Ghosts of the Future

Time is free, but it's priceless. You can't own it, but you can use it. You can't keep it, but you can spend it. Once you've lost it you can never get it back. - unknown

Birthdays aren't a big deal to me, then again, they are. My own ceased to be much of an exciting thing after I hit 21... Ageism bugs me and I don't hang out with folks (or don't) because of their age, getting older isn't offputting to me-it just *is*. So, other than getting special treatment, my own birthday is rather irrelevant (I often forget how old I actually *am*, though I remember my actual birth *day*).


My children, on the other hand, have Very Important Birthdays. Not only do I love to get all excited and prepare fun stuff and wrap presents and bake cake, but I love to experience *their* enjoyment. On the other, other hand (how many are we up to, now??), my childrens' birthdays are huge milestone markers for me - moreso than my own age ever will be. When Wyl turned 5, it was "school age". When he turned 8, that was half way to driving age (thankfully, the teenage years are an odd number, so I didn't have a "half way" age for *that*). When he turned 9, that was half way to adulthood (as much as it is in this society). When he turned 10... well, that was a double-whammy: not only were we now in the double-digits, it was also half way to 20! It isn't "age" so much as time slipping away from me. Never again will I hold a little tiny spoon with a bite of rice cereal on it for him. Never again will I hold his wee chubby fingers as he takes some tremulous steps in his exploration of motivation. Never again will I toss him high over my head as he squeals with glee, joy radiating from his open, sweet face. Wait. This was supposed to be a happy post... change gears...
(Can you believe he was FOUR in this pic? It . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ..... was yet another of those ghosts-of-the-future
glimpses - this time caught in a snapshot.)


Eleven is firmly in the "tween" years - right smack in the middle. ::..Sigh.....::

Just over two weeks ago, a couple days before our birthday and Wyl's milestone Eleven birthday, we were driving home from a friend's house in the late afternoon, early evening. It was *just* that time of day when the sun is hovering low on the horizon, not *quite* into the orange of early sunset, but still golden yellow... a huge, warm glow out my passenger window, radiating life and warmth and celebration of early spring. It had been a lovely day with friends and the weather had been perfect: not too warm, not too chilly, dry and sunny with no wind. It was relatively quiet in the van - especially for *our* family - and I looked in the rear-view mirror... for what, I lost at that moment and I still don't remember. You know how sometimes, unexpectedly, you see something? Something startling that when you blink and look again or do a double-take, it isn't there any more?

That beautiful, golden sun was streaming through the windows and was striking Wyl's face in such a way that suddenly, he looked like a young adult. I could clearly see what he would look like in 7-8 years. It took my breath away and froze time for an eternity of a moment... He'll be a handsome man and have a strong jaw - there isn't anything horribly arresting about how he'll appear when he's grown. The heart-stopping shock is that he was JUST 3 a moment ago, wasn't he??

Time. Time went at such a leisurely, relaxed pace when Dave and I were just a couple. Since Wyl has come along, it has been a snowball on a steep hill, gaining speed every second. I'm not ready!! I want to cherish every moment, but there aren't enough. I want to lie with *both* boys and look at the stars right now, for decades. Can't tomorrow *wait*?? It isn't that I want to keep them little or a certain age, I just want to *savor* it. But like a 15 minute lunch break, there is barely time to chew and swallow, much less savor every tiny nuance... Shoot. Happy post. HAPPY post...

I am beyond thankful that we are who we are - I couldn't ask for better people to share my life with. We have shelter and health and food. I don't want *more*, I just want to hold what is zipping past for just a moment... to savor it... to cherish it the way it deserves to be cherished...

I have a favor to ask: stop reading my blog. Go spend some time with *your* favorite people - that's what I'm gonna do right... NOW!

Sorry, Folks!

While I figure out if I'm moving my blog or continuing here, I'm setting my comments to "approve" setting, since I am getting a hella lot of spammers here. Sorry about that! Hopefully, they'll go away and I can go back to business as usual soon.

Let the Healing Start?

To be nobody but myself -- in a world which is doing its best, night and day, to make you everybody else -- means to fight the hardest battle which any human being can fight, and never stop fighting. -E.E. Cummings, Poet (1894-1962)

It's good that tears can't be seen in the dark. It's also good that tired children aren't as perceptive in the dark when they're sleepy and thinking of other things... happy things.

Storm (who is eerily close to 5 years old, now) has amazed us with his physical abilities since... gosh, very early on. At least as far back as starting to walk, but probably further. His ability to know his body and its limits, to jump from so high with no fear and only get stinging feet... To throw a ball a surprising distance for his age (from very early on and continuing) and the accuracy he throws with.... The uncanny balance he's surprised us all with... His strength-that often rivals and sometimes overpowers Wyl, who is 5 1/2 years his senior...

His joy right now is gymnastic-type things. Jumping of all sorts; hanging, climbing and flipping over and under bars (or anything close enough to a bar to suit his need), that sort of stuff. He's been taking homeschool gymnastics classes for about a year and a half, now, at a local gym that Wyl took gymnastics at for a while. He had quit gymnastics before Storm was walking much (if at all) and was interested in trying again, but quickly lost interest. Storm loved it so much from the start that we went from one 45 minute class a week to two. And still he asked for more. When illness and travel had us missing several classes and to make them up, we ended up with *three* 45 minute classes a week, still, he asked for more. Every day he asked when he could go to gymnastics again. Sometimes, he wanted to go right back as soon as we got home. I wished I had the money to fulfill his need, but we did add some things at home (trampoline, loft bed-never would have considered *that* a climbing apparatus, but Storm saw it for that right away) that helped a wee bit.

This year, when the "school year" that the gymnastics schedule follows was over, his favorite coach, Steve, and I talked about where Storm might be placed for summer. There seems to be a big difference in class activity, skill level and length of class under 5 years and 5 years and up. Steve thought Storm could easily go to the 5 year old class, and maybe even into the 6 year olds-the big question was "listening" in the "paying attention" kind of way. I considered that he *may* be slightly bored and even that being in with older kids might help him focus better. We decided to give it a try for the summer. Private lessons were even suggested. *That* seemed like an interesting prospect, but I thought I remembered hearing they cost around $30/hour. Yikes.

