So the school year starts for my kids later this week. Last week the fun started, of course, when I took the kids shopping for school supplies (Doodlebug will need more next week after his teachers send home lists for individual classes) and when I picked up Doodlebug's schedule from the middle school.
That was fun.
NOT.
As you may or may not recall, I spent quite a bit of time earlier in the year working with the school system to ensure that Doodlebug would have proper classes and interventions in place by the time he set foot into the school this fall. We had a final meeting the last week of the 2013-2014 school year to finalize everything and to make sure that everyone was on the same page. I remembered feeling hesitant around the school counselor's level of commitment, but there was little I could do... until I picked up the schedule last week and saw that there was nary a single pre-AP class on it.
Not. Freaking. Acceptable.
Thankfully the same counselor was the one who handed me the schedule, and so I very kindly but firmly reminded him of our handy-dandy little meeting, and he asked me to fill out a schedule change request slip and said he'd see what he could do and we could pick up a new schedule on the first day of school. Not feeling particularly confident, I came home and shot the psychologist an e-mail to give him a heads-up on the situation. He replied back and said it wasn't usually inside his purview to check into class schedules but he'd see what he could do as well.
It is with great pleasure that I can say that tonight, when we went to meet the teachers (which Doodlebug was walking into without knowing a schedule, which was driving me batty since I know he needs to know where to go BEFORE the first day), a new schedule was waiting. I've not breathed such a sigh of relief in a long time. We were able to walk Doodlebug's schedule, meet his teachers and see the classrooms, and get contact information for the teachers so I could send them e-mails about the 504 plan and provide my contact information, just in case. He also scored a better elective class for him, too, I think - technology instead of art.
Of course, his locker didn't work, but there's always a hitch... and I'd rather the hitch be about a locker than an entire schedule.
We met Boo's teacher tonight, too, and I think her class will be a good one. This teacher has a master's degree, but this is probably her second year teaching. So we'll see, but I'm optimistic. Thankfully Boo is a lot more flexible in how things work.
So school starts soon. It will be weird having the kids out of the house all day, but I think it will be a good experience all around.
Showing posts with label school. Show all posts
Showing posts with label school. Show all posts
Tuesday, August 19, 2014
Thursday, May 15, 2014
I am NOT a Saleswoman
I went upstairs and started going through the school room today. Yes, I could have waited until later in the summer to do this, but A) that room gets pretty warm in the mornings and then the whole upstairs is warm in the afternoons when it's hot in an Oklahoma summer and B) people are curriculum shopping for next year NOW, and they won't be when it's July. So I figured I'd get 'er dun.
Anyway, so the actual purging of the shelves didn't take too long. There was, naturally, a giant pile of books and papers that had been used or saved in the binders that were overflowing from all the work we'd finished throughout the year. And by giant pile, this pile was - IS, because I haven't moved it yet - a foot deep in the middle and probably 3-4' in diameter. PILE, I tell you. It was a PILE.
Then there was the pile of things to get rid of. I'll come back to that in a minute.
Then I went into the closet and pretended I couldn't see the fact that my children had totally trashed it and took out all the extra resources, all the curricula that I'd been saving in case I needed it for Boo, and went through that. All the resources went onto the bookshelves where curricula had sat before, so that now we have a shelf of history materials, a shelf of literature/writing resources and math manipulatives, and a shelf of science books. The kids already have their own dictionaries and thesauruses that sit under their desks, and there are a few books that don't fit on the shelves, so they sit next to the bookshelves… I may move those up to the top just so they aren't sitting next to the trash can where the electric pencil sharpener gets dumped, but we'll see.
Finally, I took down some of the posters from the walls, put up a few new ones, and then went through the posters to see what I wanted to keep and what I no longer wanted, and I added the latter to the pile of curricula to get rid of.
Then I made the fatal mistake of not writing it all down. You'd think that being as pedantic as I am, I'd know to make a list. But no. My brain was - IS - so done that I just thought, "Oh, yeah, I'll remember." I posted a list of all the posters on a local homeschool curriculum group and told folks they were free - I had gotten them for free and just wanted them gone, honestly - and then posted in another group that I had a bunch of stuff to get rid of.
After that, I walked out of the room. Fatal mistake. We ate lunch, and I sent the kids up to turn the closet back into some semblance of normalcy. I got on the computer again to see if there had been any nibbles… and that's when the trouble started.
For the record, do not allow your children to read you the titles and information off of the sides of books. It does not matter how literate they are, they will screw up. And then you will pass bad information on to prospective curriculum buyers - TWICE, at least - and then you'll go upstairs to start sorting through things for yourself and realize the errors and have to go back and eat your words. Twice, at least.
Clearly I should not be allowed to sell things when my mind is not as organized as it normally is. This, people, THIS is why I'm normally anal retentive to an insane degree. At this point, I *do* have a list of what I'm selling and most of the prices figured out (would've been smart to figure those out before posting, too, but again, I'm not so bright today), but I still have to keep them all straight.
Now I just hope I don't send the wrong items to the wrong people. Can you tell I've never worked retail?
Back to it. Let's see what I can confuse now ;)
Anyway, so the actual purging of the shelves didn't take too long. There was, naturally, a giant pile of books and papers that had been used or saved in the binders that were overflowing from all the work we'd finished throughout the year. And by giant pile, this pile was - IS, because I haven't moved it yet - a foot deep in the middle and probably 3-4' in diameter. PILE, I tell you. It was a PILE.
Then there was the pile of things to get rid of. I'll come back to that in a minute.
Then I went into the closet and pretended I couldn't see the fact that my children had totally trashed it and took out all the extra resources, all the curricula that I'd been saving in case I needed it for Boo, and went through that. All the resources went onto the bookshelves where curricula had sat before, so that now we have a shelf of history materials, a shelf of literature/writing resources and math manipulatives, and a shelf of science books. The kids already have their own dictionaries and thesauruses that sit under their desks, and there are a few books that don't fit on the shelves, so they sit next to the bookshelves… I may move those up to the top just so they aren't sitting next to the trash can where the electric pencil sharpener gets dumped, but we'll see.
Finally, I took down some of the posters from the walls, put up a few new ones, and then went through the posters to see what I wanted to keep and what I no longer wanted, and I added the latter to the pile of curricula to get rid of.
Then I made the fatal mistake of not writing it all down. You'd think that being as pedantic as I am, I'd know to make a list. But no. My brain was - IS - so done that I just thought, "Oh, yeah, I'll remember." I posted a list of all the posters on a local homeschool curriculum group and told folks they were free - I had gotten them for free and just wanted them gone, honestly - and then posted in another group that I had a bunch of stuff to get rid of.
After that, I walked out of the room. Fatal mistake. We ate lunch, and I sent the kids up to turn the closet back into some semblance of normalcy. I got on the computer again to see if there had been any nibbles… and that's when the trouble started.
For the record, do not allow your children to read you the titles and information off of the sides of books. It does not matter how literate they are, they will screw up. And then you will pass bad information on to prospective curriculum buyers - TWICE, at least - and then you'll go upstairs to start sorting through things for yourself and realize the errors and have to go back and eat your words. Twice, at least.
Clearly I should not be allowed to sell things when my mind is not as organized as it normally is. This, people, THIS is why I'm normally anal retentive to an insane degree. At this point, I *do* have a list of what I'm selling and most of the prices figured out (would've been smart to figure those out before posting, too, but again, I'm not so bright today), but I still have to keep them all straight.
Now I just hope I don't send the wrong items to the wrong people. Can you tell I've never worked retail?
Back to it. Let's see what I can confuse now ;)
Friday, May 9, 2014
Done
And so, with that, we are done.
It seemed very anticlimactic.
Boo finished up grammar; Doodlebug recited the last poem he chose to memorize this year - Poe's "The Raven."
They covered their interest week topics. Boo told us all about the differences between turtles and tortoises and some of their body features and dietary choices. Doodlebug made "Clue" cards and substituted them for the weapons, and as we played, he told us about the symptoms and chemical make-up (if there was one) of each poison.
They performed their play last night, in four acts. It was really cute, and I may try to post video of it soon. It involved a cowboy (played by Boo) and a magic talking snake (voiced by Doodlebug), and I loved it.
Now they're coloring mandalas, just for the fun of it.
I've really enjoyed having them at home. It seems bizarre to say that I'm no longer a homeschooler, because I still feel like one since they're still here, at home, with me. But now that we're done with this school year, I guess I'm kind of… not.
I'm so stinking proud of my kids and all they've learned. It hasn't always been easy or fun, but we've done it. I'm going to have a few days where I wonder if I'm making the right choice letting them go to public school this fall, but I know I am. It is time.
This blog will continue, but obviously it won't be a homeschooling blog any more. Thanks for following!
It seemed very anticlimactic.
Boo finished up grammar; Doodlebug recited the last poem he chose to memorize this year - Poe's "The Raven."
They covered their interest week topics. Boo told us all about the differences between turtles and tortoises and some of their body features and dietary choices. Doodlebug made "Clue" cards and substituted them for the weapons, and as we played, he told us about the symptoms and chemical make-up (if there was one) of each poison.
They performed their play last night, in four acts. It was really cute, and I may try to post video of it soon. It involved a cowboy (played by Boo) and a magic talking snake (voiced by Doodlebug), and I loved it.
Now they're coloring mandalas, just for the fun of it.
I've really enjoyed having them at home. It seems bizarre to say that I'm no longer a homeschooler, because I still feel like one since they're still here, at home, with me. But now that we're done with this school year, I guess I'm kind of… not.
I'm so stinking proud of my kids and all they've learned. It hasn't always been easy or fun, but we've done it. I'm going to have a few days where I wonder if I'm making the right choice letting them go to public school this fall, but I know I am. It is time.
This blog will continue, but obviously it won't be a homeschooling blog any more. Thanks for following!
Monday, May 5, 2014
The Final Week
We're in the final week of school now. We'll do a review week in July, but this is the last week I really have to go upstairs and do anything with the kids. It's also their last 'interest week,' where they get to pick a topic and study it on their own. Both kids have some grammar to finish, and I'm asking them both to keep working on math right up to the last day because that's something they'll lose if they don't use it, but they're just about done with everything else.
Except their play. I really can't wait to see their play. I'll take a video of that and post it after they perform it for us on Friday.
Anyway, because there's so little left to do, I have very little to do with them. We went to the library today to pick up books and videos on their chosen topics - turtles/tortoises for Boo and venom/poison for Doodlebug - but once they finish grammar in a day or two, they'll be working entirely independently. For the last two days of school, I will be utterly superfluous. Right now, for instance, both kids are parked on the loveseat with Tom the Bearded Dragon, and they're watching a video on venom. Boo is all curled up and totally disturbed, and Doodlebug and Tom are both watching with mouths agape. Boo came to me a few minutes before the video started to tell me she's learned the difference between turtles and tortoises already. They learn quickly.
I suppose, in many ways, it's a good thing that they can work so independently, that they don't need me. I've said before that it's bugging me how quickly I've become so useless to them. They only need me now to coordinate events with other parents, take them to and from things, and occasionally (OK, ALL THE FREAKING TIME) remind them to do this, that or the other. Still, it's going to be an odd summer since I will be, more or less, superfluous. I'll take them to the pool. I'll set up sleepovers, and we'll go see friends. We'll do things. But I won't really be necessary. OK, OK, I know that I really am necessary. They can't organize things themselves quite yet, and they certainly can't drive. But they can figure out things to do on their own. They fix their own meals and have finally learned to write things on the shopping list if we need them. They can do laundry and dishes, clean anything they can reach… if they could learn to do these things without being reminded, I really would be unnecessary around here.
It feels so odd to be ending this particular phase in my life. I've taught Doodlebug for five years and Boo for two. And I feel so completely and utterly lost now. Before, even though I haven't had any personal goals, that was okay because my goals had to be on hold while I made the kids' education my priority. Now, even though their education is still a priority, I'm handing over the reins and I'll have a few hours of peace and quiet each day.
