Who knew?

I wanted to be a mommy from early on. There were many loves and desires wrapped up in that goal, but I always knew I'd be one. I spend more time planning my parenting skills and daydreaming about how I'd handle certain situations and what I'd name my kids and how many were enough than I spent planning careers - and there were *many* different hats I tried on in the career department!

It is so funny... I was *sure* I knew pretty much how parenting would go, how it would be... Almost all I imagined was so far from the truth as to be almost inconceivable. Then there are the things that never occurred to me...

I would have been the first to tell you, 13 or 14 years ago, that you were crazy, if you'd have told me what kind of parenting I'd be practicing today! I had my ideals and they were nowhere near then what they are today. I had planned out how I'd handle the "tough" stuff... never even dreaming that those things might never come up, and was totally blindsided by other things that I'd never considered: like my 5 year old being terrified of death and dying and his parents dying and not really being able to wave a magic wand to make that fear disappear in a motherly wave of compassion and gentleness.

I fully believed that a parent should not be a friend to their child, and today I am thrilled to count my kids as my friends; they are awesome people and I'm glad they consider me to be their friend, too.

I had no idea that my kids and I would enjoy the same kinds of music - even having the same favorite songs! It never entered my imagination that we would regularly ride along in the vehicle, singing happily together... Nor could I have imagined the peace, joy and contentment that would bring me. Tears-in-my-eyes happiness. Granted, they're often telling me to, "Turn it down, Mama!" - gee... who'd've thought?!

I couldn't have dreamed up a first-born kid that could catch me off guard with his quirky, smart humor - to the point that I spew laughter unexpectedly. :~D

I'd never have conceived that my almost-teen son would not only still want to hug me, but snuggle with me, want his head kissed, want me to tuck him in - prefer that I lay down with him for a while.

I still find it almost incomprehensible that I have a youngest kid who routinely, *daily*, runs around sing-songing, "This is the best day ever. This is the bestest day ever. This is the best day ever." It seems to be his mantra. How incredibly awesome that each subsequent day is the *best* day! And when I think about it, he's right! It really is!

I've been thinking about how I started learning about partnership parenting, lately. I know I've told the story so many times, but I still am kind of awed by it. Reading about unschooling on the radical unschooling boards elicited strong reactions from me. Things like,

"They're CRAZY!"
"Oh, that's just stupid."
"Well, that would never work *here*!"
Very strong, adamant responses - almost to the point of being shocking. But, the other things I read with those "crazy" ways of doing things was about results. About kids and parents who wanted to be together. Who shared with each other. Who *listened* to each other. Most amazingly, though, were the teens - teens who *wanted* to hang out with their parents, who were kind and thoughtful and open and *talked* with their parents openly, who came to their parents first and right away when there was a problem. Families who *trusted* each other. I knew teens. I'd been a teen. This concept was totally foreign to me. I wanted this - and the more I read about it, the more I wanted it. I was not easily convinced that being a partner to my child would end up with those results, but I grudgingly, slowly accepted that the alternative rarely got those results (and never the trust spoken of, that I knew of), and so I dove in.

At one point in my early struggles to grasp the concept, I "threw in the towel", thinking that it wasn't "working", and decided I was going back to traditional parenting! Within a day, I knew I could never be that parent, again - if I ever had totally been that parent. I found that once you learned how to respect someone, you couldn't ignore that and treat them with less value, with less honor just because you decided so. For a day or so, that had me desperate and flailing. Eventually, I found it strengthening - it backed up the ideas I so loved and wanted for my family.

When you find something that makes your heart sing with joy and makes you radiate sunshine and happiness, you want to share it. You wish everyone could be as happy as you are. As I look back on conversations that happened online this week, I see the enthusiasm with which people share these ideas of partnership... I can sometimes get a infintessimal glimpse at how some others might perceive the rush to share as intolerance for other ideas that don't mesh with partnership and respect. I still don't see the threat, though. Even though I experienced a little tiny bit of that when my ingrained ideas were challenged, I had no sort of "fight back" kind of reaction. Maybe I'm just tired, but even after all these years, I still am a bit baffled by the vehement reactions to unusual ideas - to ideas that challenge one's assumptions and ingrained societal "norms"... Is it because it is parenting? Is it because it is personal, rather than a difference in the workplace? When does something change from being two differing viewpoints to an "attack"?