With Wyl wanting to try gymnastics again, and 2 kids doing 2 classes a week, the owner gave me a break on the private lessons and kicked it down to a half hour, saving me a bit more. Storm was kind of excited about the extra time to work on more stuff that he was interested in.

Well, today was his first private lesson. There were a couple instances where his attention wandered (but really, he *is* 4! :~) ) and a few moments here and there that he fell into "play mode", but again, he amazed me with his strength. I didn't hear anything about it all day, so I asked at the end of the day as we were getting settled down for him to fall asleep.

I tried to keep it neutral, asking if he liked classes with the kids or by himself the same or if he liked one better than the other, but boy! "I like being by myself with Jake! I want to do gymnastics like that ALL the time!" :~) Oh, gosh, how I would love to do that for him, but the wallet says otherwise. I talked a bit about how Jake was trying to tell him how to hold his hands, but Storm was distracted and it was like the dawning of a Great Idea, "Ooooohhhh! Okay!!" he giggled. I suggested that he might learn more if he listened a bit closer to Jake instead of rolling around silly on the floor. He was quite excited about that and giggled again.

I started thinking about my love of singing and music and said, "Storm... Whenever you like something, I would love if you would tell me so I can help you do it as much as you want." He asked (at some point tonight) why he got those classes (or something to that effect). I told him I knew how much he liked gymnastics and that I thought he would like extra time and working on those skills he loves so much and that we'd talked about him learning more skills and being able to do more "big guy" kind of gymnastics (like we saw on the Olympics) and he *threw* himself on me and gave me a huge hug while he giggled with glee and said, "Mama I *love* you. I love you *sooooo* much!!!"

And I found out that I'm just not as big a person as all those Unschoolers I read who talk about healing by doing for their kids what they didn't get as kids. My very small self/mind/whatever immediately went to that little girl who wanted guitar lessons, piano lessons (asked for and denied, then my younger brother-who wasn't at *all* interested-got them instead), singing lessons, an electric guitar and was not only not facilitated, not supported, not helped, not given the opportunity to expand her joy, but was indeed *ridiculed* instead. And tears trickled down my face into my hair.

I kept thinking about the "healing" I've read folks talking about and I tried to turn my deep sadness into healing, but I failed. I kept thinking of what I might have done had I been supported, even who I might have been... I figure it is highly unlikely that I would be the person I am today, and I rather like who I am... but *still*... niggling doubts...

One of the most intensely "me" part of who I am is singing. I love to sing. I sing all the time. I sang to Wyl when he was a baby, a toddler, even older. I used to sing to Storm when he was a baby, but as he got into toddler-hood, he would tell me, "Stop singing, Mama." :~) I was not offended. :~) Just 2 weeks ago, he asked me to again sing, "That song about night.... with the shiny star?" And after I sang Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, he asked me to sing it again. And then, one more time. I was thrilled! And then,
"Don't sing it again, Mama." :~)
"Okay." :~)
And yet, as huge of a chunk of me as singing *is*, singing solo for people outside my immediate family (Dave, Wyl and Storm) is my biggest personal fear. Sometimes, I even fear singing where Dave can hear me. It is such a tug-of-war... this desire to share my love with everyone, and being terrified to. Terrified of rejection, of laughter, of judgement, of humiliation. Of *laughter*. Where did I ever get that idea? I can't *recall* ever having my singing laughed over. Me, yes, many times. I don't ever remember singing solo where anyone could hear me, actually. In choir, in an ensemble, yes, but of course, in group settings, one isn't singled out.

Okay. Maybe *this* is the healing part. My kids (hopefully!) will not feel that tearing of desire and fear tug-of-war. They will choose their interests based on what brings them satisfaction and happiness. Things will fall by the wayside by lack of further interest or another something that edges it out-*not* because they've been ridiculed or embarrassed into it.

Maybe. My heart *does* feel a wee less heavy. (pause, smile) Maybe I'll go sing some cheer into it. Too bad it's so late, or I could crank up the Cha-Cha Slide and dance *and* sing my heart into feather-lightness! Tomorrow, maybe... with my super-wonderful boys....

Unschooling Math!

To be nobody but myself -- in a world which is doing its best, night and day, to make you everybody else -- means to fight the hardest battle which any human being can fight, and never stop fighting. -E.E. Cummings, poet (1904-1962).

..

Have I mentioned I love Unschooling? Some days just are such an example, I kind of wish I had someone I needed to convince, since I now have "proof".
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The boys and I were at my parents' house today, having eaten then run about the yard then played with the giant frisbees with Grandaddy, they settled down a bit to more detailed activity. We were gathered on their back porch, my mother working on finishing details of the shorts she had sewn the boys, my dad and I were talking. Wyl found some small and medium boxes Grandma had sitting around for disposal and immediately set about gathering scissors, cellophane & duct tape, marker and other odds and ends from Grandma, and set about making some furniture

(disclaimer: I am obligated to tell you that this is not finished, yet!)
.................................... ........................ (vv television on side wall vv and...

and dwelling areas for his Snorlax Pokemon. Gee... I wish I'd have gotten a

picture in the afternoon sun! After the handle broke off the big pair of scissors Wyl was using, Grandma got out her small knife (Exacto knife? Stanley knife? not sure what is "common" vernacular...)

and Snorlax at fireplace following-note tiny

bit of chimney at top of picture, please vv)

(vv Displaying stairs, here vv ............ and ^^ here ^^)

and took direction from him, cutting out parts from a giant oatmeal cardboard "canister" and various boxes.

It took Storm a bit more "energy expenditure" to settle down to something more finite. With my kids, they seem to have HUGE amounts of almost-volatile energy that cannot be contained. They have an almost endless supply of this energy. It takes a *lot* of large body movement (running, jumping, climbing, trampoline), loud voices and big body gesturing (kicking, punching, arm-waving) as well as creative thinking All At The Same Time to seemingly "convert" that energy into a more channeled, finer-dexterity, precise-creative-thinking mode. And it doesn't last for long. Apparently, it builds up while they're in a "smaller movement" mode and soon they're up and off again. Even after 10 years, it is still *amazing* to me how *much* energy there is contained in such a small-ish person. I can't even imagine that much energy in an Andre the Giant-sized person!!! It seems to be many people's worth of energy. It makes me think of the big bang theory, with the big release of pent-up energy before things whirled down to a more "organized energy" kind of existence.