This final week is messing with my head. Even though I have three more months before I really have to worry about what to do with myself, I'm already mulling possibilities. Instead of making early lesson plans, I have nothing. Instead of setting up a potential schedule, I'm wondering when the 2014-2015 school calendar will be out. It's a whole different life. And I'm not sure I'm ready for it yet.
Except their play. I really can't wait to see their play. I'll take a video of that and post it after they perform it for us on Friday.
Anyway, because there's so little left to do, I have very little to do with them. We went to the library today to pick up books and videos on their chosen topics - turtles/tortoises for Boo and venom/poison for Doodlebug - but once they finish grammar in a day or two, they'll be working entirely independently. For the last two days of school, I will be utterly superfluous. Right now, for instance, both kids are parked on the loveseat with Tom the Bearded Dragon, and they're watching a video on venom. Boo is all curled up and totally disturbed, and Doodlebug and Tom are both watching with mouths agape. Boo came to me a few minutes before the video started to tell me she's learned the difference between turtles and tortoises already. They learn quickly.
I suppose, in many ways, it's a good thing that they can work so independently, that they don't need me. I've said before that it's bugging me how quickly I've become so useless to them. They only need me now to coordinate events with other parents, take them to and from things, and occasionally (OK, ALL THE FREAKING TIME) remind them to do this, that or the other. Still, it's going to be an odd summer since I will be, more or less, superfluous. I'll take them to the pool. I'll set up sleepovers, and we'll go see friends. We'll do things. But I won't really be necessary. OK, OK, I know that I really am necessary. They can't organize things themselves quite yet, and they certainly can't drive. But they can figure out things to do on their own. They fix their own meals and have finally learned to write things on the shopping list if we need them. They can do laundry and dishes, clean anything they can reach… if they could learn to do these things without being reminded, I really would be unnecessary around here.
It feels so odd to be ending this particular phase in my life. I've taught Doodlebug for five years and Boo for two. And I feel so completely and utterly lost now. Before, even though I haven't had any personal goals, that was okay because my goals had to be on hold while I made the kids' education my priority. Now, even though their education is still a priority, I'm handing over the reins and I'll have a few hours of peace and quiet each day.
This final week is messing with my head. Even though I have three more months before I really have to worry about what to do with myself, I'm already mulling possibilities. Instead of making early lesson plans, I have nothing. Instead of setting up a potential schedule, I'm wondering when the 2014-2015 school calendar will be out. It's a whole different life. And I'm not sure I'm ready for it yet.
Monday, April 28, 2014
That Whole Unschooling Thing...
In theory, to make our legal count of 180 days, we have two more weeks of school, plus this week. So 14 days remaining.
However.
I'm done.
The kids are done.
I'm pretty sure the entire school room is done, because certain places - shelves, binders, etc. - have reached maximum capacity and have begun to spill over into new areas.
The kids have asked to take one week during their extra-long summer break to do a review week, so really we only have to have 9 days left. I'm cool with that. Very cool. Practically chill.
When it came time to make my weekly lesson plans yesterday, I couldn't muster the energy. I didn't want to climb the stairs and repeat the same process I've done for the last 33 weeks, give or take. I knew the kids didn't really want to do the work.
And so I said to Oz, "Y'know what? If they were in public school, the last 2-3 weeks would be field days, field trips, awards ceremonies, movie days, end-of-year tests, and general shenanigans. So phthththththth."
Today when the kids dutifully climbed the stairs to the school room and asked what they were going to do first, I shocked them. I pulled a piece of paper out of the printer and made two lists. One list was for Doodlebug, the other for Boo. These lists contain everything that I'd still like them to finish in the next two weeks - grammar books for both kids, a couple of math assignments for Boo (Doodlebug is thoroughly enjoying his pre-algebra and has asked to go ahead and continue despite the probable futility of the effort), the play that they're creating/writing, and some reading. That's about it. I mean, there are a couple of other little things to wrap up, but those are the big items.
The kids were thrilled. They worked nonstop from 8:30 to noon, when I told them to put away the stuff and eat lunch. And after they ate lunch, they went back upstairs… and kept going! Boo pulled out a stack of posters and learned about the battles of the Revolutionary War. Doodlebug yanked out a book about drawing comic strips and made some really cute ones. Boo wrote a letter to her friend, addressed the envelope, and mailed it. And I sat on my backside and didn't have to do a thing! It was glorious.
I told Oz about it when he got home, and he started laughing and said, "So you're unschooling now, are you??"
It's only taken me five years to let go and unschool for a whole nine days. I might be a bit of a control freak. But for that amount of time, yes… yes, I suppose I am.
However.
I'm done.
The kids are done.
I'm pretty sure the entire school room is done, because certain places - shelves, binders, etc. - have reached maximum capacity and have begun to spill over into new areas.
The kids have asked to take one week during their extra-long summer break to do a review week, so really we only have to have 9 days left. I'm cool with that. Very cool. Practically chill.
When it came time to make my weekly lesson plans yesterday, I couldn't muster the energy. I didn't want to climb the stairs and repeat the same process I've done for the last 33 weeks, give or take. I knew the kids didn't really want to do the work.
And so I said to Oz, "Y'know what? If they were in public school, the last 2-3 weeks would be field days, field trips, awards ceremonies, movie days, end-of-year tests, and general shenanigans. So phthththththth."
Today when the kids dutifully climbed the stairs to the school room and asked what they were going to do first, I shocked them. I pulled a piece of paper out of the printer and made two lists. One list was for Doodlebug, the other for Boo. These lists contain everything that I'd still like them to finish in the next two weeks - grammar books for both kids, a couple of math assignments for Boo (Doodlebug is thoroughly enjoying his pre-algebra and has asked to go ahead and continue despite the probable futility of the effort), the play that they're creating/writing, and some reading. That's about it. I mean, there are a couple of other little things to wrap up, but those are the big items.
The kids were thrilled. They worked nonstop from 8:30 to noon, when I told them to put away the stuff and eat lunch. And after they ate lunch, they went back upstairs… and kept going! Boo pulled out a stack of posters and learned about the battles of the Revolutionary War. Doodlebug yanked out a book about drawing comic strips and made some really cute ones. Boo wrote a letter to her friend, addressed the envelope, and mailed it. And I sat on my backside and didn't have to do a thing! It was glorious.
I told Oz about it when he got home, and he started laughing and said, "So you're unschooling now, are you??"
It's only taken me five years to let go and unschool for a whole nine days. I might be a bit of a control freak. But for that amount of time, yes… yes, I suppose I am.
Thursday, April 24, 2014
Because Random Thursday
A few little tidbits of no importance to get you through this Thursday:
1. Doodlebug finished Math-U-See Zeta last week. This week he picked up the Art of Problem Solving prealgebra book. And then I watched his brain explode. I have to admit, it's not an easy book to follow. It starts off by saying, "Hey look, we're going to introduce you to proofs!" and then uses half a dozen of them in the first few pages. Whew. Overwhelming. But he's starting to get the hang of it. (I say that, and he just handed me a paper of incorrect answers... be right back while we figure these out together.) I'm happy for him to do as much as he wants in the remaining three weeks we have in our school year, and if he loses it over summer, he loses it. I'm not getting rid of the book for a while yet.
2. We meet with the school psychologist again next week to go over the test results of both kids' testing. Apparently the forms that Oz and I filled out have triggered some extra testing in a couple of areas - I assume in the autism spectrum and/or ADHD category - so he'll be doing that, too. I'm really, really glad we're not trying to do all this in the middle of next school year. Getting the process started early has been nice. Here's hoping we can get the 504 set up prior to August.
3. Boo has her spring violin recital tonight. At this point, she's kind of blasé about the whole thing. Can't blame her; I rather am, too. She wants to take some time over summer break to work up some fun stuff. I'm looking forward to that as well.
4. I went to a gym for the first time in my life on Monday night. It wasn't bad. I can't decide if I want to join or not. On the one hand, if I'm paying for it, I know I'll go, and I'll work out, and I do want to get in shape. On the other hand, I'm not sure I got any better workout than I do here at home when I do make myself exercise. I'm debating.
5. Summer break is going to be interminably long this year. I warned Oz last night that the household may descend into actual chaos since I'll have the kids for three months straight with little to no structure whatsoever. Doodlebug has one week of camp, and right now Boo is set up for one week of morning acting camp and wants to attend a horse-riding day camp, and I may even let her sign up for a one- or two-day sewing camp, because all of those together roughly equal the total of the cost for Doodlebug's away camp, but regardless of how many camps I sign them up for, I'm going to have at least one child with me at all times. Last year they were both gone for a week - well, Doodlebug was at away camp and Boo was at a day camp - and I was insanely productive during those days. I cleaned out closets, painted the school room, ran a bunch of errands that needed to be run but that nobody wanted to run with me, and met up with a friend or two for coffee sans kids... it was glorious. I'm rather sad that I won't get that break this year.
6. Boo has suddenly forgotten how to math. Seriously, in the last week all mathematical ability has flown out the window. She's been sitting there staring at her math paper for 45 minutes. She won't ask for help. She won't let herself take a break. She won't try, either, though. She just sits and stares and has convinced herself it's all too hard. I'm chalking it up to end-of-year doneness and the cold she's been fighting, because I don't think there's anything else going on. She knows the stuff; she's just having a mental block.
7. People around here are preemptively freaking out about a storm system that's supposed to move through over the weekend. I feel no such mental stress. I'll clean out the closet under the stairs on Sunday if it comes to that, but I'm not very worried. Yet. When the red and black start to crop on the radar, then I'll worry. Ain't nobody got time for worrying now!
8. I cancelled the boy's orthodontic appointment that was scheduled for early May. We have decided to nix the braces for now. Just easier all 'round, and if he wants them when he's an adult, fine. Right now it'd just be for cosmetic purposes and he doesn't care.
And now the boy wants to use the computer for writing. I s'pose I should let him, huh?
1. Doodlebug finished Math-U-See Zeta last week. This week he picked up the Art of Problem Solving prealgebra book. And then I watched his brain explode. I have to admit, it's not an easy book to follow. It starts off by saying, "Hey look, we're going to introduce you to proofs!" and then uses half a dozen of them in the first few pages. Whew. Overwhelming. But he's starting to get the hang of it. (I say that, and he just handed me a paper of incorrect answers... be right back while we figure these out together.) I'm happy for him to do as much as he wants in the remaining three weeks we have in our school year, and if he loses it over summer, he loses it. I'm not getting rid of the book for a while yet.
2. We meet with the school psychologist again next week to go over the test results of both kids' testing. Apparently the forms that Oz and I filled out have triggered some extra testing in a couple of areas - I assume in the autism spectrum and/or ADHD category - so he'll be doing that, too. I'm really, really glad we're not trying to do all this in the middle of next school year. Getting the process started early has been nice. Here's hoping we can get the 504 set up prior to August.
3. Boo has her spring violin recital tonight. At this point, she's kind of blasé about the whole thing. Can't blame her; I rather am, too. She wants to take some time over summer break to work up some fun stuff. I'm looking forward to that as well.
4. I went to a gym for the first time in my life on Monday night. It wasn't bad. I can't decide if I want to join or not. On the one hand, if I'm paying for it, I know I'll go, and I'll work out, and I do want to get in shape. On the other hand, I'm not sure I got any better workout than I do here at home when I do make myself exercise. I'm debating.
5. Summer break is going to be interminably long this year. I warned Oz last night that the household may descend into actual chaos since I'll have the kids for three months straight with little to no structure whatsoever. Doodlebug has one week of camp, and right now Boo is set up for one week of morning acting camp and wants to attend a horse-riding day camp, and I may even let her sign up for a one- or two-day sewing camp, because all of those together roughly equal the total of the cost for Doodlebug's away camp, but regardless of how many camps I sign them up for, I'm going to have at least one child with me at all times. Last year they were both gone for a week - well, Doodlebug was at away camp and Boo was at a day camp - and I was insanely productive during those days. I cleaned out closets, painted the school room, ran a bunch of errands that needed to be run but that nobody wanted to run with me, and met up with a friend or two for coffee sans kids... it was glorious. I'm rather sad that I won't get that break this year.