I thought writing it out might help me process it, but at this point, it hasn't. I'll let it stew in my brain for a while.

Today has been music, games, movies, good food, hugs, laughter, learning, idea-bouncing, helping each other - the best day *ever*!

Milestones

I started discussing this on Facebook, then realized my kids both have accounts and could possibly run across what I was writing... ! If they know about my blog, they don't know how to get to it. I think.

Storm's tooth has been loose for a few weeks, now. We've been keeping an eye on it. Not very loose, but last week, it got a bit wigglier. Tuesday night, after his teeth were brushed, we noticed a big difference in the movement - it was really loose! Wednesday afternoon, he'd come to me occasionally with how wiggly it was, testing it, chatting casually about it and really just touching base with me about his tooth. Toward late afternoon, he was wiggling it a lot and I jokingly said something about him pulling it out. He immediately grabbed it with his index finger and thumb and... well, anyone who's ever tugged on a slippery, smooth tooth knows how well that works. I offered the information that he could use his shirt tail for better grip, if his fingers were slipping, if he wanted to. He had a hard time getting his shirt in his mouth and something caught his attention and he was off.

Now, mind you, in all these weeks - heck, all his life - we've not mentioned the Tooth Fairy. I had issues with TF (as I've been calling the Tooth Fairy this week) when Wyl was little, but overcame those with good advice and wonderful stories from other folks. Since we've come to a more balanced, trust-based relationship with our kids, I've also quit telling them all about things - especially legendary things like Santa, TF, Harry Potter and Hogwarts, Thor, etc. I like to answer questions they have with "What do you think?" And wait for more specific questions for which they don't have an answer or opinion before I give information. Even then, I like to give general information and include lots of different things I've heard, so they can decide what to think, what to believe.

Wednesday night, right before heading up to prep for bed and snuggle together for sleeping, Storm was coming in from the little pool we put up in the back yard, shivering, and talking about his tooth. He said something about wanting to pull it and I suggested his towel. I think the towel was too big. He couldn't seem to get a grip on it. He turned away and a moment later he was quietly saying with wonder, "My tooth is out!" (Again, SO different from Wyl - my oldest would have been shouting and yelling and giddy. :~D ) He had been wiggling it back and forth and it just popped loose! He inspected it. He gave it to me to inspect while he felt the hole in his mouth. He showed his brother his hole and his tooth. He showed Daddy his tooth. He brought it to me and said, "We need to put this under my pillow tonight for the tooth fairy!"

Uh... Okay... ! So, I'm scrambling to figure out how (since it has been a few years since I last had a tooth under a pillow to deal with) much the going rate is (posted to Facebook), trying to find the half dollars and silver dollars I had stashed for Wyl, while Wyl is kindly helping Storm get ready for bed. I'm thinking I *have* to do this right after he falls asleep, or I'll forget! Which means, I need to find the stuff and take it up with me, in moments...
In the middle of my scramble, Storm comes down and says he doesn't want to put the tooth under his pillow tonight, because he wants to keep it for a while more. While I'm relieved I have some extra time to work it out, I'm also intrigued. I don't think I would have thought of that, as a kid. Things were done by a certain structure and with specific rules and I learned to know those rules and follow them without question, so I didn't miss out on anything.

We talked today (thanks, Meredith!) about where he learned about the tooth fairy, what he knew (he thinks the tooth fairy "... brings random amounts like $20.58 or $50.10" I'm not sure if he thinks it is actually that *high* of an amount, or if he was just using nice, round numbers to clarify the change... We talked about what she wore, if she had a wand, if she had wings, if she glittered... I loved hearing his take on the TF! He told me he wanted to write a note to TF, telling her he wanted to keep the tooth for a while, and at first, I thought the note was a "substitute tooth", where he'd put that in place of the tooth and get his money. As I talked with him, though, I got this urgency feeling - like he felt he needed to let her know before it was "too late"... like there was a deadline. He also wanted to leave the tooth *in* the envelope with the note as "proof" that he'd lost it, and wasn't just writing a note to get money. I *really* don't know where he got that idea... I told him that he was an honest person and I'm sure the TF would believe him, but he could put the tooth in there, too, if he wanted.