.

At any rate, Storm is still very much a "large energy" kind of person. He may always be... So, it took him a little while longer and a lack of another "big energy" person along side to refocus in a more finite way. As he slowed, he saw a 30' tape measure Grandad had left lying near the back porch. He started to pull the tape out to play with it when I reminded him that he should probably ask the owner of something that didn't belong to him. My dad is very particular about his tools, so I was concerned Storm would need distracted into another interesting item, and I watched as he took it over to my dad and asked if he could play with it.

.

My dad asked him what he wanted to do with it. I figured he's 4, he didn't really have a plan, but he thinks quickly and he decided he wanted to measure himself. Grandad cajoled him out of the tape measure, telling him he "couldn't" measure himself, as the tape was above his eyes and he couldn't *see* it. It almost turned into an argument, but Storm seemed to decide that he'd rather have what time he could wrangle with the tape measure rather than risk Grandaddy taking it and putting it away because Storm wouldn't "cooperate".

Grandad measured him and told him he was 46". Storm wanted to see. Grandad held out the tape and showed him where the 46 was and Storm seemed pleased with that. He suddenly decided he wanted to count it. I've heard him count to 10 and heard him try to count through the teens. Those darn "11" "12" and "13" are just out of place! They don't sound like anything else (okay, maybe thirteen... but still... three = thirt-?") and they've given both my boys trouble. But, we've not pushed or quizzed on counting and so that was the scope of my knowledge.

.

He started out at the end and began, "One. Two. Three...." all the way through ten and as usual, skipped over 11, 12, 13. So, my schooled-logical mind has assumed that because he "can't" or isn't counting 1-20 by each number in its place, that he isn't yet able to count higher than 20. Durn school-thought.

.

As I said, he skips from 10 to 14 and goes on through to 20, where I didn't think he'd go beyond. What do you know? He didn't even *pause*, "Twenty-One. Twenty-Two. Twenty-Three..." my focus sharpened. What would happen when he got to 29? Well, duh, Mama. Next is, "Thirty." I had no idea. He kept going. He got a bit stuck on 50, not knowing how to pronounce it, but seeming to know that "Five - tee" was not right. I asked if he needed a little help. "Yes, Mama, please." I told him "Fifty" and he was off for some more. He needed a bit of help on 80, then I held my breath as he got to the end of the 90's. No pause, "Ninety-nine. One hundred. One hundred One. One hundred Two...."

.

I'm astounded and holding my breath!! He got up to 109 and needed help. Grandaddy held his finger over the first one and asked what he saw and he said, "Ten" and then Grandad took his finger away and he seemed to be puzzled and Grandad started to quiz him some more, but I just said, "One hundred ten." He half-heartedly tried to go up into the mid 120's, but I could see his concentration wasn't as intense and he was pretty much done. He moved on to pulling the tape and trotting off into the yard while Grandaddy held the base and then Storm would run the tape back up to the porch while it slid inside. (That never gets old, does it? :~) )

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We hadn't found Unschooling when Wyl learned to count to 20 at 2, so there was a bit of prompting, and encouraging and some quizzing with number puzzles and magnets. Not a lot and not to the point of frustration (at least that I could tell or can remember), but it was not the Trust and Unschooling Storm has had. I didn't know he could count beyond 20 and it didn't even occur to me to wonder if he could or couldn't or if he "should" be able to. It just *Is*.

.

My kids surprise me a lot with stuff they know that I didn't know they know. It's fun and astounding to find out. "Wow, I didn't know you knew that! Where did you find that out?" Sometimes, Wyl even knows stuff I don't. When I first considered homeschooling, that concept horrified me-how could I teach someone stuff I don't know?? But now I think it is so cool! I can learn *more*! My kids, or at least *Wyl*, doesn't think it's weird or shocking that he knows something I don't-he just gives me information he has, just like Dave or I give him information we have. He doesn't have a second thought of asking questions of someone he thinks *might* have the information he seeks. I was often embarrassed or felt "little" to ask a parent and most certainly to ask a teacher in front of the whole class, something that *might* get me labeled "ignorant" for not knowing. Being laughed at for not knowing, for *having* to ask is pretty close to the (if not *the*) ultimate shame. I'm *so* glad my kids don't know what that feels like!!! They get to use *that* energy on creating Snorlax houses or counting the inches on a tape measure or bouncing on a trampoline or spinning in circles with their arms flung wide... Or saying for the 40th time that day, "I love you, Mama!" or "Unschooling is the BEST!" :~)

Little things...

Storm has been asking to do things this week-where has he gotten the idea? I'm not sure. He asked to get me flowers for Mother's Day when we were at Mustard Seed. He asked to buy me a card when we were at Target-but not with me. Which makes it tough when Dave's out of town.

I got a fistful of dandelions a few days ago. :~) Bright, sunny, yellow, fuzzy circles of happiness, plus a couple other "yard flowers"-different shades of purple. Wyl looked SO pleased when I found a simple, clear juice glass to put them in (all of my vases are too big)... they've been sitting in various spots in the kitchen-did you know that yellow dandelions will turn to the seed-puffballs indoors in a glass of water?! I didn't...

Somehow, at this point, I just can't see a bouquet of long stemmed roses or a diamond necklace of a box of gourmet chocolates meaning as much to me as that meaningful fistful of dandelions or the expression that came with the acceptance of them. I've always liked the sunny fuzziness of dandelions, but when they're picked *for* you, because someone wanted to brighten your life or because they were thinking of you... well, how can it get better than that?!

Hope your Mother's Day is full of sweet surprises, sticky hugs and lots of love!

Soapbox mini-rant

As if the title weren't enough... I have been feeling the need to blow off some steam, don't have much venue where I can do that with this and this is *my* space, so I'm going to get up on my li'l ol' soapbox and have my say.

The events of this week have really clarified *why* Unschoolers feel (justly or unjustly) treated with intolerance in eclectic/diverse homeschooling groups. Well, not the entire groups, but certain factions within. (As I brag up my local inclusive group every chance I *get*, I know that the lion's share are super great, wonderful, open folks... but you know what they say about a couple rotten apples...) I guess I'm just not one of those enlightened folks who can just let it go (yet), because each time it comes up, it gets under my skin and irritates a little more.