6. Boo has suddenly forgotten how to math. Seriously, in the last week all mathematical ability has flown out the window. She's been sitting there staring at her math paper for 45 minutes. She won't ask for help. She won't let herself take a break. She won't try, either, though. She just sits and stares and has convinced herself it's all too hard. I'm chalking it up to end-of-year doneness and the cold she's been fighting, because I don't think there's anything else going on. She knows the stuff; she's just having a mental block.
7. People around here are preemptively freaking out about a storm system that's supposed to move through over the weekend. I feel no such mental stress. I'll clean out the closet under the stairs on Sunday if it comes to that, but I'm not very worried. Yet. When the red and black start to crop on the radar, then I'll worry. Ain't nobody got time for worrying now!
8. I cancelled the boy's orthodontic appointment that was scheduled for early May. We have decided to nix the braces for now. Just easier all 'round, and if he wants them when he's an adult, fine. Right now it'd just be for cosmetic purposes and he doesn't care.
And now the boy wants to use the computer for writing. I s'pose I should let him, huh?
Monday, April 7, 2014
Ugh, Monday
[WARNING: PROFANITY AHEAD.]
Doodlebug is in his room right now. Theoretically he's working on his writing, but I'm pretty sure he's taking a nap because I'm pretty sure he's been up in the middle of the night on electronics or eating or doing something he knows he's not supposed to do. One day I swear I'm going to install a motion-sensing camera outside his room with an app that links to my phone so it'll ding and wake me up whenever he starts his nocturnal wanderings.Or not. I like sleep a lot more now than I used to.
Anyway, he's in his room theoretically working because he decided this morning was a good time to conduct an experiment with mom.
-----
Title: FINE
Materials:
-- One PMSing mother
-- Monday
-- Tweenage attitude
-- Grammar
Objective: To see how far one can push one's mother before she threatens actual bodily harm.
Hypothesis: I suspect it will take less than 30 seconds, if experiment is conducted properly, before Mom totally loses her shit.
Procedure:
1. Half-ass your way through a grammar assignment. Make sure to ask Mom to help you complete the work before you've actually read the lesson to see if she's as big a sucker as you think she is.
2. Turn in said half-assed grammar assignment. Start throwing a giant tantrum when you get approximately 20% of the questions wrong (mostly because you didn't read the lesson).
3. Ignore Mom when she tries to get your attention to calm you down.
4. Start yelling, "FINE," repeatedly at the top of your lungs every time your mother opens her mouth.
Results: I was allowed to select between Option A: GET IN YOUR ROOM and Option B: BECAUSE IF YOU DON'T GET OUT OF MY SIGHT NOW, I'M GOING TO PUT YOU THERE MYSELF. AND DO NOT COME OUT UNTIL YOUR WORK IS DONE AND YOU CAN STOP INTERRUPTING PEOPLE WHO ARE TRYING TO HELP YOU!!!
Observations: My hypothesis was correct. While I did not have a stopwatch during the experiment, I would estimate that from the time I initiated Step #4 to the time that I received results was approximately 25 seconds.
Conclusion: Mom is nuts.
-----
Clearly all this is my fault. And yeah, I lost my temper at the dude. But for heaven's sake, it's ridiculous, isn't it? You try to be nice, you try to help them, and all they want to do is pick a fight. And I'm really, really not good at backing down when someone wants to throw their hat in the ring. I'm better than I used to be, but if you act like a turd, things will not go well for you. I'm just sayin'.
So he's in his room until he can get his crap done.
Boo is fine. She's finished school and practiced her violin and is currently researching meteorology just for the fun of it.
-----
Got a call this morning from the ophthalmology office as well. Doodlebug has an appointment with the retinal specialist on Friday morning at an hour so ungodly that I'm pretty sure the doctor is coming in early just to fit us in. I'm grateful, but I am not going to be human; I'm usually not even out of bed at the time of that appointment. I'm just hopeful that I can figure out how to program the coffee pot so that I can at least stumble out of the house with a life-giving beverage in my hand. I need the ability to ask coherent, intelligent-sounding questions.
-----
Hello, Monday.
Sunday, April 6, 2014
You Mean the Weekend is Over Already?!?
Boo and I were sitting side-by-side while I drove to the grocery store today (and for all you car-seat-lovin', kid-in-the-front-seat-hatin' folks out there, she's 4'10" and 85 lbs.) when we passed by a church that had obviously just finished its service, and cars were streaming out of the parking lot.
"I guess it is that time," I remarked to Boo, and she gazed at the church for a moment. Then she asked, "It's Sunday?"
Yes, my dear, I told her. It's Sunday. This is why we didn't have school yesterday and why we slept till 10 a.m. and then went to a picnic to meet my brother-in-law's girlfriend (very nice) and then came home and oozed until I left to visit another friend for the sake of hanging out and chatting. It's why I made sure the grocery shopping was done and the lesson plans and worksheets are printed and the house is at least partially presentable, with the exception of the formal dining room where the refrigerator leaked under the wall and under the carpet and we've basically taken the room apart to dry things out and are just thankful that there doesn't seem to be any real damage. So yes… it's Sunday. Time is flying.
That said, I cannot wait until summer vacation gets here. We only have six more weeks of school left, and after that, they'll get the longest summer vacation they'll ever have in their lives. We'll be done May 16. Ordinarily we would go back in early July, thus giving the kids about two solid months of break. But since Boo (and probably Doodlebug) will be attending public school in the fall, they won't go back until the middle of August. They will actually have an entire three months of vacation.
I'm going to need all the heavenly help I can get, because the preadolescent masses are going to get bored.
Part of me wants to get these last few weeks over as quickly as possible. We'll wrap up Math-U-See Zeta and give Doodlebug a brief start on pre-algebra, make sure Boo has her division facts down, do a writing project or two (I'm going to see if the kids are interested in writing a play), finish studying the human body, do a study of ancient Rome, and polish off their grammar books… and that's about it.
The other part of me never wants this school year to end. Boo is still very excited about the idea of going to school next fall, even if she experiences occasional bouts of nerves about meeting new people and going to a new school with new routines and new teachers, but I think she'll be fine and really, if she's honest, so does she. I suspect she'll run into some girl drama sooner or later, but it's inevitable. She would run into that even if she hadn't been homeschooled. Doodlebug is still not particularly keen on the idea, but he's coming around. The other day he asked if he made some new friends if I'd let him play Minecraft with them, and of course I said yes. Just not on the computer and possibly not HERE. Not until he can demonstrate long-term responsibility. But he's working on it. I think his problems, if there are any, will be immediately obvious and he'll settle in better the longer he's there. It could just be wishful thinking on my part, of course. We'll see.
The point is, time is flying. Doodlebug is half-asleep on the couch because I suspect he's about to experience another growth spurt; Boo has changed her earrings four times this week (which is more than she's changed them in the last four years combined, I think) and painted her fingernails all by herself the other day. They weren't perfect, but they weren't bad, either. They're growing up, whether I like it or not, and I've had more discussions with more moms about bras and periods and crushes and funky boy-smell in the last month than I've ever had.
And so it isn't just that the weekend is over already. It's that this phase of life is almost over. It's just all going too quickly. I want to live in the present, seize each moment, but I'm not very good at that. Still, I'm going to do my best between now and May, and then between May and August, to seize what I can.
What do you do when you feel like an entire segment of your life is coming to an end? Do you mourn? Get nostalgic? Worry? Get excited? What do you do?
"I guess it is that time," I remarked to Boo, and she gazed at the church for a moment. Then she asked, "It's Sunday?"
Yes, my dear, I told her. It's Sunday. This is why we didn't have school yesterday and why we slept till 10 a.m. and then went to a picnic to meet my brother-in-law's girlfriend (very nice) and then came home and oozed until I left to visit another friend for the sake of hanging out and chatting. It's why I made sure the grocery shopping was done and the lesson plans and worksheets are printed and the house is at least partially presentable, with the exception of the formal dining room where the refrigerator leaked under the wall and under the carpet and we've basically taken the room apart to dry things out and are just thankful that there doesn't seem to be any real damage. So yes… it's Sunday. Time is flying.
That said, I cannot wait until summer vacation gets here. We only have six more weeks of school left, and after that, they'll get the longest summer vacation they'll ever have in their lives. We'll be done May 16. Ordinarily we would go back in early July, thus giving the kids about two solid months of break. But since Boo (and probably Doodlebug) will be attending public school in the fall, they won't go back until the middle of August. They will actually have an entire three months of vacation.
I'm going to need all the heavenly help I can get, because the preadolescent masses are going to get bored.
Part of me wants to get these last few weeks over as quickly as possible. We'll wrap up Math-U-See Zeta and give Doodlebug a brief start on pre-algebra, make sure Boo has her division facts down, do a writing project or two (I'm going to see if the kids are interested in writing a play), finish studying the human body, do a study of ancient Rome, and polish off their grammar books… and that's about it.
The other part of me never wants this school year to end. Boo is still very excited about the idea of going to school next fall, even if she experiences occasional bouts of nerves about meeting new people and going to a new school with new routines and new teachers, but I think she'll be fine and really, if she's honest, so does she. I suspect she'll run into some girl drama sooner or later, but it's inevitable. She would run into that even if she hadn't been homeschooled. Doodlebug is still not particularly keen on the idea, but he's coming around. The other day he asked if he made some new friends if I'd let him play Minecraft with them, and of course I said yes. Just not on the computer and possibly not HERE. Not until he can demonstrate long-term responsibility. But he's working on it. I think his problems, if there are any, will be immediately obvious and he'll settle in better the longer he's there. It could just be wishful thinking on my part, of course. We'll see.
The point is, time is flying. Doodlebug is half-asleep on the couch because I suspect he's about to experience another growth spurt; Boo has changed her earrings four times this week (which is more than she's changed them in the last four years combined, I think) and painted her fingernails all by herself the other day. They weren't perfect, but they weren't bad, either. They're growing up, whether I like it or not, and I've had more discussions with more moms about bras and periods and crushes and funky boy-smell in the last month than I've ever had.
And so it isn't just that the weekend is over already. It's that this phase of life is almost over. It's just all going too quickly. I want to live in the present, seize each moment, but I'm not very good at that. Still, I'm going to do my best between now and May, and then between May and August, to seize what I can.
What do you do when you feel like an entire segment of your life is coming to an end? Do you mourn? Get nostalgic? Worry? Get excited? What do you do?
Tuesday, February 4, 2014
Newspaper Articles
Once upon a time, long long ago and a couple miles away, I was a newspaper reporter. I was the lifestyles reporter, which meant I didn't often cover hard news (elections were about as close as I got, with rare exceptions), but some of the lessons I learned stuck with me. When I was making lesson plans for the year, I thought, "Wouldn't it be neat to have the kids write a newspaper article?"
They thought so, too. When I started talking about the idea last week, I asked them to decide who they would want to interview, suspecting that they would want to interview Oz's family about living in Australia/emigrating to the U.S. or calling my mom to ask her about growing up in the '60s or even just interrogating me or Oz about some topic or other.
I couldn't have been more wrong. Doodlebug elected to interview a neighbor of ours who happens to be a state representative, and Boo wanted to talk to her violin teacher about being a professional musician and teacher. I was surprised, but I called and e-mailed and got them both set up with interviews.
Before their interviews we discussed the importance of getting accurate quotes, how newspaper articles differ from creative writing ('said' vs. any other synonym, for example, and using full/last names, and all the paragraphs). Today we sat down with their notes and talked about finding the most important facts, leads (make the reader ask a question), headlines (action verbs!), and adding background information. Then I worked with the kids to write their articles. If you've ever looked into Brave Writer, this would definitely have fallen under the 'Partnership Writing' category, particularly given the number of questions I answered during the process.