So, tonight, when it came time to write the note, he told me he decided he wanted to keep it another day. (He loves that tooth! He loves the hole in it and the bloody stump and everything! He is amazed by it and really thinks it is cool... ) So, we wrote a note (he dictated, I just moved the pen):

"I lost a tooth but I have decided to keep it a day longer and I hope you trade it in for cash like you're supposed to , if you are real.

And I hope you get this.

FROM STORM

TO Toothfairy"

(The all caps are his writing) Then, he put "FS" on the envelope and told me, "That means 'from Storm'" and zipped upstairs to put it under his pillow.

I brought the note down with me, after he fell asleep, because my memory is pretty bad, and I wanted to answer it, but I left the envelope under his pillow, just in case he woke and felt for it. :~D I put together 2 brief rough drafts, trying to disguise my handwriting, then the one that was supposed to be the *actual* note, I wrote too big on and ran out of space, and then reverted to cursive on the last word, so I had to do it over. :~D I settled for plain, white paper with purple marker writing... but I REALLY wanted to go all out, with purple paper and glitter and stickers and beautifully printed font... Ahh, alas... the disappointments of a procrastinator.

Anyhow, I replied (in beautiful purple marker and handwriting from my teen years - minus the circle-dotted "i"s... ):

"Dear Storm,
Thank you *so* much for your note! I am happy you'd like to keep your tooth for a while longer. I like teeth, too!

If you ever decide you don't want your tooth any more, you can give it to your mama and she can figure out what to do with it.
From ToothFairy"

Then, on a different envelope (why don't I have purple envelopes?!), I put FTF. :~D We decided on one Susan B. Anthony silver dollar and one presidential gold dollar. Still coins, yet more than a quarter.

I really love doing little things like this for my kids. I don't really know if they enjoy it or not... I don't know if it will ever be one of those "keepsake memories" for them, as they get older... But, I enjoy it. Even if they don't enjoy these little things individually, specifically, they are all small ingredients in a happy childhood, a happy life. I like butter in my chocolate chip cookies and a bit of salt. I like to add coconut, chopped nuts and bourbon vanilla. I like to make sure there's a *wee* bit more chocolate chips than the recipe on the bag calls for. Some people notice, some don't. I do it because I like to, and because I like them that way. :~) You could probably leave that teaspoon of salt out of the chocolate chip cookies or use vanilla flavoring instead of extract or use shortening instead of butter and they'd still be good to eat. But, little snippets of this and that can make what would be a regular cookie into a wonderful, delicious experience that makes someone say, "Wow! I had a wonderful cookie! I don't know what was in it, but *man*, it was great!" My kids will know they had a great childhood. They may not be able to pick out the specific little tidbits or ingredients that made it so or they may; it doesn't matter. The "what" is vastly more important than the "why", for me.

Listening

Funny how ideas about parenting change after becoming a parent. I thought I would be teaching my children to listen to me... funny. Turns out, one of the most important things I could learn as a parent was how to listen. Sometimes, I still have occasions where I struggle to shut my mouth and listen, but I am always better off when I do.

I am naturally an impulsive person. I struggled long and hard to pause before jumping in with full gusto or speaking without considering my words first. In my eagerness to share my knowledge with people, especially my kids, sometimes I forget myself and jump right in with both feet. Knowledge is often a good stew: something that is better when bits and pieces are added as needed, and stirred and left to simmer and bubble for a long time.

I've learned to not answer a question immediately, to pause and let it hang in the air a bit, sometimes. I've learned to stop launching into an immediate instructional "rant", and offer small bits and wait for them to be incorporated before checking to see if more might be needed. One of the most valuable things I've learned is to ask, "What do you think?"

So often, when my kids ask me a question, it is their way of opening a dialogue, of getting something started so *they* can tell *me* what is on their mind. Questions like, "Do the people who work in the store stay there all day - do they sleep there?" and "Do bunnies brush their teeth", get amazing answers if I ask, "What do you think?", and I often learn a whole lot about the subject and my kids.