Hypothetical scenario: "Betty" writes on her local homeschool group that she's stressed about her 3rd grader's math and does anyone have any suggestions to help them get through 3rd grade math? "Suzy" says that she hasn't used it herself, but she's heard really good things about "Acme" curriculum. "Joan" adds her opinion that Acme curriculum didn't work for them, but that they really liked the ease and diversity of "Beta" curriculum. "Freda" says that no, both of those curriculums are junk, that there is a site online that does wonders for 3rd grade math. "Jane" begs forgiveness for contradicting Suzy, Joan and Freda but that better than all of those is a video she has and will bring along for Betty to consider at their next library gathering. "Helga" says all the previous suggestions stink and that she has a computer program that will put all those to shame and that Betty has *got* to use it, and that she'll be bringing it by right after lunch today.

All those posts are accepted as perfectly normal, fine ways of "helping" Betty. Then along comes "Cindy", who doesn't suggest anyone use anything or say that any way is "right" or "wrong", but just talks about how their family doesn't use any sort of curriculum or learning program and how it has worked in their family and how they've learned without canned "educational" stuff *in their own family*. Why does this last post garner accusations of "finger pointing" and claims of "telling other people they are homeschooling 'wrong' "? Why does a little hint that it *is* sometimes possible for some folks to learn without "structured educational -something-" taken as a huge insult?? All rhetorical, but I am baffled.

In the current, real-life situation, the thing that really stamps the "Unschooler hate" sticker on the whole shebang is that FIVE days prior (9:45 pm), a similar issue was brought up on the very same group by the very same original poster (poster "A"), but more in the spelling/writing arena. A tried and true curriculum-user answered "A" with a reply that would have been *very* similar to an Unschooler's reply, basically, "no biggie, time will see an end to the 'problem' ". What did "A" say to the curriculum-user? Not, "Don't answer any of my posts in the future.". Not, "I know your philosophy". Not, "I don't want to hear *your* answer." Not, "That's not what I asked." No. "A" said "That's an acceptable answer" and "I'm glad to know it will change on it's own".

Maybe I'm just too used to open, honest discussions, where people can take or leave what they want from what's posted. I don't know. I just can't understand why a suggestion can be completely acceptable as long as it has a title or a name, but if the answer is "you don't *have* to use something "educational" ', all hell breaks loose as if someone said to tie the child up and force feed them dog poop until they barf all over themselves. Okay, maybe I exaggerate... but it certainly feels that way sometimes.

:: Big, heavy sigh... :: It's just really tough to let it all "roll off your back" or assume the best when you try to offer a kind, gentle, helping hand and you get kicked in the head for your efforts. Anyhow, the whole "scenario" part has been rolling around in my head since about noon 2 days ago (2 1/2?), and I thought that maybe if I purged it out into black and white, it might help me "let it go". I guess maybe it's just too intertwined with... other events... Gee, I just thought of a new definition for "brainwash"! 'Cause I'd sure love to be able to wash some of this right outta my brain! :~)

Tomorrow's another day, I have loads of friends who are so, so good to me and who I love *dearly*, life is good, me and mine have our health, so time for me to smack that inner optimist awake. :~D I think I'll dig up a quote to put at the *bottom* this time...

And this our life, exempt from public haunt,
Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks,
Sermons in stones and good in everything.
-William Shakespeare (1564-1616)

Perspective

"Live as if you were to die tomorrow. Learn as if you were to live forever" ~Gandhi

Incredible the way it affects your being when "one of your own" dies. Especially when it is sudden. Even moreso when they were 12 years younger than yourself.

Today, I heard through the grapevine (amazing how small the world is, really...) that Neal died. Incredible shock was my first reaction. Disbelief was my second. How could someone so kind and gentle, who had so much to live for... someone so... *alive* just be dead? The evidence seemed indisputable, but I hadn't heard anything from any of my other unschooling or homeschooling sources, so maybe there was just some big, giant, horrible mistake? Still, the very *idea* of it crushed my heart and started me crying.

How do you ask folks for that information without being the bearer of bad news or a "rumor monger" (if it turns out to be untrue)? All I could think of was finding out it was a mistake and giving Neal the biggest hug the next time I saw him, and making sure I told him I was thankful for his friendship... Now I will never be able to do that.

His death will leave a big hole in every life he touched. Most especially his family. I so admired how gentle and sweet of a Papa he was. The thought of his children being deprived of him blinds me with grief. How incredibly, inexplicably unfair. Every time it enters my thoughts, it sets me weeping.

I want somehow to build a memorial or build an online page to honor and share him-and we weren't even close friends. It makes the "we only have the now" so much fresher in one's mind. We don't have that chance to get to know him later, when the kids are less needing of parental involvement. I'm sad that we won't get that chance, but it is also a reminder to keep my loved ones close and well cared for. Cherished. Important. Keep the relationships vital and thriving.

Neal, so many will feel your loss. I wish I had known you better. Goodbye, my friend. You will be SO deeply missed.

Conflict

The race of men, while sheep in credulity, are wolves for conformity. -Carl Van Doren, professor, writer, and critic (1885-1950)

I don't know why conflict between my boys seems so tough for me to deal with. Maybe I don't have enough practice. Maybe I don't have enough confidence. Maybe it's something else. I don't know.

Too many times, Storm or Wyl comes to me saying the other did something or hurt him. They *only* do this at home-not at McDonald's, friends' houses, grandparent's houses... (I'm sure there's one time someone will remind me of ;~) ) My first reaction wants to be, "You, (the complainee) stop that offense, *you* (the complainer) figure out a solution!". I don't react this way, of course. The main problem *I* see (which could be *nothing* like what my kids see or need!) is that they're often (I really, really want to say "always", but honestly, it's not "always", just "lots") coming straight to me to work things out between the two of them. Apparently, I'm not going about mediating very well. Sigh...

Today, they were playing Legos in Wyl's room. With Wyl, 95% of the time, this means lots of characters having conflict of some sort. (Hmmm... a thought just popped into my head-maybe I should see if I can play *with* them next time and act out problem-solving...) Today, Storm came complaining that Wyl "wouldn't let me change characters!"
Wyl's response, "He keeps saying, 'I wanna be this guy. No, I wanna be this guy. No, I wanna be *this* guy. No, I wanna be THIS guy. No, now I want to be this guy. I want to be *this* guy'! He just keeps changing!!"