Anyway, they kids finished their articles.
Here are the results:
State representative finds job satisfying
by Doodlebug
Mark McCullough is a hardworking figure in Oklahoma politics.
McCullough is a state representative from Sapulpa. He is in his fourth term as representative. He enjoys helping solve complex problems and helping constituents solve their problems.
"It is a great honor to serve the community in which I grew up," he said.
He is very content as a representative. He studies policy, makes laws, and helps constituents on a daily basis.
"It is very satisfying, personally satisfying," he said.
To become a representative, candidates have to file for office. To get elected they normally have to go on a campaign. They have to win the primary election, maybe a runoff election, and the general election to finally become a representative.
-----
Professional violinist shares love of instrument
by Boo
Why would anybody want to spend hours every day just practicing with an instrument?
Sue Loomis is a professional violinist who likes to teach people to play the violin to share its sweet sound. She also likes to see new people learn new things.
Loomis took up the violin when she was 10. When she heard another violinist play, she wanted to do it as well. In college she earned a bachelor's degree in math but continued to get a master's degree in music and violin performance.
"At every step I had something to do," she said.
Loomis is very busy all the time. She works at the youth symphony and teaches people of all ages.
"I wouldn't change anything that I've done," she said.
They thought so, too. When I started talking about the idea last week, I asked them to decide who they would want to interview, suspecting that they would want to interview Oz's family about living in Australia/emigrating to the U.S. or calling my mom to ask her about growing up in the '60s or even just interrogating me or Oz about some topic or other.
I couldn't have been more wrong. Doodlebug elected to interview a neighbor of ours who happens to be a state representative, and Boo wanted to talk to her violin teacher about being a professional musician and teacher. I was surprised, but I called and e-mailed and got them both set up with interviews.
Before their interviews we discussed the importance of getting accurate quotes, how newspaper articles differ from creative writing ('said' vs. any other synonym, for example, and using full/last names, and all the paragraphs). Today we sat down with their notes and talked about finding the most important facts, leads (make the reader ask a question), headlines (action verbs!), and adding background information. Then I worked with the kids to write their articles. If you've ever looked into Brave Writer, this would definitely have fallen under the 'Partnership Writing' category, particularly given the number of questions I answered during the process.
Anyway, they kids finished their articles.
Here are the results:
State representative finds job satisfying
by Doodlebug
Mark McCullough is a hardworking figure in Oklahoma politics.
McCullough is a state representative from Sapulpa. He is in his fourth term as representative. He enjoys helping solve complex problems and helping constituents solve their problems.
"It is a great honor to serve the community in which I grew up," he said.
He is very content as a representative. He studies policy, makes laws, and helps constituents on a daily basis.
"It is very satisfying, personally satisfying," he said.
To become a representative, candidates have to file for office. To get elected they normally have to go on a campaign. They have to win the primary election, maybe a runoff election, and the general election to finally become a representative.
-----
Professional violinist shares love of instrument
by Boo
Why would anybody want to spend hours every day just practicing with an instrument?
Sue Loomis is a professional violinist who likes to teach people to play the violin to share its sweet sound. She also likes to see new people learn new things.
Loomis took up the violin when she was 10. When she heard another violinist play, she wanted to do it as well. In college she earned a bachelor's degree in math but continued to get a master's degree in music and violin performance.
"At every step I had something to do," she said.
Loomis is very busy all the time. She works at the youth symphony and teaches people of all ages.
"I wouldn't change anything that I've done," she said.
Tuesday, January 28, 2014
I Made the Call
I called the school. It actually happened. I picked up the phone, navigated my way through a horrifically-designed phone menu (seriously, people, when you say 'Press 0 for the receptionist, press # to hear the menu again,' pressing 0 should not get you the same thing as #), and finally reached a human being who directed me to someone who, while not the actual person/s I needed to reach, was someone who could at least take my info and pass it on to the right folks.
I hated making that call.
I hated it primarily because I hate making phone calls to people, especially when I don't even know who I need to talk to.
I hated it because it makes it all very real, that Boo (and probably Doodlebug) will be going to public school this fall. I know it's what she wants, and I know that it's best for her because she's so dreadfully lonely here and the older she gets, the less her brother will be able to fill the playmate role to her satisfaction. She's too social to be happy at home in the long run. I could arrange for her to attend a co-op, but I like the idea of a more diverse population and not having to sign a Statement of Faith just to be in 'the club.' That ruffles my feathers. I had friends of all different backgrounds in school, and I don't want her missing that.
I hated it because even though I don't have a problem with her going back logically, it tears at my heartstrings to think that she's taking a little step out of the nest. Yes, I'll be up at the school(s) often, I'm sure, just like I was when she attended private school, but it's still just not the same. I'll be helping her with homework someone else assigned and gearing her up for testing in the spring so that someone else can get the credit.
But it's done.
I talked to them, too, about testing to find out what grades the kids would be placed in, because right now I have absolutely nothing that they can officially use for that, and schools like documentation. And I asked them to share my number with the school psychologist so we can find out about IEP testing for Doodlebug, because we do not, in fact, have to wait until he's enrolled before getting that ball rolling.
I have started down the slippery slope. Thankfully there are several places in the ride where I can step off if I need to, but it's begun.
Yikes.
I hated making that call.
I hated it primarily because I hate making phone calls to people, especially when I don't even know who I need to talk to.
I hated it because it makes it all very real, that Boo (and probably Doodlebug) will be going to public school this fall. I know it's what she wants, and I know that it's best for her because she's so dreadfully lonely here and the older she gets, the less her brother will be able to fill the playmate role to her satisfaction. She's too social to be happy at home in the long run. I could arrange for her to attend a co-op, but I like the idea of a more diverse population and not having to sign a Statement of Faith just to be in 'the club.' That ruffles my feathers. I had friends of all different backgrounds in school, and I don't want her missing that.
I hated it because even though I don't have a problem with her going back logically, it tears at my heartstrings to think that she's taking a little step out of the nest. Yes, I'll be up at the school(s) often, I'm sure, just like I was when she attended private school, but it's still just not the same. I'll be helping her with homework someone else assigned and gearing her up for testing in the spring so that someone else can get the credit.
But it's done.
I talked to them, too, about testing to find out what grades the kids would be placed in, because right now I have absolutely nothing that they can officially use for that, and schools like documentation. And I asked them to share my number with the school psychologist so we can find out about IEP testing for Doodlebug, because we do not, in fact, have to wait until he's enrolled before getting that ball rolling.
I have started down the slippery slope. Thankfully there are several places in the ride where I can step off if I need to, but it's begun.
Yikes.
Friday, January 24, 2014
Spoke Too Soon… and other Friday musings
I bragged about how well the week was going, and just like that, it all went straight down the crapper.
That's how Murphy works, kids. Never, ever tempt the Fates.
Anyway, the boy lost all interest in doing schoolwork on Wednesday and just recently, at 3:38 p.m. on Friday, finished his work for the week. He could've been done by 10 this morning, which would've given us time to go to our monthly art club meeting, out to lunch with friends, and possibly even to our weekly homeschool group meeting, but at 9:30 he was playing with the settings on the clothes dryer for no good reason other than to hear the machine ding and at 10 he was firmly ensconced on his beanbag, sulking because he hadn't studied his poem that he chose for memorization.
Suffice it to say this morning was quiet. I didn't even bother to fight with him. That takes too much energy.
I sat down with him for a chat sometime around 11:30, after he managed to finally read the science assignment (read a few pages from a book… took him all of 8 minutes once he decided to do it) and work on his poem.
I asked him if, perhaps, leaving the house and changing venues would help him, wondered if perhaps getting out for a little while might give him the opportunity to stop thinking about school so that he'd get a break and be able to re-focus when we came back.
He said he didn't think it would help. (I tend to agree.)
I asked him if he wanted to take his school stuff and work at the library for a while, not really leaving school behind but getting a fresh perspective.
He said that wouldn't work at all. (I totally agree… we went to a friend's house for coffee yesterday and I had the kids take their work, and he accomplished almost nothing outside of his familiar study hole.)
He finally told me that the reason he's been fighting school has been because he's tired and because he just. hates. school. Especially math. He hates math. Why does he have to learn this math? It's not even the new stuff; it's all the review. I pointed out that the math he's been learning now will, in fact, be very useful throughout his life and gave him several examples. He brightened up when he realized there is a method to the madness. I doubt it will be a long-term fix, but it did help him get through today's math paper with some degree of success.
I have all 20 fingers and toes crossed (it's really hard to type… and do you like all the parentheses today? I'm parenthetically-inclined this afternoon) that adding a low dose of a stimulant medication might help him. He likes math when he can focus. He's really, really good at math when he can focus. But he hasn't been able to focus at all lately, and so he hates math… and school in general, but math in particular. This loathing of learning really should've been my first clue that his focus level wasn't up to par, but I'm a little slow on the uptake, despite parenting this child for 11+ years. We visit his pediatrician on Monday to see about testing the waters with a new prescription to add to his non-stimulant. I totally hate drugging my kid, but when he can't learn, can't focus, can't become who and what he's capable of being because of neurological hangups, something has to give. Hopefully we'll just use the new medication for a year or so, get him back on track, and then phase it out like we've done in the past. Just something to get us over the hump.
Anyway, I asked him if there were any other problems with school other than math, and he admitted that even though he feels like he hates school all the time, it's almost entirely an avoidance of math and the fact that he just wants to get done as quickly as possible but without putting in any effort. So it's a motivation issue, not the curriculum. Not much I can do about that. The problem-solver in me dislikes this fact and wants to 'fix' it, but it's going to have to come from within him.
I did ask if he would stay home next year if he had the chance, and he said he most certainly would. He still absolutely hates the idea of homework and being stuck behind four walls until 3 or 4 p.m. But he also hadn't realized that once Boo goes to public school, we'll be following her schedule and he won't have the same overall schedule he has now. He didn't like that; it gave him serious pause for thought. I'm still going to call the curriculum specialist and special education coordinator for the local schools next week (meant to do it this week, but I hate making those sorts of phone calls and so procrastinated prodigiously) and find out where both kids stand, but if the boy begs and promises to actually work - and I'll admit that he worked much more effectively and better before his sister was here with him - he might get to stay home.
Maybe.
MAYBE.
Or maybe he really does need to see how other people work together, play together, and interact together. Maybe he does need a little peer pressure to get his work done and learn how to treat others, especially his long-suffering mother, with respect.
This child tears me up. I question everything with him. I'm not sure if it's because he's my first or because he's simply a difficult child to decipher, but the agony is killing me. I'm ready for a breather.
T.G.I.F!
That's how Murphy works, kids. Never, ever tempt the Fates.
Anyway, the boy lost all interest in doing schoolwork on Wednesday and just recently, at 3:38 p.m. on Friday, finished his work for the week. He could've been done by 10 this morning, which would've given us time to go to our monthly art club meeting, out to lunch with friends, and possibly even to our weekly homeschool group meeting, but at 9:30 he was playing with the settings on the clothes dryer for no good reason other than to hear the machine ding and at 10 he was firmly ensconced on his beanbag, sulking because he hadn't studied his poem that he chose for memorization.
Suffice it to say this morning was quiet. I didn't even bother to fight with him. That takes too much energy.
I sat down with him for a chat sometime around 11:30, after he managed to finally read the science assignment (read a few pages from a book… took him all of 8 minutes once he decided to do it) and work on his poem.
I asked him if, perhaps, leaving the house and changing venues would help him, wondered if perhaps getting out for a little while might give him the opportunity to stop thinking about school so that he'd get a break and be able to re-focus when we came back.
He said he didn't think it would help. (I tend to agree.)
I asked him if he wanted to take his school stuff and work at the library for a while, not really leaving school behind but getting a fresh perspective.
He said that wouldn't work at all. (I totally agree… we went to a friend's house for coffee yesterday and I had the kids take their work, and he accomplished almost nothing outside of his familiar study hole.)