Last night, while lying down with Storm, we had the DS on for light. On the hour, it gives a little chime, which Storm really likes (I do, too!). After it chimed for 10:00, he sat up and looked over to it; the face of the DS was turned away from the bed, but the radio alarm clock was facing us. He laid back down and after a pause asked, "Why does the DS have a 12 when the chime happens, but the other one says ten oh oh?" (Storm can tell time on an analog clock, but has difficulty with a digital and Wyl can read a digital but not an analog)

I explained about how the "analog" face on the DS showed the hour by not having "minutes after", and that if we waited a minute and the hand clicked one dot, it would be a minute after, but the hand being straight up at the 12 meant that it was exactly 10, with no minutes after. He immediately chimed in with, "And when it is a minute after on the other clock, it will be ten oh one! -Look! It *is*!!"

So, I thought I'd go a little further with the time thing and said that there were 60 minutes in an hour and he seemed to have known that, but maybe forgotten it. I asked if he knew what half of 60 was. He thought, "Half of 6 is 3... so 30." Pretty good for a 6 year old, I thought. I said, "Some people, when it is 10:30 or 9:30 or 3:30 will say it is 'half past' or 'half past the hour', because 30 minutes is half of the 60 minutes in the hour."

He digested that for a bit and I asked, "Do you know what half of a half is?", trying to figure out how to get to "quarter after" in a way he'd understand. No pause, he *knew* that, "A quarter". Wow. I had no idea he knew that! I find it is way cooler to find out my kids know stuff this way, rather than being "instructional" and rattling off facts and information like an encyclopedia and having them huff at me and say, "I KNOW that, Mama!" and roll their eyes. Way cooler. So, I asked, "Can you figure out a quarter of 60? Half of the half?" while I'm digging around in my head, trying to figure out if I can relate that to him and how...

"Well, half of 3 is one and a half..." What?!! My six year old knows fractions?! Who the heck knew?! So, as one of us mumbled something about 30 and 15, I was trying to jump-start my stunned brain into function again as Storm said excitedly, "I'm going to count as high as I can in math!" And proceeded: "Two plus two is four. Four plus four is eight, eight plus eight..."

That is so often how discovery and learning happens in my own head: main question, supposition, smaller questions, ideas, more questions, "ah-ha!"... so I guess it really isn't that surprising that it works externally as well, and is very much more satisfying to have a back-and-forth dialogue with my kids, rather than me spouting off and them being quiet and *possibly* listening while I get on my soapbox and "generously" hand down my knowledge. I suspect it builds a better relationship, as well.

I'm THAT mom...

I am *loving* this impromptu blog carnival! Fun stuff - thanks, Ronnie!

I am that mom that gets the looks at the playgrounds & playplaces from other moms.

I am that mom who always seems to be smiling in the midst of mayhem and ruckus while other moms with leery looks guide their children wide around our "circle of influence".

I am that mom that sits in the restaurant making funny faces with her kids. The goofier, the better. Are there people watching? I have no idea - we're having too much fun!

I am that mom who buys her little boy Barbie-type & Bratz dolls.

I am that mom who sits with her wailing, screaming child in the middle of the dairy section of the superstore, rocking and mumbling sweet nothings while the storm runs its course.

I am that mom who has more than 2 boxes of collected "trash" in the form of snack & cereal boxes, supplement/vitamin bottle cotton, foam packing blocks, cardboard tubes and other scraps & bits for "just in case" art projects.

I am that mom that impresses her tween son's schooled friends with her hands-on-mouth fart noises.

I am that mom that shops for aluminum foil, PVC tubing & connectors, flour & sugar, and other odd items for her kids to experiment with, play with & build with.

I am that mom that sets up kickball for homeschoolers in our area, then plays with the kids, no matter how ridiculous I might look. :~D It's fun and I can't see how I might look, so I don't care. No matter *how* many times I fall. :~D

I am that mom that has a yard others must look at and think "garbage dump", but I see the result of hours of creativity.

I am that mom that defends her 6 year old's use of the F word to her mother, or any other word that doesn't hurt people, for pete's sake.

I am that mom that hopes that her kids will live with her or in the neighborhood for as long as possible, *but* is happy to help them and cheer them on if they decide otherwise.