So, I reminded Wyl that Storm was 4 years old and that he was learning a lot about what kind of guy he wanted to be by trying them all out. Wyl said he does it every time. I said that it takes more than one time, it happens over a long period, in Storm's "way" of doing it.

To Storm, I asked if he could tell Wyl at the beginning what few guys, say 3, that he was going to limit his "changing" to, since it really bothered Wyl's playing to have so much changing of "guys". I explained that Wyl had a storyline, a plan that he had worked out in his head and that every time Storm changed guys, it frustrated Wyl, because he had to re-work his story/plan. Storm *said* it was okay. Whether he really understood or not, or understood the "agreement" is another story. :~/

Maybe I offer too much. Maybe I do problem-solve for them too much. When I try to help them work through things together, it seems to involve even more conflict and much angst. If I don't throw in my "two cents worth", it often leads to extreme frustration on Wyl's part, and sometimes things get thrown or smashed. I understand that level of frustration, and that it *seems* best to avoid it at this point. So, I save my "helping them figure out how to work it out together" for smaller stuff, but that seems so few and far between that I am not very adept at it. And I tend to forget.

Add to that mix that I tend to grab up the mantle when there's conflict or hesitation or no one else grabbing it (is that a nicer way of saying I am a control freak? bossy?), and that just adds to the prevailing attitude of "Let mama fix it", I think. Maybe it *is* the right way to do things at this age, this stage, I don't know. I have a lot of self-doubt in that department, and I huge "I don't want to be my mother" reactionary kind of thing going on with the whole "control" issue. I guess the best I can do is just keep turning it over in my head, examining it from all angles and adding things I think might help to the mix. Oh, and *breathing*. I need to remember to breathe... I often forget when it comes to this kind of thing.

Then, too, they *do* some problem-solving without coming to me... sometimes. They play together *lots* very well. They love each other and they're often sweetly kind to each other....

Off to ponder and mull in private instead of public...

Growing...

One does not advance the swimming abilities of ducks by throwing the eggs in the water. -Multatuli (pen name of Eduard Douwes Dekker), novelist (1820-1887)

It never fails to amaze me how much my children have grown. Here I am, beside them each day, all day long most days and yet, when I take a moment and look back... Wow.

Wyl stood up for a friend a few days ago. Neighbor boys from a couple houses away were over along with the gal next door. The neighbor boys were being rather rough with our stuff and throwing bricks around. Wyl told me and I had them stop throwing the bricks. A while later, he came in and said it was getting too cold outside, and I asked if everyone got home okay. He said only the gal next door had been playing and that the neighbor boys had gone earlier. I asked why. He got very animated and told me with no little amount of disgust that the boys were being mean to the girl and threatening her. He warned them to stop or they had to go home. They didn't stop. So my 9 year old son made them leave our yard and go home! I would never have done such a thing at his age... meanness made me afraid. Of course, I had lots of meanness around me, so not only was it "the norm", but it was done by stronger people to weaker ones, and I felt weak. I am indescribably happy that my kid(s) are so strong and certain of themselves and unswerving in their judgement of what is right that they *can* do the right thing! He didn't have to do it on his own-he knew he could come to me and I would do it, but he took it upon himself. Hmmm... it is only now that I am wondering why. Not a big deal, just curious.

Wyl is recently helping in little ways. Surprising ways. He loves to make the beds. Granted, they're not "hospitality ready", but it is more than I do! Well, for my own bed. I know he prefers his to be made, so when I think of it, I'll make his for him. He's been washing a few dishes, occasionally. He scrubbed the toilet the other day. Storm, of course, loves to clean. He has quite a fixation on cleaning the bathroom sink! :~) He's been asking to clean the toilet, too, but since he's only 4, I asked him if he could wait a few days-that way I could pre-clean it and get the germs under control (at least in *my* mind, they'd be under control...) Wyl does little things here and there... organizing the cereal boxes, lining up the coffee mugs, straightening the medicine cabinet. All are so surprising that it is like a little gift every time I see one-I should tell him that!

Both my boys have been snugglier than "usual" this year... Is it because they feel like they need more of me or just because they're happy and want to express it? Should I delve into that or am I just trying to make trouble for myself? :~) Putting in little troubles where there are none?

I got to visit my great aunt last week, who is my last connection to her sister, my grandma. She lost her husband at the beginning of December and is quite sad and lost without him-they'd been married for 60 years... She was a shell of her former self, gray and fragile when I got there. Once the boys warmed up to her and she felt they were comfortable enough, she played with them and laughed with them and her color started coming back and she seemed more her old self. It was lovely to see. She talked about going back to teaching little kids like she used to, years ago, and I can't help but think it would be so good for her. I hope she finds reason to keep going, because she still has so much to share and I'm not ready to let her go!

It has been a week of surprises, reflections and interesting things and people. Life is pretty darn good.

Vibes

The soul is healed by being with children. -Fyodor Dostoyevsky, novelist (1821-1881)

I'm freshly home from Unschooler's Winter Waterpark Gathering and still basking in that unschooling vibe. I love hanging out with unschoolers... easy-going, peaceful, kid-loving, accepting, joyful, fun people. Coming home from it helps me appreciate the great little group of unschoolers we have in my area. THANK YOU, Akron Tribe for being my center, my boost, my ear, my shoulder, my hug. I love you guys!! (Ask Dave-today I must have said it 20 times, "I love my Tribe!")

Contentment

"You really shouldn't say 'I love you' unless you mean it. But if you mean it, you should say it a lot. People forget. When someone loves you, the way they say your name is different. You just know that your name is safe in their mouth." ~Megan Jo Eberhart, 5 years old.

My life is *so* rich... I've been sitting here, today, just so satisfied and content with life As It Is. I have good friends, a good life, family (both blood related and not) whom I love and who love me, a roof over my head, learning & happy kids, choices... Sure, I could pull out the short paycheck, the lack of this one thing or another, having one car when two would really help our unschooling, challenges here and there, lack of funds for one thing or another, bills that are very far behind and make an uptight, nervous wreck of myself. I could use it to make myself and the people around me miserable, but what fun is that? Not that satisfaction and contentment are really "fun", but certainly more pleasant.

