell her that she is way off.
So I will continue to let the line out easily. Who cares if people don't think I know how to dress my kids? I KNOW how, I just choose to not fight this battle right now. Kayci knows that it is inappropriate to show that much skin in public, but while in our home, why not? Courtney is very cute in her mismatched clothes and doesn't care what other people think...yet. Far too soon, she will stop making her own choices based on what she likes and start making decisions based on what her friends are doing. Haley is almost there, as demonstrated by the fact that she is well put together this morning. I am going to just enjoy them and applaud their style. I'm sure I'll let you know when I have lost complete control, and they are all dressing like street-walkers to go to high-school. But until then...I think they are cute.
Thursday, January 1, 2009
Happy New Year!!
2009 begins today and as I look at the activity on my blog this past year I hear by resolve to do better. I'm not going to be crazy like fellow blogger Jodie, and commit to a daily update, but I think I can improve on the average 4 times a month. Like I always say, it's not for lack of anything to say that I don't write, but instead lack of mental stamina to organize my thoughts. I used to journal everyday. I can do this more than 4 times a month. I am already looking forward to February and composing my apology for this being my only post in the month of January.
Christmas was great this year. I really had a hard time in the beginning of my marriage giving up the traditions I grew up with. I thought I would never be truly happy at Christmas again. However, with my own family, and our growing traditions, I am finding that joy once again rekindled. I love how excited the kids get. I love how, even though Steve told them there was no such thing as Santa (I'm still sad about this), they still believe. Kayci even went so far as to ask me to open a Bible to John 3:16 next to the plate of milk and cookies she set up. Her specific request was something like, "Mom, could you do me and God a big favor?" Then proceeded with the specifications for placement of the Bible and to which verse it should be open. It was very cute. She set out about 8 cookies...I couldn't eat them all so I had to put them back. Is that dishonest? I did read the verse, because I can always use the reminder.
JRS and I successfully surprised my dad on his 60th birthday this year with a huge party. IT was great. He was so happy. He was so appreciative. It just felt great.
JRG was not in attendance because she was busy awaiting the birth of the 6th grandchild and 2nd boy to the mix. Blake Roger was born two days after Christmas and we are all so excited.
I asked my kids what they wanted to do differently in 2009. I told them these are called New Year's Resolutions. Maybe I didn't explain the concept well enough, but here they are. My offspring's deep seeded hopes for the New Year.
Haley's new year's resolution is to "Be happy and to have more people come to her house to play." (She turns 10 this year...I can't believe it.)
Kayci's new year's resolution is to "I don't know...do the same thing as I did last year."
Courtney's new year's resolutions is to "Play more and eat candy."
Happy New Year everyone!!
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