I am (said with tongue in cheek and quite a large grin on my face) that mom who needs a long spot of quiet time to think when I write, to organize my thoughts, get that flow going from brain to "paper"to get a coherent result, but will happily take a break to read the "magazines" her youngest has just made, look at the creative mix-matching of pictures in a sales paper her oldest has created. Without once griping or yelling about "my time". Now, what was I saying?? :~)

Twenty, fifteen or even twelve years ago, I would never have imagined parenting the way Dave and I do today. Never. Much of the way we parent, I hadn't even imagined was possible! Funny, though, the relationship we have with our kids was also inconceivable to me even 10 years ago... Which is why it makes it *so* easy to smile and shrug off those glares in public places when I can imagine the thoughts going through those heads behind those glaring faces, "Look, it's one of *those* moms!" and consider myself in excellent company.

~*~*~*~*~

Some links to other entries in the carnival (at which other links are available!):

http://zombieprincess.blogspot.com/2010/07/im-that-mom.html

http://bearthmama.com/2010/07/that-kinda-mama/

http://piscesgrrrl.blogspot.com/2010/07/i-am-that-mom.html

http://justabaldman.blogspot.com/2010/07/impromptu-blog-carnival-i-am-that-dad.html

http://www.swissarmywife.net/2010/07/i-am-that-dad-my-column-at-enjoy-life/

http://www.frecklesfilledwithlove.blogspot.com/ part 1

http://www.frecklesfilledwithlove.blogspot.com/ part 2

A Reading Storm

"The master in the art of living makes little distinction between his work and his play, his labor and his leisure, his mind and his body, his information and his recreation, his love and his religion. He hardly knows which is which. He simply pursues his vision of excellence at whatever he does, leaving others to decide whether he is working or playing. To him he's always doing both." — James A. Michener

I never got to see the process of learning to read with Wyl. I know I tell this story all the time, but it is *so* important to our unschooling... I had grand plans of homeschooling Wyl's beginning reading... From the time we were considering homeschooling when he was 2-ish, I had visions of bright colored crayons, that manila paper with the red and blue dotted lines for beginning writers, letter charts, sitting with him at the kitchen table (yeah, I hear some of you laughing out there! It's all *true*!), working patiently, *teaching* him his letters, how to write, and eventually how to read. I had thoughts of Dick and Jane books, hours spent benevolently sharing my knowledge with my dear, firstborn son... just he and I... Well, of course, with my own schooling ideas having never been challenged, I figured those things would start in our homeschool Kindergarten year, which wouldn't start until September the year he turned 6, according to our state laws. Wyl wasn't having any of *that*.

I had loved (still do) reading to him... Dave started reading a little book to him every night when we found out I was pregnant. Every night, Dave would lie his head on my belly and read a little Dr. Seuss or some other children's book. Then, after the upheaval of new person in the house, we started reading again when he was several weeks old. Dave or I, every night, reading a little something. I think Dave felt it was more of an obligation, something that needed to be done like changing diapers. :~D So, as the books got longer and with less pictures, Dave read less and less. When Wyl was 5, I had been the only one reading for some time. We were still reading every night, and about the time he turned 5, we were on the Laura Ingalls series. I had always loved reading books about kids my age, and Little House in the Big Woods saw Laura at 4 & I think she had her 5th birthday in it as well. It's been a while. I forget. :~) So, one night, we're lying there in bed, reading and Wyl says, "Let me see that a minute", gesturing for the book. I hand it over to him and he proceeds to read several paragraphs, without stammering or struggling except on an extremely big word or two, then hands it back and says, "Okay, that's all I want to do. You read, now." Wow. I mean, I know he'd been reading "dairy" and "cheese" and things like that at the grocery store, and "stop" on the stopsigns and such, but it never happened how I had pictured: small, simple sentences at first, sounding out words, slowly getting longer and longer sentences, more complex and multi-syllable words... no. Wyl got a basic grasp, then he did some sort of processing in his head, and *boom*, he was *reading*. Fumbling blindly with my concepts and ideas for a bit after that, I bought him a Dick and Jane compilation book, which he enjoyed (I think he found it kind of weird and comic), but really, he pretty much went from 0 to 1st grade readers instantly. At least externally. I have no idea what went on *inside* his head. :~)