I could kick myself for being scattered and not "finishing" my Live and Learn Conference entries like I wanted to. I could gripe at myself and people around me for things that aren't "like they should be". I've done those things before-why not now? I don't know... unschooling? Age? Tiredness? Does it even matter *why*? The thing is, I'm starting to "get" that concept that other folks have posted about being the "rock in the storm" and just letting the chaos wash around and beyond me without soaking it up like I used to. My sponge has petrified. :~D Who would have thought petrification was a good thing?

Ah, distractions. My family's gravity is drawing me towards them-will I get back to this entry? Who knows? So, I'll post it as is and if I get back to it, I do, if not, it wasn't meant to be. I hope *you* are feeling as content and satisfied with your life, too!

Live and Learn 2008 .... part 2

I had a moment of fluster realizing I was "wasting money" on a game we already had. But it was not wasting money. it was an investment in household harmony. -Tamara Markwick, mom to Bradley and Landers

(Sorry about the delay. I was running through 4 AA batteries for every few pictures uploaded on my dial-up, so I waited to continue until we got an adapter to plug the camera into the outlet!)


Wyl was so excited when we got in the room (right after we checked in about 3:30). He took out all of his Pokemon and other stuffed animals, set them up in various locations and positions, grabbed his briefcase (the briefcase those of you who were there shall note was the one that was lost 3, 4, 5 times. :~) THANK YOU to those who helped us find it. Repeatedly.), got one of his notebooks with a good cover, the scissors and proceeded to cut out door-handle signs out of the cardboard cover (like the "Do Not Disturb" signs that were there when we arrived) and made "Do Disturb" and "Pokemon Party" signs to hang on our doorknob. :~) As he was finishing up that, we heard some folks coming in! (We had been the very first ones in Weatherford) The boys took off and met Faith, Easy, Malila and Zola a few minutes before they got to our door and Dave and I met them as well. Faith must have spent *hours* that week, pushing Storm, Wyl, Scott, Zola and Easy (and who knows what other kids in our hall! LOL) up and down the hall on the luggage cart! *Thanks*, Faith-my kids loved it! They also loved movie watching with you!

It was so cool-every time I walked to the front or came back into the hall from points further out, there were more people to meet! In the dining area, in the kitchen, in the halls-it was awesome for a sanguine extrovert like myself :~) Unfortunately, I don't remember names well, so I probably embarrassed myself many times, asking (and re-asking) people's names I'd already met. I'm sorry!

So, our trip to Olive Garden (jeeze, Cameron-I was worried the whole trip that I was going to get a speeding ticket!) gave me the first indication of what I was in for the "week" of the conference. After I got settled in and quit worrying if we were spending too much money on dinner, I got to chat with folks near me, and look around a bit. In the room we had off to the side for ourselves, it really felt like a big, Italian *family* dinner!

After we got back to the room and settled in, it was my night "out". I wandered over to the BRC (big, main building where the gaming room and chow was-for those who don't know). I wandered a bit and was kind of taking it all in when Wyl raced over to me and asked for the keys to the van. He had packed plastic and (mostly) foam swords, knives, helmets, shields, a plate mail or two and other odd bits and pieces and he brought them out for an im-promptu "ad-venture" funshop! Wow - at home, Wyl (and Storm to a lesser degree) is the only kid who can play such "involved" adventure and for so long! It was awe-some for me to see him find a huge bunch of kids that could play right along with him at his pace!! So, so cool.

The Adventure spread out to all corners of the BRC, included all ages, guys and gals and just seemed like so much fun. (Even people who were known for not hanging around with younger people were joining in ::big grin:: ) Nuances cropped up that I hadn't seen or heard of before. I watched for quite a while, chatting and getting to know folks here and there and finally after well over an hour, I realized I didn't have my camera! So, I ran back to the room and grabbed it.


Hide and seek mixed with battle mixed with tag. It was very cool. Some-where in the midst of the ob-serving, photo taking and chat-ting I managed to find a quiet moment to just *be*. I let the vibe sink in... it felt like I had come *home*. In-describ-able, but cool. ::grin ::


I got some time to sit and chat, but mostly wanted to just take it all in. I hope I didn't seem anti-social, and it really *is* pretty unusual for me to just sit and be quiet, but that's what I needed in the moment. :~)

It was a tiny bit intimi-dating to be the newbie in the hubbub of old friends reacquainting, but I knew I had a week to settle in and meet folks and find my own "ad-venture". :~D (Forgive the photo fuzzi-ness, if you will. I'm not sure if I had the camera on the wrong setting of I just didn't hold it steady enough...) It *did* feel nice and warm to be hugged hello by old acquaintances. It was cool to finally put faces to names of folks I had "been reading" for years.

Wed-nesday morning was a rush of folks coming and register-ing - I would have been over-whelmed if I'd have come Wed-nesday. I was SO glad I had come a day early to ac-climate myself.

The Adventure picked up right where it had left off the night before and actually, was a pretty steady item throug-hout the whole week. Most of the morning was just a sea of faces... I hope I didn't pass someone by that I knew! Then again, there are people that you just come together with, that feel so comfy... Scott and Wyl seemed to pick right up where they had left off 7 months before, as if they had called it quits for the night and met up again the next morning. Cool. We got to play with Scott a lot all week and really got to know him better. :~) Thanks, Scott, for the Link hat-Storm LOVES it! Oooh... I should take a pic of him in it tomorrow and put it in here... (His mouth is open because he's singing the Zelda theme music)

There was a scaven-ger hunt that was *so* fun!! We had a blast trying to find things, gather things and "fudge" things. One of my favor-ites was "Kelly Lovejoy's Badge", which Kelly *swore* she wouldn't give up to anyone and she'd even sleep with it under her pillow... ::very big grin:: There were only 2 teams that showed up with stuff and so we both won, since there were 3 prizes. We still haven't found a good day for flying our kite, yet, but we will...

The game room was cool. Not really what I'd imagined, but wonderful in it's reality. Rock Band was very popular and I'm glad 3 of us "roadied" our "equipment". :~D I wish I'd have had more time to play with other folks, but we're planning on taking it to UWWG, so maybe there. I'm in the process of setting up a home-schooler's Rock Band outing once or twice a month in downtown Akron, so hopefully, I'll get the chance.