He finally told me that the reason he's been fighting school has been because he's tired and because he just. hates. school. Especially math. He hates math. Why does he have to learn this math? It's not even the new stuff; it's all the review. I pointed out that the math he's been learning now will, in fact, be very useful throughout his life and gave him several examples. He brightened up when he realized there is a method to the madness. I doubt it will be a long-term fix, but it did help him get through today's math paper with some degree of success.
I have all 20 fingers and toes crossed (it's really hard to type… and do you like all the parentheses today? I'm parenthetically-inclined this afternoon) that adding a low dose of a stimulant medication might help him. He likes math when he can focus. He's really, really good at math when he can focus. But he hasn't been able to focus at all lately, and so he hates math… and school in general, but math in particular. This loathing of learning really should've been my first clue that his focus level wasn't up to par, but I'm a little slow on the uptake, despite parenting this child for 11+ years. We visit his pediatrician on Monday to see about testing the waters with a new prescription to add to his non-stimulant. I totally hate drugging my kid, but when he can't learn, can't focus, can't become who and what he's capable of being because of neurological hangups, something has to give. Hopefully we'll just use the new medication for a year or so, get him back on track, and then phase it out like we've done in the past. Just something to get us over the hump.
Anyway, I asked him if there were any other problems with school other than math, and he admitted that even though he feels like he hates school all the time, it's almost entirely an avoidance of math and the fact that he just wants to get done as quickly as possible but without putting in any effort. So it's a motivation issue, not the curriculum. Not much I can do about that. The problem-solver in me dislikes this fact and wants to 'fix' it, but it's going to have to come from within him.
I did ask if he would stay home next year if he had the chance, and he said he most certainly would. He still absolutely hates the idea of homework and being stuck behind four walls until 3 or 4 p.m. But he also hadn't realized that once Boo goes to public school, we'll be following her schedule and he won't have the same overall schedule he has now. He didn't like that; it gave him serious pause for thought. I'm still going to call the curriculum specialist and special education coordinator for the local schools next week (meant to do it this week, but I hate making those sorts of phone calls and so procrastinated prodigiously) and find out where both kids stand, but if the boy begs and promises to actually work - and I'll admit that he worked much more effectively and better before his sister was here with him - he might get to stay home.
Maybe.
MAYBE.
Or maybe he really does need to see how other people work together, play together, and interact together. Maybe he does need a little peer pressure to get his work done and learn how to treat others, especially his long-suffering mother, with respect.
This child tears me up. I question everything with him. I'm not sure if it's because he's my first or because he's simply a difficult child to decipher, but the agony is killing me. I'm ready for a breather.
T.G.I.F!
Tuesday, January 21, 2014
It Seems Like Magic
And just like that, this week is better. Compared to last week, it's phenomenal. I know it's only Tuesday evening, but Doodlebug has completed his work each day (before 2 p.m. yesterday and before 12:30 today!) and hasn't been fighting me. He told me over the weekend that he was going to try to follow his therapist's advice and "achieve neutrality toward school." He then told me that those weren't his therapist's exact words - those were "to try to be neutral about school" - but that he liked "achieve neutrality" better.
Bless his little nerd heart. :)
The fact that his math lesson this week is pre-algebraic in origin probably plays no small part in his positive feelings - I've suspected for ages that algebra would be right up his mathematical alley, and it seems I may have been right - but regardless, it's not just about math. Everything is getting done and done correctly.
This week is going so well that tomorrow I even have plans other than teaching school and getting the bare minimum done - I'm going to make some phone calls/appointments, bake banana bread, and wash my comforter. On Thursday the kids and I may even crash a friend's house for coffee. It's a thrilling life, I tell you, but it's nice to have the energy to do these things. When I'm fighting with someone 24/7, I have nothing left for anything else!
I've no idea if there's anything behind this switch other than a new week and a few potentially helpful phrases from his therapist. Could be hormones, could be nothing. Who knows. Doesn't matter. I'm just so relieved that last week is in the past, over and done with. Here's to another solid couple of days so the week can end positively.
Thanks for bearing with me and for all the sympathetic ears and messages. It's nice to know there are so many lovely, supportive folks out there.
Bless his little nerd heart. :)
The fact that his math lesson this week is pre-algebraic in origin probably plays no small part in his positive feelings - I've suspected for ages that algebra would be right up his mathematical alley, and it seems I may have been right - but regardless, it's not just about math. Everything is getting done and done correctly.
This week is going so well that tomorrow I even have plans other than teaching school and getting the bare minimum done - I'm going to make some phone calls/appointments, bake banana bread, and wash my comforter. On Thursday the kids and I may even crash a friend's house for coffee. It's a thrilling life, I tell you, but it's nice to have the energy to do these things. When I'm fighting with someone 24/7, I have nothing left for anything else!
I've no idea if there's anything behind this switch other than a new week and a few potentially helpful phrases from his therapist. Could be hormones, could be nothing. Who knows. Doesn't matter. I'm just so relieved that last week is in the past, over and done with. Here's to another solid couple of days so the week can end positively.
Thanks for bearing with me and for all the sympathetic ears and messages. It's nice to know there are so many lovely, supportive folks out there.
Wednesday, January 15, 2014
Keep Calm? You've GOT to be Kidding.
I'm trying to focus on the positive today. Find my inner Qi/Zen/peace.
Breathe in, breathe out.
This week has not improved with age.
The boy-o finished up yesterday's work at noon and still, at 4:25 p.m., has three more subjects of today's work to complete. This is actually an improvement over yesterday, when he didn't get Monday's work finished until noon-ish and we were home all morning. At least today he has the excuse that we were at the therapist's office for an hour.
(Note to self: This is not how you walk away from the negative. Breathe in, breathe out...)
Boo is doing well! She's done with today's work and has practiced her violin in her newly-rearranged room (the girl has her grandmother's room-rearranging tendencies and isn't happy unless everything is moved and redecorated regularly) with a checklist that her teacher has started giving out each week.
Doodlebug's therapist is still working out beautifully. We stumbled on an excellent one, and I couldn't be happier. He pulled me in first today, and we chatted about plans. We're still trying to manage Doodlebug's anger and energy into more productive, positive channels - not burying the anger, just handling it in a healthy fashion. Yesterday I couldn't open my mouth without ugliness coming out of his, and that's not helping anyone.
I mentioned today that we'll put him into public school this fall, and he wants to get Doodlebug's assessment/diagnoses updated, either through the school or through private channels, since the only one we have is from when he was 5 and which was done through an office that has since dissolved. Then he wants to see if we can get the IEP ball rolling before summer even gets here so that there's a firm plan in place before Doodlebug walks through the door in August.
I like this idea. A lot.
He also recognized, even before I said anything, that there's only a 50/50 shot of public school working out for Doodlebug. It made me happy that we were on the same page and recognized the same stumbling blocks and had the same thoughts about solutions for them. When a parent and a doctor are on the same page, good things happen.
I called Doodlebug's pediatrician yesterday and made an appointment to discuss adding a low-dose stimulant to his current Intuniv. Anything that can help him focus is, at this point, a positive step.
I'm making progress on my reading, my cross-stitch, and a couple other projects I wanted to tackle this month. Now if I can only get my car in for its detailing...
Several of my friends are having birthdays this week, and we're going out this weekend to celebrate. We're all very ready to escape, I think. I've promised to drive, since my birthday is NOT this month, so that the birthday girls can have a little extra fun. They need it, too (one of them had her house flood this week, for example, and while that should be covered under her home warranty, they're trying to say it isn't). So obviously I'm excited about getting together, but in the meantime, my life is a little more like this:
Hang in there, y'all. I know I'm not the only one having a rough week.
Breathe in, breathe out.
This week has not improved with age.
The boy-o finished up yesterday's work at noon and still, at 4:25 p.m., has three more subjects of today's work to complete. This is actually an improvement over yesterday, when he didn't get Monday's work finished until noon-ish and we were home all morning. At least today he has the excuse that we were at the therapist's office for an hour.
(Note to self: This is not how you walk away from the negative. Breathe in, breathe out...)
Boo is doing well! She's done with today's work and has practiced her violin in her newly-rearranged room (the girl has her grandmother's room-rearranging tendencies and isn't happy unless everything is moved and redecorated regularly) with a checklist that her teacher has started giving out each week.
Doodlebug's therapist is still working out beautifully. We stumbled on an excellent one, and I couldn't be happier. He pulled me in first today, and we chatted about plans. We're still trying to manage Doodlebug's anger and energy into more productive, positive channels - not burying the anger, just handling it in a healthy fashion. Yesterday I couldn't open my mouth without ugliness coming out of his, and that's not helping anyone.
I mentioned today that we'll put him into public school this fall, and he wants to get Doodlebug's assessment/diagnoses updated, either through the school or through private channels, since the only one we have is from when he was 5 and which was done through an office that has since dissolved. Then he wants to see if we can get the IEP ball rolling before summer even gets here so that there's a firm plan in place before Doodlebug walks through the door in August.
I like this idea. A lot.
He also recognized, even before I said anything, that there's only a 50/50 shot of public school working out for Doodlebug. It made me happy that we were on the same page and recognized the same stumbling blocks and had the same thoughts about solutions for them. When a parent and a doctor are on the same page, good things happen.
I called Doodlebug's pediatrician yesterday and made an appointment to discuss adding a low-dose stimulant to his current Intuniv. Anything that can help him focus is, at this point, a positive step.
I'm making progress on my reading, my cross-stitch, and a couple other projects I wanted to tackle this month. Now if I can only get my car in for its detailing...
Several of my friends are having birthdays this week, and we're going out this weekend to celebrate. We're all very ready to escape, I think. I've promised to drive, since my birthday is NOT this month, so that the birthday girls can have a little extra fun. They need it, too (one of them had her house flood this week, for example, and while that should be covered under her home warranty, they're trying to say it isn't). So obviously I'm excited about getting together, but in the meantime, my life is a little more like this:
than like this:
Monday, January 13, 2014
And We're Back to That Already
Long before Christmas, Doodlebug and I had gone 'round and 'round about his schoolwork, and I'd finally settled - reluctantly, but because I had little other choice - into the routine of giving him due dates and letting him complete/turn in his work when he wanted. Which means I'm on call 24/7 and he's spending more and more time not completing work when it needs to be done and more and more time doing it on the 5th of Never.
I had been hopeful that after several weeks off - one at Thanksgiving, two at Christmas - we would be able to get back into a more productive routine and he'd actually start giving a flying flip about his school work.
I couldn't have been more wrong if I tried. Any doubts about sending him to public school this fall are gone. G. O. N. E. Because if I keep him here, I'll kill him.
Not actually.
But I'll want to do the Homer Simpson neck-squeezing thing a lot. ("WHY, YOU LITTLE....!!!")
It's 11:10 a.m. He woke up late, because he refuses to set an alarm. He refuses to set an alarm because he assumes that it's someone else's job to wake him and/or he'll hear Boo getting ready and be able to wake up and get his chores done before school 'starts' at 8:30. Anyway, he woke up late. He threw a giant fit when I told him that chores needed to be done before breakfast because this fall he'll be able to get on the bus holding a piece of toast, but he can't feed the cats while riding to school. Plus, it does take him that long to accept a new routine. He stomped around, hollering at me because clearly this is all my fault. He fed the cats while stomping. He fed his lizard while stomping. And just about the time I was going to threaten to get the hacksaw and dare him to stomp around on bloody stumps, he quit stomping so he could clean out the litter boxes (which, by the way, is a chore he chose so he would no longer have to help hand-wash dishes. The logic of this choice escapes me, since I know which I'd rather do, but never mind, he chose it and there it is).
Meanwhile, Boo and I went upstairs to start school.
The boy came up a few minutes later. "I need to refill the litter boxes, and we're out of litter."
Now, I knew - knew - that when I'd been in the garage, I'd seen plenty of containers of litter sitting where they always sit, right beside the deep freeze. So I thought I'd call his bluff.