Which is why Storm's process is kind of a retro-thrill for me: I get to SEE it happening! Wyl knew his alphabet entirely (from the song and recitation) by the time he was 2. With Storm, I've gotten to see, "Hey! That's an 'H'!" and other letter recognition. Questions, too - Wyl
never asked much questions, but with Storm, the process has been a sharing of knowledge. Storm very clearly uses phonics. We never used any phonics books or games with him, though Sesame Street does use a bit of phonics, but Wyl watched *far* more Sesame Street than Storm ever did. It just is how he processes the information.

Storm went through a little disappointment period a while back: he was upset because he "couldn't read". He lives in a house with readers: 2 adults and a brother 5 1/2 years older who's reading at or near adult level. No wonder he felt "left out". I tried to assure him that he would read when his brain was ready, but that clearly wasn't what he needed to hear... he was still upset. He had already recognized word-symbols like Wal*Mart and Lego and Sesame Street, so I sat down and wrote some words I knew that he recognized and some I thought he did: Mama, Wyl, storm, WalMart, cat, etc. He did recognize one or two and I helped him figure out what the others were and that seemed to satisfy him. *I* believe(d) that his beginning reading process was already started, and that he was "reading" in a beginning fashion, so maybe that helped: because I believed.

I ran across that page in the notebook recently, and he knew more of those words, and the others he surprised me by sounding out! We'd not done any of the "S sounds like ssssss" kind of thing, so I thought it was really cool that he'd picked that up.

(Storm "reading" - sorry it's so dark!)Storm's not as fond of reading *every* night, and Wyl and I are kind of on a summer hiatus with reading: we have other things to do in the warm weather besides curling up with a good book, and we can't really decide what we want to read next. SkippyJohn Jones got Storm more interested in reading at night more often, but he's far from an "every night" kinda person. Bummer. Sometime in the last few weeks, I'd *finally* gotten him to okay me reading Dr. Seuss' ABCs: a book Wyl adored when he was younger; so much so, I have it memorized. :~D I'd been asking and asking Storm if I could read it to him and he kept saying no. So, one night I said I wanted to read it very bad, that I hadn't read it in a long time and I liked it: would he mind if I read it out loud to *myself*? Well, he was okay with that, and let me read it all the way through. I'm really glad, because now *he* likes it, and has requested it very often, since!

Tonight, Wyl was snuggling with Storm before we really got down to the sleeping part, and Wyl requested a book. There was some debate, because Wyl wanted to hear SkippyJohn Jones, but Storm was resisting. Dr. Seuss' ABCs was suggested by one of them and they were *both* happy to have that as the choice (just as I was about to offer to read 2! :~) ) and that *really* made me smile: my 11 year old still wants to hear me read Dr. Seuss. :~) So, somehow, in the last few readings, we've started naming our *own* things we think of that start with the letter we're on. Storm likes "apple" for A... not surprising, as he loves apple slices. He is amazing me with his grasp of "beginning letters"... last night, when we finished "ear, egg, elephant", he thought for a moment and said, eight. "Wow!" I said, "That's right! That's really good, because 'eight' sounds more like it starts with an 'A'!" I was really stunned that he knew that! I know, I shouldn't be, but like I said, this external process is new to me. :~) He really picked out some good ones in the last couple nights, amazing me with his grasp of "C" vs. "K" and "H" sounds, too. I even goofed on "N" and said "knee" and then realizing my mistake, switched to "knuckle". LOL

I'm so glad I was able to reassure Storm when he had concerns and he was able to go through his process in his time and his way. It still amazes me to see it: kind of like taking the back off of a winding-watch and seeing it move and work while you're watching. So fascinating and cool! Storm's always been a cautious, feeling-his-way kind of person, until he's comfortable with the parameters and knowing, from his own exploration, what can happen and how it works. So, I guess it really shouldn't surprise me that he tends in a phonics, sounding-out kind of direction. Seeing it all unfold sure is wonderful, though... It makes me excited to see what's coming next!

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".
.
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.

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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....