I didn't get to all the funshops and talks I wanted to, but what I did was enough. Imagine that! I left on Monday feeling quite satisfied and content, not at all like I had missed out. Although, I do have to say, I was *really* looking forward to meeting Sandra and Dianna & Hayden. I guess that just means we need to make another road trip. Or two!! :~)

Oh, I almost forgot my trip to Lee Hall. Or should I say my *first* trip. I had no idea how steep that bugger was. I mean, you can easily see it is *up* there, but not how steep the incline is. I didn't notice the heat or the humidity that day until I was about half way up, hoping and begging the fates that my knee would hold out to the top. I slowed down after my initial pace and tortoise-like, made my way to the top, seemingly an inch at a time. I got to the top of the drive and looked up, up, up the stairs at the hall. Ohy. I made my way over to where there was a handrail, to help my knee as much as possible-even though there were folks sitting up at the top of that path. My knee really needed that handrail... So, I made it to the top without my knee giving out and as I stepped up the last stair, those folks sitting at the top (apparently having read my namebadge) *applauded* me and said, "You made it, De". I think that's what they said. My humiliation pretty much obliterated anything else in the next minute or so. I smiled and nodded and scooted off, my face would have turned red had it not already been so from the climb. I went indoors to sit and mope and pout about how *mean* those people had been to the fat person. Aren't unschoolers supposed to be better than that? I whined to myself. Completely embarrassed and figuratively licking my wounds, I sat on a love-seat kind of thing just inside the door. I looked for Dave to complain about the whole situation and when I went to get up, THEN my knee went out. LOL At least I had made it to the top. Well, after my knee rested, we got over the "emergency" of Wyl getting "separated" from us (he was at BRC and we had failed to let him know we were going up to Lee), getting snow cones for the boys and sharing popcorn, I headed out on the porch. Laura was just finishing that huge climb up to Lee and she paused and leaned on a pillar while she recovered and caught her breath. She said something about it being so hard and I noticed how hard she was breathing and it clicked. They weren't MOCKING me, it was truly a spectacular climb and they were likely encouraging and congratulating all the folks that made the climb!! Ohy... That's what I get for jumping to conclusions-and on a bad knee, yet. Guess I learned a little bit about how I feel about De that afternoon.

Dave had *his* night "out" that night and I crashed early with Storm. Breakfast comes mighty early to folks used to getting up after 10 AM....

Live and Learn 2008 .... part 1

"There is no single effort more radical in it's potential for saving the world than a transformation of the way we raise our children." Marianne Williamson

Our first L & L... Where to *begin*?!

I joined Unschooling Discussion *right* before St. Louis... I probably could have scrambled and gotten in (and it was the closest one to us!), but I didn't feel that we "could" go, being as we weren't fully committed to unschooling and we definitely weren't radical unschoolers. Ah, to have gone to a Live & Learn conference back then... Ever since, I've been interested in going-since Albuquerque, I've wanted to make it *sooo much*! It had become this Mecca, this pilgrimage in my mind. The place where, if I could just make it, I would then be A Whole Life, Radical Unschooler. :~D Well... until this past year or so, when I really seemed to find my groove. Not that it diminished my desire to be at L & L with other unschoolers, day in and day out for the better part of a week... In fact, when (during the last month leading up to 2008) money was so tight, I wasn't sure if we'd have enough money for gas for the trip and food on days we didn't have the BRA cafeteria to rely on, I was afraid to get excited about the trip... Afraid that it wouldn't happen and my disappointment would be to huge to deal with rationally. (Obviously we *did* make it, thank goodness). I had thought our tax stimulus would cover things, and it did up to a point, and then we had to dip into the remainder because of stuff that came up. Ugh. It happens too often for my peace of mind.

So, when it was clear (a couple days before departure) that we *could* actually make it (can you imagine having all the room, food, shirts, con- ference fee, etc. all paid for and not be able to make it because you didn't have enough GAS?! Ohy...), we had SO much fun decorating the van for the trip! It was hot and sweaty, but there was so much Joy in the whole process-even when I misjudged my back bumper and the whole "Warning: Unsocialized homeschoolers on board!" wouldn't fit, and I washed it all off and started over again. It worked out well, anyhow, because the red didn't show

up on the gray so well to begin with, and I had the idea to leave a bit of space and outline it with white, and that just made it *pop*. Cool.


Wyl did the Super Mario stuff,
including the mushroom, star and fire flower on the wheels.



And just in case no one can tell, that says, "Let's A-Go To Live and Learn" (as it would be said in a Mario accent :: grin ::).


^Storm did most of the driver's side behind the driver door just as high as his arms could reach! ^



Wyl thoughtfully wrote Storm's name on the window, since Storm isn't quite writing, yet.
Dave did the flags and the flames. I thought the Ohio flag was a super-cool idea. We're also kind of state-proud that it is the only non-square/rectangle flag in the 50 states.

And I did the rest. It is kind
of addicting! I kept thinking of stuff
as I drove and kept adding when we
stopped. Two and a half hours from
BRA, as we left the hotel, I added my
screennames to my door and my emotie.
I meant to put this emotie as well
:~D
but the liquid chalk was running down the
car from having washed the sponges and
not drying them well enough, so I got
distracted and that was enough for me to
forget. LOL
(Oh, and as noted on the Live and Learn Yahoo group, the liquid chalk that is made for *windows* is rather permanent on that nice, wide expanse of white van. If you don't want your artwork and words permanent on the side of your vehicle, I would strongly advise not using liquid chalk! Someone who's used poster paint before reccomends that-says it rinses off in the rain.)

I packed too much. I always do. I'm so worried that the boys will run out of clothes (how could they? they rarely change clothes!), that they will get wet or muddy or some other sticky or dirty mess and need to change into clothes I hadn't planned for... When you don't have extra money for the laundromat, and you're far from home... well, those are the kind of things my brain chooses to latch onto. I often don't have enough clothes, but I packed lots of extra and I had *just* enough. Yay!! I will have *more* clothes, now, thanks to Robyn and her sharing of "reverse tie dying" for clothes that are solid, but "less than optimal" visually. Boy, do I have a LOT of those...