"There's more in the garage. Do you need help bringing it in?"
"No, those are empty. I've been putting the empty ones back out there."
Silence. Cue sound of head hitting desk.
"So you're telling me we have five cats, three litter boxes, and no litter."
A nod was all I got.
The rule in this house is that Mama (or Dad) needs three days' notice to get anything like this, so we don't have to make emergency store runs for things like cat food, lizard food, milk, etc. Usually I get 24-48 hours' notice, which is good enough most of the time. But this was 8:45 a.m. (15 minutes late for school already), Sam's Club doesn't open till 10, and I've got stuff to get done today that can't be put off. And I hate, hate, HATE the smell of cat pee. Right up there with roaches on the list of things I don't want in my house.
I told him to figure out how to get at least two functioning litter boxes and sent him back downstairs.
Scream stomp stomp stomp muttermutter hoot squawk stomp.
He found a solution and made it to 'school' half an hour late. Whatever. Then it took him 1.5 hours to complete his first assignment, one that I've seen him finish in 20 minutes when the mood takes him. He's been working on his second assignment for 45 minutes. Again, this is one that could be done in 20. I know, because his sister did it in 25.
I'm going to go to lunch with a friend now. I know that nothing will be completed in my absence. I've tailored this curriculum till it can't be tailored any more, and he claims to like it all, but he just. doesn't. care.
Have I mentioned I can't wait for August to get here? I love my son, but I can't love him as well when I feel like I'm fighting with him 24/7.
Hello, Monday!
I had been hopeful that after several weeks off - one at Thanksgiving, two at Christmas - we would be able to get back into a more productive routine and he'd actually start giving a flying flip about his school work.
I couldn't have been more wrong if I tried. Any doubts about sending him to public school this fall are gone. G. O. N. E. Because if I keep him here, I'll kill him.
Not actually.
But I'll want to do the Homer Simpson neck-squeezing thing a lot. ("WHY, YOU LITTLE....!!!")
It's 11:10 a.m. He woke up late, because he refuses to set an alarm. He refuses to set an alarm because he assumes that it's someone else's job to wake him and/or he'll hear Boo getting ready and be able to wake up and get his chores done before school 'starts' at 8:30. Anyway, he woke up late. He threw a giant fit when I told him that chores needed to be done before breakfast because this fall he'll be able to get on the bus holding a piece of toast, but he can't feed the cats while riding to school. Plus, it does take him that long to accept a new routine. He stomped around, hollering at me because clearly this is all my fault. He fed the cats while stomping. He fed his lizard while stomping. And just about the time I was going to threaten to get the hacksaw and dare him to stomp around on bloody stumps, he quit stomping so he could clean out the litter boxes (which, by the way, is a chore he chose so he would no longer have to help hand-wash dishes. The logic of this choice escapes me, since I know which I'd rather do, but never mind, he chose it and there it is).
Meanwhile, Boo and I went upstairs to start school.
The boy came up a few minutes later. "I need to refill the litter boxes, and we're out of litter."
Now, I knew - knew - that when I'd been in the garage, I'd seen plenty of containers of litter sitting where they always sit, right beside the deep freeze. So I thought I'd call his bluff.
"There's more in the garage. Do you need help bringing it in?"
"No, those are empty. I've been putting the empty ones back out there."
Silence. Cue sound of head hitting desk.
"So you're telling me we have five cats, three litter boxes, and no litter."
A nod was all I got.
The rule in this house is that Mama (or Dad) needs three days' notice to get anything like this, so we don't have to make emergency store runs for things like cat food, lizard food, milk, etc. Usually I get 24-48 hours' notice, which is good enough most of the time. But this was 8:45 a.m. (15 minutes late for school already), Sam's Club doesn't open till 10, and I've got stuff to get done today that can't be put off. And I hate, hate, HATE the smell of cat pee. Right up there with roaches on the list of things I don't want in my house.
I told him to figure out how to get at least two functioning litter boxes and sent him back downstairs.
Scream stomp stomp stomp muttermutter hoot squawk stomp.
He found a solution and made it to 'school' half an hour late. Whatever. Then it took him 1.5 hours to complete his first assignment, one that I've seen him finish in 20 minutes when the mood takes him. He's been working on his second assignment for 45 minutes. Again, this is one that could be done in 20. I know, because his sister did it in 25.
I'm going to go to lunch with a friend now. I know that nothing will be completed in my absence. I've tailored this curriculum till it can't be tailored any more, and he claims to like it all, but he just. doesn't. care.
Have I mentioned I can't wait for August to get here? I love my son, but I can't love him as well when I feel like I'm fighting with him 24/7.
Hello, Monday!
Monday, January 6, 2014
First Day Back Blues
It's the first day back in school after two weeks off. Two weeks in which the children, like all children before them, have forgotten everything I've taught them in the previous six months. We can no longer write complete sentences, select the right homonym, spell anything, or turn in any work without correcting it half a dozen times. Right now I'm having an argument with the boy over how to write a conclusion to his science experiment. We have a poster on the wall that clearly states what needs to be in a conclusion (What does your experiment show? Did the experiment confirm or disprove your hypothesis and how? How does the information you found relate to everyday life?), and yet I got an answer to the last question - in fragment form - and nothing else. The girl is arguing with me that it's good to put her box of colored pencils on a tiny ledge (whoops... she just spilled them everywhere) and whether or not she can spell whether 'wether.'
I planned a nice, easy week, easing back into the lessons and with a minimum of tough assignments - or so I thought.
Clearly I didn't go easy enough.
I hate first days back.
I planned a nice, easy week, easing back into the lessons and with a minimum of tough assignments - or so I thought.
Clearly I didn't go easy enough.
I hate first days back.
Wednesday, December 18, 2013
Decision Backlash: The Other Side
I remember when I first decided to bring Doodlebug home from private school. It doesn't seem all that long ago, though I know I'm in my fifth year of homeschooling him (that doesn't seem real... seriously). What I do remember, though, is fielding a lot of questions and offering a lot of explanations. In fact, one of my first blog posts was actually spent answering some of the questions I was hearing on a regular basis.
Now that at least one child (and probably both) will return to public school - or, rather, go to public school for the first time ever - next fall, I am discovering that the criticism and skepticism is equally strong on this side of the fence. It is, if anything, even uglier.
I'll be honest. I didn't expect it. I'm not sure why. I know, logically, that many people homeschool because it fits their ideology. Just like some parents who have a kneejerk reaction against homeschooling, some homeschool parents find the notion of sending their child to a public school anathema. I know this. But since I hang with what I consider to be an open-minded bunch, I really didn't expect to be grilled and criticized for my decisions for my kids.
It irritates me.
I don't feel like I should have to justify a decision, whether it is to keep my children at home or to send them to public school or to ship them to military boarding school or to put them in private school. And yet, people push:
Why would you want to send them back?
Why do you let your children have any say in where they are educated? You're the parent! It's your choice!
But they'll just become one of the crowd. How do you expect them to learn anything in a class of 24/30/random number?
Won't you miss them? I just couldn't do that. I'd miss having them around.
Don't you worry about the influence of the other kids?
ERMAGHERD, PEOPLE. Don't you think I've considered all these things already? And why, really, does it matter to you? Does my decision threaten you in some way? I hereby solemnly swear not to corrupt your children with stories of happy children attending public school.
I understand. I really do. Change is hard for many people to accept. I'm not immune to that. When people make life-altering decisions, it usually takes a while for me to get used to them. I am human, after all. But I really try hard to not question the decision and to simply be happy for the person. They've gone through the process of asking themselves everything I could possibly throw at them, and they've made a choice. That in itself is difficult!
I'm trying to be gracious in my responses:
I will send them back because I think they'll be happy - Boo especially.
I let them have a say because that's how I do things in my house. My children get a say in their future. Is it the final say? No, but it's certainly a large portion of all the things I consider before I agree or not. I don't want them to resent me as adults because I made all their choices for them.
I expect them to learn just the way I did when I attended public school as a child, the way millions of other successful children do.
Of course I'll miss them! My house will feel empty and lonely for months, I'm sure.
And no, I don't worry about the influence of other kids because studies have shown that it's what is taught at home that largely counts, and my kids and I have a good relationship (I think). I've taught them what to expect from real friends, and I've taught them how to be one (I hope). They're going to be exposed to the same things sooner or later, so they might as well learn to avoid the ugly stuff now. I've never sheltered them from the truths of the world, so I don't think there will be any culture shock.
It's still frustrating. I'm sure folks will get used to the notion sooner or later... as will I. Just like when the kids were young and I could no longer attend daytime events for moms because I had my kids in tow, it will be weird to no longer be able to attend daytime events for homeschool families because I won't be part of one. I'll have to step away from several groups. Extracurricular activities will have to be arranged after school. There will be an adjustment period.
I know my true friends and I will keep in touch. But it will be interesting to see who hangs around and who doesn't. Friends are there for a reason, a season, or a lifetime - time to find out who my seasonal friends are!
Now that at least one child (and probably both) will return to public school - or, rather, go to public school for the first time ever - next fall, I am discovering that the criticism and skepticism is equally strong on this side of the fence. It is, if anything, even uglier.
I'll be honest. I didn't expect it. I'm not sure why. I know, logically, that many people homeschool because it fits their ideology. Just like some parents who have a kneejerk reaction against homeschooling, some homeschool parents find the notion of sending their child to a public school anathema. I know this. But since I hang with what I consider to be an open-minded bunch, I really didn't expect to be grilled and criticized for my decisions for my kids.
It irritates me.
I don't feel like I should have to justify a decision, whether it is to keep my children at home or to send them to public school or to ship them to military boarding school or to put them in private school. And yet, people push:
Why would you want to send them back?
Why do you let your children have any say in where they are educated? You're the parent! It's your choice!
But they'll just become one of the crowd. How do you expect them to learn anything in a class of 24/30/random number?
Won't you miss them? I just couldn't do that. I'd miss having them around.
Don't you worry about the influence of the other kids?
ERMAGHERD, PEOPLE. Don't you think I've considered all these things already? And why, really, does it matter to you? Does my decision threaten you in some way? I hereby solemnly swear not to corrupt your children with stories of happy children attending public school.
I understand. I really do. Change is hard for many people to accept. I'm not immune to that. When people make life-altering decisions, it usually takes a while for me to get used to them. I am human, after all. But I really try hard to not question the decision and to simply be happy for the person. They've gone through the process of asking themselves everything I could possibly throw at them, and they've made a choice. That in itself is difficult!
I'm trying to be gracious in my responses:
I will send them back because I think they'll be happy - Boo especially.
I let them have a say because that's how I do things in my house. My children get a say in their future. Is it the final say? No, but it's certainly a large portion of all the things I consider before I agree or not. I don't want them to resent me as adults because I made all their choices for them.
I expect them to learn just the way I did when I attended public school as a child, the way millions of other successful children do.
Of course I'll miss them! My house will feel empty and lonely for months, I'm sure.
And no, I don't worry about the influence of other kids because studies have shown that it's what is taught at home that largely counts, and my kids and I have a good relationship (I think). I've taught them what to expect from real friends, and I've taught them how to be one (I hope). They're going to be exposed to the same things sooner or later, so they might as well learn to avoid the ugly stuff now. I've never sheltered them from the truths of the world, so I don't think there will be any culture shock.
It's still frustrating. I'm sure folks will get used to the notion sooner or later... as will I. Just like when the kids were young and I could no longer attend daytime events for moms because I had my kids in tow, it will be weird to no longer be able to attend daytime events for homeschool families because I won't be part of one. I'll have to step away from several groups. Extracurricular activities will have to be arranged after school. There will be an adjustment period.
I know my true friends and I will keep in touch. But it will be interesting to see who hangs around and who doesn't. Friends are there for a reason, a season, or a lifetime - time to find out who my seasonal friends are!
Sunday, December 8, 2013
2014 - A Year of Change?