The trip itself was almost uneventful. When we started out, it was so nice and cool. Low 70s. Amazing how different the air is in the *morning* (us late night folks don't often get to experience that. LOL). We kept the windows closed so we could *hear* and that necessitated a bit of air conditioning to stave off the stuffiness and the sun shining in all those windows. Well, just over half way through the trip (well past Storm's average napping time), legs were needing stretched, folks were getting antsy and Dave and I needed a bathroom break. So, we pulled off the next place we saw - Virgina somewhere - (very aggrivating exit which advertized a McDonald's, but didn't say until you were already off the freeway/highway that it was a 3 mile drive with 4 turns to get to it!) and once we pulled into the parking lot, we were ready to get out! I had the boys grab a ball to go run in the grass, and opened my door to this huge oven-blast of *hot* air! That really surprised me. For one of the first times since Storm had gotten stung, he was too gung ho to go to bother with shoes (he'd been *very* insistent on always wearing shoes outdoors after he got stung twice in one day at Goodyear Metropark), so Dave grabbed the ball while I helped Wyl find what he needed and got my own shoes on and took Storm across a drive way to the farther-from-the-road patch of grass. Not 90 seconds after he got out of the car, there was a scream and yell-crying! At first, I thought he was just super-cranky from being tired and hungry, but it was just a moment before I realized something was up. The "something" was a *bad* bee sting! Poor little kiddo... we had used up my bee sting kit on his other two stings. I only got stung once as a kid (well, once in my life so far), Wyl made it to at least 8 before he got stung, and I just didn't expect so many stings in such a short time... He was inconsolable. I managed to comfort him down from ear-piercing screams (that had everyone looking our way) to wails and sobs and each breath was, "ow.ow.ow.ow.ow.ow.ow.ow" then a sob or a moan or a wail or a not-so-piercing scream. He wouldn't let us take the stinger out (though it came out somewhere along the way). He wouldn't let me blow on it. He wouldn't let us put ice on it. And by "wouldn't let", I truly mean he made sure it didn't happen! He was adamant. No hugging, no looking at it, no stroking, no kissing, no rocking, nothing. Dave took a turn at the bathroom which gave him time to chill and calm down, then while I took Wyl to the bathroom with me, Dave took over. By the time I came back out, he was calm. It was a long 10-15 minutes of severe upset before that happened. We got the fruit out of the cooler from the back, refilled everyone's water bottles when we stopped across the street for some more sting stuff, and headed back to the road. By the time we got up the onramp, Storm was asleep. I had settled into the passenger seat for a nap and Wyl was quietly drawing, so that was it for the excitement for the day!

The novelty of a borrowed DVD player took up a lot of time, and we planned the overnight stay *perfectly*. No one was over tired or sick of being in the car by the time we got to the Holiday Inn and we had plenty of energy to swim! Only one stop the whole day. The little potty came in handy, though. That cut out one stop. Dave made his wonderful bean and cheese and salsa burritos and we got to bed at a decent hour and were ready to go the next day. We made it up in time for breakfast *and* got on the road as planned!! A whole bunch of firsts.

We only had just over 2 hours left to drive to make it to the BRA and that was a nice late morning, early afternoon drive. We're so used to afternoon, evening events *and* we tend to be late, it slipped my mind that we had arrived an hour an a half before check in. Not only "not late", but *early*!!! So, I was a bit embarrassed when the staff at the check-in window told me I had to wait until 3 PM. I *knew* that, I just never figured it would happen that *we* would be early, so it wasn't in the forefront of my mind. :~D Well, after a trip around Ashville looking for the native American restaurant we wanted to try (and finding out they're closed on Mondays! LOL), we ended up signing in with no lunch, so we were *ready* for dinner when everyone headed to Olive Garden.

The picture is kind of a fallacy, because we *forgot* to bring our awesome door sign we'd made ourselves at Kalahari, and waited until the Wednesday funshop to make a new one. Then, we didn't actually get it put up *on* the door until late Wednesday or early Thursday... I kind of forget, since about that point, the days just kind of blurred together. LOL

That took us through the evening of Tuesday. That night was cool, but since this is so long already, I'm going to start the next entry with that. Gee, I didn't know it was going to run SO very long! Hope I'm not boring everyone... LOL Ah, well. It's my blog and my perogative. Besides, I'll never ever know if you skip around or jump ahead.

Anyone up for tutoring me on the html of blogging?

Seriously! I would love to have someone in the know give me tips and hints or be available for e-mail (or IM) conferencing to help me figure out stuff. Anyone who's up for it, please e-mail me at either
BiggWylma@aol.com
or
Sanguinegirl83@aol.com

THANKS!!

What's up with BiggWylma?!

The average pencil is seven inches long, with just a half-inch eraser - in case you thought optimism was dead. -Robert Brault, software developer, writer (1972- )

I'm astounded-nothing since APRIL?? Yikes. I guess we've had a busy summer! Well, as a little bite to get back into a (hopefully) regular posting mode, I'm going to explain where my screen name came from. Since people tend to ask (since my name isn't Wylma or Wilma or anything of the sort) often, I thought I'd put it down for posterity. (Isn't there a way to change the background color for each entry?)

Okay, so here it is. I like to play with words. I just couldn't reconcile myself to a simple version of my first and last names. The account I was creating was intended to be for my homeschooling research and general "stuff". At the time I started this screen name, I had only a son named Wyl (pronounced "Will"), short for Wyllyam. I'm his mama or his Ma. On AOL, "WylMa" was already taken. I'm a pretty big gal. BigWylma was taken already. So, I just added another "G" and it became BiggWylma. The problem *now*, is that I'm not just Wyl's ma, I'm also Storm's ma. So, I've been thinking of creating one that is something (since we often call Storm "Stormy") like: StormyWylma... but I'm not sure if we're done adding to the family... so... do I change it now and then again later if we add on? Or do I wait...? Not a big dilemma, but I do wonder how Storm might feel about it once it enters his realm of awareness...

I've been debating about how to start my post about Live and Learn (now that I'm on the downside of the conference crud)... Wondering if I should just post and then edit and add in photos and additional thoughts after it is already out there, or if I should just keep it in "draft" mode... I think I'm leaning toward "draft" mode, but if anyone shouts out and says something about having it out there and added to, I might lean that way.

Now, Wyl wants the phone line for his computer, so I'm off...