So I had plans for 2014. In my head, I had things figured out. Here's what I thought would happen:
1. Doodlebug would stop swim and start tae kwon do.
2. Boo would start sewing classes.
3. At least one child, probably Doodlebug, would remain at home in the fall.
4. We would visit Australia, most likely around this time of year in order to take advantage of warm beaches and swimming weather.
-----
The gods sensed my plans. And they laughed.
-----
Here's what's happening now:
1. This is still happening. The facility we've found actually offers a daytime class for homeschoolers, but Doodlebug has stated that he would rather go to the 'regular' class in the evenings. I'm okay with that. If he chose, later in the year, to return to swim team, that was an option, but I wanted him to try something else for at least a temporary change. I suspect that given #3, he won't return to swim, but we'll see.
2. This is, sadly, up in the air. I sent an email to the store asking if they were still planning them, but I haven't heard back, which is disappointing. Boo is desperate to sew, and I don't know what to do if they don't hold the classes. I'll have to figure something out. Maybe pay a friend to help teach her. I don't know.
3. BOTH kids are probably going to go to public school for the next school year.
Boo had been considering going to public school just like Doodlebug had, and she came to me a few days ago and said that she would like to go back in August. I wasn't surprised. She's been happy at home, but not thoroughly so. She's long lamented the fact that she doesn't have a large circle of friends, and I know she FaceTimes with one of her best friends as often as she thinks is decent and not obnoxious. She's not good about calling others, though… I need to remind her that picking up the phone is just as simple as using other technology.
Doodlebug was another matter. Oz expressed his opinions to me the other night when I asked, and he thinks that Doodlebug should at least give public school a shot. I tend to agree. Even if it doesn't work out, he thinks that Doodlebug at least needs to know what he's giving up/avoiding. The last time he was in school, he was in kindergarten. It was a nightmare, yes, but we've all come a long way since then, and I'm hopeful that with various groups and activities and therapy, he'll be able to manage socially. If not, he does have the option to return home.
The thought of having no kids at home just weirds me out, but the Type A planner in me is glad that I have many months in which to adjust and in which to check where the kids are, academically speaking. I suspect the only areas where I really need to focus will be in math, for Boo, since Math-U-See isn't exactly Common Core-aligned, and in social studies for both kids, since I've largely focused on history and haven't really touched on 'social studies' at all… unless you count the general U.S. history that Doodlebug learned a couple years back. I'm not sure how much of that he will have retained, and Boo probably hasn't heard any of it. Still, with several months left in the school year, it's easy to remedy. I've ordered some books and will let the kids read through them, and we'll do some simple projects. I'm sure they'll be caught up in time.
I'm also sure that they'll have to do some sort of testing at the school to find out exactly where they'll stand. I guess I'll cross that bridge when I come to it.
4. If the kids are in public school, going to Australia in November/early December probably isn't going to work. Oz pointed that one out to me this morning. So we're going earlier in the year. Ye Olde Tax Refund will probably go toward the trip. I guess since I won't be spending it on curriculum, it's not a huge deal, except for the fact that instead of having almost a year to put myself into a state of mind where I can handle a 24-hour plane ride (I'm a horrible, terrible, no good, very bad flight passenger) I only have a few months… and, oh yeah, Oz is the only one of us with a passport. Right-O. Gotta get crackin' on that, too.
-----
So yeah… 2014 is already changing, and it isn't even here yet. I'm not sure how I feel about it all yet; ask me in another month, and maybe I'll have an answer. In the meantime, I'm just going to pour myself a giant mug o' happy and be glad that my Christmas shopping is over. I ain't gonna let myself get stressed out. Time to take a few deep breaths and focus on the here and now.
Time to balance the qi.
1. Doodlebug would stop swim and start tae kwon do.
2. Boo would start sewing classes.
3. At least one child, probably Doodlebug, would remain at home in the fall.
4. We would visit Australia, most likely around this time of year in order to take advantage of warm beaches and swimming weather.
-----
The gods sensed my plans. And they laughed.
-----
Here's what's happening now:
1. This is still happening. The facility we've found actually offers a daytime class for homeschoolers, but Doodlebug has stated that he would rather go to the 'regular' class in the evenings. I'm okay with that. If he chose, later in the year, to return to swim team, that was an option, but I wanted him to try something else for at least a temporary change. I suspect that given #3, he won't return to swim, but we'll see.
2. This is, sadly, up in the air. I sent an email to the store asking if they were still planning them, but I haven't heard back, which is disappointing. Boo is desperate to sew, and I don't know what to do if they don't hold the classes. I'll have to figure something out. Maybe pay a friend to help teach her. I don't know.
3. BOTH kids are probably going to go to public school for the next school year.
Boo had been considering going to public school just like Doodlebug had, and she came to me a few days ago and said that she would like to go back in August. I wasn't surprised. She's been happy at home, but not thoroughly so. She's long lamented the fact that she doesn't have a large circle of friends, and I know she FaceTimes with one of her best friends as often as she thinks is decent and not obnoxious. She's not good about calling others, though… I need to remind her that picking up the phone is just as simple as using other technology.
Doodlebug was another matter. Oz expressed his opinions to me the other night when I asked, and he thinks that Doodlebug should at least give public school a shot. I tend to agree. Even if it doesn't work out, he thinks that Doodlebug at least needs to know what he's giving up/avoiding. The last time he was in school, he was in kindergarten. It was a nightmare, yes, but we've all come a long way since then, and I'm hopeful that with various groups and activities and therapy, he'll be able to manage socially. If not, he does have the option to return home.
The thought of having no kids at home just weirds me out, but the Type A planner in me is glad that I have many months in which to adjust and in which to check where the kids are, academically speaking. I suspect the only areas where I really need to focus will be in math, for Boo, since Math-U-See isn't exactly Common Core-aligned, and in social studies for both kids, since I've largely focused on history and haven't really touched on 'social studies' at all… unless you count the general U.S. history that Doodlebug learned a couple years back. I'm not sure how much of that he will have retained, and Boo probably hasn't heard any of it. Still, with several months left in the school year, it's easy to remedy. I've ordered some books and will let the kids read through them, and we'll do some simple projects. I'm sure they'll be caught up in time.
I'm also sure that they'll have to do some sort of testing at the school to find out exactly where they'll stand. I guess I'll cross that bridge when I come to it.
4. If the kids are in public school, going to Australia in November/early December probably isn't going to work. Oz pointed that one out to me this morning. So we're going earlier in the year. Ye Olde Tax Refund will probably go toward the trip. I guess since I won't be spending it on curriculum, it's not a huge deal, except for the fact that instead of having almost a year to put myself into a state of mind where I can handle a 24-hour plane ride (I'm a horrible, terrible, no good, very bad flight passenger) I only have a few months… and, oh yeah, Oz is the only one of us with a passport. Right-O. Gotta get crackin' on that, too.
-----
So yeah… 2014 is already changing, and it isn't even here yet. I'm not sure how I feel about it all yet; ask me in another month, and maybe I'll have an answer. In the meantime, I'm just going to pour myself a giant mug o' happy and be glad that my Christmas shopping is over. I ain't gonna let myself get stressed out. Time to take a few deep breaths and focus on the here and now.
Time to balance the qi.
Monday, November 18, 2013
Monday Musings
I don't usually do this, and I don't think it'll be a typical 'thing' that I do, but I read other blogs whose authors do this, and I'm rather inspired this week. So…
Outside My Window:
It's sunny and cool today. It was really quite warm this weekend and very windy for a cookout on Saturday night, but the weather today is more seasonally appropriate. I'm keeping a close eye on the weather for Thanksgiving, though. I'd love snow, but I don't want people driving in it for the holiday. Catch-22.
In My Yard:
The trees are nearly naked. I dug up my giant rosemary plant and tucked it into the garage before the hard freeze last weekend, and I'm glad I did. It's actually too big for my biggest pot, but I made it fit for now. If I can manage to make it live through the winter and can replant it in the yard next spring, I'll probably just try to cover it next winter and see what happens.
In My Home:
Thanksgiving decorations are out, and the cats are extremely hopped up on nip at the moment. A year or so ago, when we went to Kansas City, I picked up a catnip-stuffed mouse for the cats from a store called Gatos. The cats loved it. One of my cats loves this mouse so much she hauls it around all the time and will sit for hours with it between her paws. Ergo, this mouse is called "Boyfriend Mouse." Boyfriend Mouse, however, has been looking kind of sad lately, so I got on the Interwebz and hunted down more. This time, I ordered three. They arrived today. That's a lot of happy cat lolling around my living room right now.
The kids are upstairs. Doodlebug is finishing up school, and Boo is bugging him so he can't focus. She just requested a sinus rinse because she couldn't breathe. How they can tolerate those things, I'll never know, but they swear they help. The drowned-rat feeling deters me.
In My Kitchen:
Turkey pot pie is on the menu tonight. Over the weekend the kids and I made sticky buns, and because I can't read a recipe, I made two pans instead of three… but with the same amount of dough. Because of that, they're obscenely gooey… and I had to put some of the dough in individual pie tins just because there wasn't room. Next time I'll know better. Later this week I'm going to try some new recipes like beer brat chili and jalapeño cream cheese Philly cheesesteak sliders. (If you can't see those recipes, I apologize… some of them may be exclusive to Taste of Home magazine subscribers. I would be happy to e-mail them to you if you're interested, though!)
Crafty Stuff:
I've started a new, giant project. It's a cross-stitch project for Doodlebug's room. He wants to redecorate, and now that he's stopped demolishing furniture and scratching tic-tac-toe symbols into the walls, I'm considering it. He wants a gray/black color scheme - black Ikea furniture, gray walls - and wants this to hang on his wall. I'm taking bets on when I'll be finished with it. I've had people suggest time frames everywhere from February (uh… no) to "about the time [Doodlebug's] finished with high school." That's probably a closer approximation. I've finished two colors and have started on the third… not that that means much. I think it'll probably take me till summer to complete, depending on how often I actually sit down and work on it.
In Our Homeschool:
We're about halfway done with our school year. We'll take next week off for Thanksgiving, and the week we come back will be our second interest week. Boo has decided she wants to study food; Doodlebug hasn't chosen a topic yet. We're studying worms in science this week, the New Kingdom of Egypt (i.e. King Tut) in history, and I uploaded Rosetta Stone Spanish (Latin America) onto the computer today. That turned out to be an epic journey. I already had Rosetta Stone German on the computer, so I just added the Spanish to it… but when I went to register the curriculum, it didn't give me the option to add the homeschool code. It just asked me for an 'upgrade' code and then wouldn't accept the homeschool code that I had. I wound up calling and talking to a very patient (and fairly clear-spoken) tech support guy from India. It took him a bit before he worked out that the version of Rosetta Stone I already had on the computer (Totale, or version 4) was too advanced for the homeschool curriculum that they still sell (version 3). So now I have two versions of Rosetta Stone. *shrug* Technology. Not really my gig.
In Our Lives:
The kids are fighting now. I swear that's all they do. They can't even pour bowls of breakfast cereal without sniping at one another. We're still using the respect jar - actually just went out last night for their reward for filling it - but it hasn't helped Doodlebug one bit. One of my friends said today that her boys have been doing the same thing - sort of a male lion domination thing that her her dad calls "testosterone flashes" - and it's driving me crazy. He has to be right EVERY time, and if he's not, he'll bully his sister or run his mouth to me and/or Oz until he gets himself in trouble. That appointment with the counselor can't come quickly enough. *insert virtual pause here* I just broke up the second fight between them. Doodlebug wanted to play Monopoly and Boo agreed if she could be banker, which Doodlebug initially agreed to and then decided he thought it would be too hard for Boo. He thought he was being nice; she was angry that he took the job away from her. Had to side with her on this one and tell him that he needed to let her try and decide for herself whether it would be too hard or not. She's perfectly capable of doing the math; she'll just be slower than he wants to deal with. I'm sure that's where the rub comes in. Ugh. Time to bury myself in something else - cross-stitching or dinner.
How are things in your neck of the woods?
Outside My Window:
It's sunny and cool today. It was really quite warm this weekend and very windy for a cookout on Saturday night, but the weather today is more seasonally appropriate. I'm keeping a close eye on the weather for Thanksgiving, though. I'd love snow, but I don't want people driving in it for the holiday. Catch-22.
In My Yard:
The trees are nearly naked. I dug up my giant rosemary plant and tucked it into the garage before the hard freeze last weekend, and I'm glad I did. It's actually too big for my biggest pot, but I made it fit for now. If I can manage to make it live through the winter and can replant it in the yard next spring, I'll probably just try to cover it next winter and see what happens.
In My Home:
Thanksgiving decorations are out, and the cats are extremely hopped up on nip at the moment. A year or so ago, when we went to Kansas City, I picked up a catnip-stuffed mouse for the cats from a store called Gatos. The cats loved it. One of my cats loves this mouse so much she hauls it around all the time and will sit for hours with it between her paws. Ergo, this mouse is called "Boyfriend Mouse." Boyfriend Mouse, however, has been looking kind of sad lately, so I got on the Interwebz and hunted down more. This time, I ordered three. They arrived today. That's a lot of happy cat lolling around my living room right now.
The kids are upstairs. Doodlebug is finishing up school, and Boo is bugging him so he can't focus. She just requested a sinus rinse because she couldn't breathe. How they can tolerate those things, I'll never know, but they swear they help. The drowned-rat feeling deters me.
In My Kitchen:
Turkey pot pie is on the menu tonight. Over the weekend the kids and I made sticky buns, and because I can't read a recipe, I made two pans instead of three… but with the same amount of dough. Because of that, they're obscenely gooey… and I had to put some of the dough in individual pie tins just because there wasn't room. Next time I'll know better. Later this week I'm going to try some new recipes like beer brat chili and jalapeño cream cheese Philly cheesesteak sliders. (If you can't see those recipes, I apologize… some of them may be exclusive to Taste of Home magazine subscribers. I would be happy to e-mail them to you if you're interested, though!)
Crafty Stuff:
I've started a new, giant project. It's a cross-stitch project for Doodlebug's room. He wants to redecorate, and now that he's stopped demolishing furniture and scratching tic-tac-toe symbols into the walls, I'm considering it. He wants a gray/black color scheme - black Ikea furniture, gray walls - and wants this to hang on his wall. I'm taking bets on when I'll be finished with it. I've had people suggest time frames everywhere from February (uh… no) to "about the time [Doodlebug's] finished with high school." That's probably a closer approximation. I've finished two colors and have started on the third… not that that means much. I think it'll probably take me till summer to complete, depending on how often I actually sit down and work on it.
In Our Homeschool:
We're about halfway done with our school year. We'll take next week off for Thanksgiving, and the week we come back will be our second interest week. Boo has decided she wants to study food; Doodlebug hasn't chosen a topic yet. We're studying worms in science this week, the New Kingdom of Egypt (i.e. King Tut) in history, and I uploaded Rosetta Stone Spanish (Latin America) onto the computer today. That turned out to be an epic journey. I already had Rosetta Stone German on the computer, so I just added the Spanish to it… but when I went to register the curriculum, it didn't give me the option to add the homeschool code. It just asked me for an 'upgrade' code and then wouldn't accept the homeschool code that I had. I wound up calling and talking to a very patient (and fairly clear-spoken) tech support guy from India. It took him a bit before he worked out that the version of Rosetta Stone I already had on the computer (Totale, or version 4) was too advanced for the homeschool curriculum that they still sell (version 3). So now I have two versions of Rosetta Stone. *shrug* Technology. Not really my gig.
In Our Lives:
The kids are fighting now. I swear that's all they do. They can't even pour bowls of breakfast cereal without sniping at one another. We're still using the respect jar - actually just went out last night for their reward for filling it - but it hasn't helped Doodlebug one bit. One of my friends said today that her boys have been doing the same thing - sort of a male lion domination thing that her her dad calls "testosterone flashes" - and it's driving me crazy. He has to be right EVERY time, and if he's not, he'll bully his sister or run his mouth to me and/or Oz until he gets himself in trouble. That appointment with the counselor can't come quickly enough. *insert virtual pause here* I just broke up the second fight between them. Doodlebug wanted to play Monopoly and Boo agreed if she could be banker, which Doodlebug initially agreed to and then decided he thought it would be too hard for Boo. He thought he was being nice; she was angry that he took the job away from her. Had to side with her on this one and tell him that he needed to let her try and decide for herself whether it would be too hard or not. She's perfectly capable of doing the math; she'll just be slower than he wants to deal with. I'm sure that's where the rub comes in. Ugh. Time to bury myself in something else - cross-stitching or dinner.
How are things in your neck of the woods?
Friday, November 8, 2013
Once More Into the Fray
I'm sitting in the school room on this fine Friday morning. I say 'fine' only because the weather outside is crisp and calm and sunny and 50% of the children in this house are in a decent mood. The other 50% are in a state of perpetual pissiness (and no, autocorrect, I do not mean prissiness) because he woke up this morning and informed me he felt better, so I marched him upstairs to do school. He thought feeling better still equated to a day on the couch.
Not so, good sir... not so. Mostly because I know that by 10:30 a.m. he'd be bored and deliberately antagonizing his sister. The boy thrives on structure, so whine as he will, structure is what he gets. Nobody needs a day of fighting.
We were supposed to attend a field trip today, but with the boy still snotty and borderline not okay (methinks he decided he was better on the basis of sleepover(s) planned for this weekend that he was unaware had already been canceled), I decided we'd spend the day at home. Nobody wants us to spread the love. Or germs. Mostly germs...
Fridays are our light school days, anyway, so all we had was a little writing, some grammar, math, and logic, and I plan to let the kids watch a documentary later for both history and science. Boo is done, having pranced out of here with ostentatious glee a few minutes ago - ah, there she is... she's back to measure the dog. She wants to make him a homemade harness. I worry, but I keep my mouth shut. I'm aware that my concerns will be brushed aside. So I'll watch silently and dry the tears when they come, and then I'll take her to the pet store to see how harnesses are made. And then if she still wants to make one, we'll try again. Together, or at least partially so.
Doodlebug is doodling around. He's completed his writing and was making a mess of his math until I told him we would do it cooperatively in a little bit and to finish the rest of his work first. He'd rather blow his nose and toss the used snot-rags on the floor and 'supervise' his sister than do work, so I guess he must be feeling a little better, and this week has been sort of a blow-off week, anyway - they did work with Oz while I was gone, but he's still a 'substitute,' and I wrote yesterday off altogether, and today has sort of a 'first day back' feel to it - so I'm not getting upset. It simply amuses me how the kids think I'll forget how these days are supposed to go just because I wasn't here for a few of them. I sympathize with public school teachers in that respect, I suppose.
This feels a lot more like the first day home I'd expected to have. It feels good to get back into a normal routine. I like structure, too, and yesterday's chaos culminated in multiple glasses of wine and chocolate cupcakes and a large quantity of kettle corn.
I think we're all recovering from Mama's trip. I loved it. Every minute. But today feels like my first true day home. It's good to be back to 'normal!'
Not so, good sir... not so. Mostly because I know that by 10:30 a.m. he'd be bored and deliberately antagonizing his sister. The boy thrives on structure, so whine as he will, structure is what he gets. Nobody needs a day of fighting.
We were supposed to attend a field trip today, but with the boy still snotty and borderline not okay (methinks he decided he was better on the basis of sleepover(s) planned for this weekend that he was unaware had already been canceled), I decided we'd spend the day at home. Nobody wants us to spread the love. Or germs. Mostly germs...
Fridays are our light school days, anyway, so all we had was a little writing, some grammar, math, and logic, and I plan to let the kids watch a documentary later for both history and science. Boo is done, having pranced out of here with ostentatious glee a few minutes ago - ah, there she is... she's back to measure the dog. She wants to make him a homemade harness. I worry, but I keep my mouth shut. I'm aware that my concerns will be brushed aside. So I'll watch silently and dry the tears when they come, and then I'll take her to the pet store to see how harnesses are made. And then if she still wants to make one, we'll try again. Together, or at least partially so.
Doodlebug is doodling around. He's completed his writing and was making a mess of his math until I told him we would do it cooperatively in a little bit and to finish the rest of his work first. He'd rather blow his nose and toss the used snot-rags on the floor and 'supervise' his sister than do work, so I guess he must be feeling a little better, and this week has been sort of a blow-off week, anyway - they did work with Oz while I was gone, but he's still a 'substitute,' and I wrote yesterday off altogether, and today has sort of a 'first day back' feel to it - so I'm not getting upset. It simply amuses me how the kids think I'll forget how these days are supposed to go just because I wasn't here for a few of them. I sympathize with public school teachers in that respect, I suppose.
This feels a lot more like the first day home I'd expected to have. It feels good to get back into a normal routine. I like structure, too, and yesterday's chaos culminated in multiple glasses of wine and chocolate cupcakes and a large quantity of kettle corn.
I think we're all recovering from Mama's trip. I loved it. Every minute. But today feels like my first true day home. It's good to be back to 'normal!'
Wednesday, October 30, 2013
A Fairy Tale (With a Moral Twist), by Boo
All People Are Equal
by Boo
Once upon a time there lived a group of dryads. They lived in houses made in trees. The trees were magically designed so that there was living space inside. The dryads wore leaf dresses that were strung together with vines. They used magic to keep the leaves green. All the dryads loved to dance with all their hearts. Their music was made of hazelnut castanets and swaying trees. There were only girls in this tribe. They also loved to play tag because there were lots of trees to run around. Of course climbing was fun, too. The children liked to play hide-and-seek, and so did the grown-ups.
The queen of the tribe was named Flouresta. Flouresta had two assistants. One of them was named Rose and the other Daisy. The cook was named Maple. The dryads ate a small variety of things like acorn soup, hazelnut soup, and very, very rarely berry cream. The cream came from the cow that would escape from the farm next door.
The tribe was very happy until, very unexpectedly, a farm boy wandered into the woods. Nobody noticed that he was coming into their space because they were all playing a good game of tag. The farm boy didn't know what tag was, nor did he know why the grown-ups were doing whatever they were doing. Suddenly Flouresta noticed the farm boy and stopped, which caused everybody else to slowly stop, too
She started questioning the boy. "What is your name?" she asked.
"Steve," he replied.
"Are you a boy?" she asked.
"Yes, of course," he responded.
Flouresta felt awkward. She knew that boys weren't allowed, but she didn't quite know how to get him out of her woods nicely.
"Get out please. I don't want to have to use magic to force you out," she said stoutly.
"What is magic?" Steve asked.
"You don't want to find out," Flouresta answered.
Just then Maple stepped up. "There is no need for magic, because we can push him out!" she said.
Flouresta contemplated this idea, then said, "Rose, Daisy, take this boy to the dungeon. Then we can decide what's to be done with him!"
On the way to the dungeon Steve escaped. "GET HIM!!!" every body yelled.
"Rose, Daisy, Maple - it's magic time," Flouresta hollered. "First we fly, then we use tree magic."
They all shot off the ground. First they made the tree in front of Steve bend down.
"Bet you can't catch me," Steve jeered. "I don't get to sleep in the house at night, so I come in here and find my way around."
Flouresta thought that Steve would be too busy talking to them and would trip and fall over the tree that they had just bent down. He didn't, though, he just jumped over it as if it were a crayon. Steve turned a sharp corner and ran inside a tree and stopped. When the tribe came in, he said, "All people are equal. If you are so peaceful all the time, why do you fight to get me out?"
"We used to only let girls into our wood, but you have shown us that all people are equal, even boys," Flouresta replied.
From that day forth the tribe always let boys in. They taught Steve all their games. They even offered to let Steve lived with them, but Steve said that his home was on the farm.
The End
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