Just wanted to take a quick moment to point out that I've added a lot more blogs to the list on the right (keep scrolling... keep scrolling... it's there). It only shows the 10 that have been updated most recently, but feel free to check out these other sites. Most are homeschoolers, some aren't. Most are about moms/kids/parenting, but a few aren't.
And if you have a blog and want to share, or if you have a suggestion for one I might like to read, let me know! I'm kind of on a new-blog binge right now.
Friday, September 6, 2013
Wednesday, September 4, 2013
Silence Like a Cancer Grows
I'm sitting on the couch downstairs. The only sounds I hear are the water falling from the filter in the fish tank and the slight growl of the dishwasher running through yet another cycle because dishes, like laundry, are a never-ending task. Oh, wait, there's the air conditioner popping on.
The children are home. They're just upstairs.
When we bought this house just over a year ago, I was thrilled that it had a game room. The game room is upstairs with the kids' bedrooms and their bathroom, and I had visions of the kids playing happily upstairs where I could hear them but not have to feel like I needed to monitor their every movement like I did when we only had one living area and we were always, always in the same room together. I loved the idea of breathing space.
I got my wish. And it's bittersweet. I love that the kids can go upstairs and disappear. Right now Boo is in her room reading some library books, and Doodlebug is parked in front of the Wii getting his daily electronics fix. They're content. They're doing what they want to do. Mostly, though, they're quiet.
The quiet is interesting. It reminds me that the kids aren't little any more and that I don't have to worry about what they're up to every second of the day (remember when silence was evil? It's still not entirely innocent, but it's more innocent now than when they were younger). It reminds me that in a few years, there will be jobs and/or volunteer positions and more independent school work and that my place in their lives will diminish considerably, especially if and when there are driver's licenses and cars involved.
I feel like I'm smack-dab in the middle of an in-between phase, just like my son, who is hovering in between childhood and adolescence. On the one hand, I'm needed. They need me to remind them what chores to do and when and tell them when it's time for dinner and drive them to events. They want me to "Come see this!" and "Help me?" do that. On the other hand, they don't need me as much any more. They can figure out their likes and dislikes (though this is a major problem for Boo, and that'll need its own post soon) and what they do and don't want to do each day without any help from me. They can clean their own rooms (heck, they can clean the whole house if necessary) and fix breakfasts and lunches and make sure they have all their gear for swim/violin/yoga before we leave.
They aren't old enough to be left home alone for any length of time - sometime in the next year, I'll probably start running short errands, but I want to make sure they're both old enough and mature enough for that before I take off - but at the same time, I don't often see them unless they either want food or have a project they need help with or are arguing and want my intercession.
And so I sit. I wait until I'm wanted or needed. I don't like that. Raising my kids 'right' is an admirable goal, but I wish I had another purpose. There's only so much sitting around reading library books one mom can do before she loses her mind. Same goes for baking. I can't do that all day, every day. I need to be accessible, but I want to be busy to some purpose. It's an interesting dichotomy, and I'm not sure how to fill both my needs and the needs of my kids at the same time.
When we're doing school, it's not so bad. I think this week off is affecting me. Still, there will be plenty more weeks off in the days to come, and we still have the afternoons to consider. Thoughts?
The children are home. They're just upstairs.
When we bought this house just over a year ago, I was thrilled that it had a game room. The game room is upstairs with the kids' bedrooms and their bathroom, and I had visions of the kids playing happily upstairs where I could hear them but not have to feel like I needed to monitor their every movement like I did when we only had one living area and we were always, always in the same room together. I loved the idea of breathing space.
I got my wish. And it's bittersweet. I love that the kids can go upstairs and disappear. Right now Boo is in her room reading some library books, and Doodlebug is parked in front of the Wii getting his daily electronics fix. They're content. They're doing what they want to do. Mostly, though, they're quiet.
The quiet is interesting. It reminds me that the kids aren't little any more and that I don't have to worry about what they're up to every second of the day (remember when silence was evil? It's still not entirely innocent, but it's more innocent now than when they were younger). It reminds me that in a few years, there will be jobs and/or volunteer positions and more independent school work and that my place in their lives will diminish considerably, especially if and when there are driver's licenses and cars involved.
I feel like I'm smack-dab in the middle of an in-between phase, just like my son, who is hovering in between childhood and adolescence. On the one hand, I'm needed. They need me to remind them what chores to do and when and tell them when it's time for dinner and drive them to events. They want me to "Come see this!" and "Help me?" do that. On the other hand, they don't need me as much any more. They can figure out their likes and dislikes (though this is a major problem for Boo, and that'll need its own post soon) and what they do and don't want to do each day without any help from me. They can clean their own rooms (heck, they can clean the whole house if necessary) and fix breakfasts and lunches and make sure they have all their gear for swim/violin/yoga before we leave.
They aren't old enough to be left home alone for any length of time - sometime in the next year, I'll probably start running short errands, but I want to make sure they're both old enough and mature enough for that before I take off - but at the same time, I don't often see them unless they either want food or have a project they need help with or are arguing and want my intercession.
And so I sit. I wait until I'm wanted or needed. I don't like that. Raising my kids 'right' is an admirable goal, but I wish I had another purpose. There's only so much sitting around reading library books one mom can do before she loses her mind. Same goes for baking. I can't do that all day, every day. I need to be accessible, but I want to be busy to some purpose. It's an interesting dichotomy, and I'm not sure how to fill both my needs and the needs of my kids at the same time.
When we're doing school, it's not so bad. I think this week off is affecting me. Still, there will be plenty more weeks off in the days to come, and we still have the afternoons to consider. Thoughts?
Tuesday, September 3, 2013
My Gorgeous New Baby
No, it's nothing alive. The only new live critter that I intend to introduce to this house anytime in the next few months is a bearded dragon that Oz and I have promised to get for Doodlebug's 11th birthday in October. He's wanted one since he was... oh, 5 or 6. I think he's finally ready for the responsibility.
Anyway, over the weekend I got a new baby. Want to meet her?
This is Silvia. Isn't she pretty? She's a Ford Explorer.
I'm still familiarizing myself with how she works. It's bizarre to get into a vehicle without rummaging through my purse for the keys. She has push-button start. She also has a million other bells and whistles, including voice controls so I no longer have to lift a finger to change the temperature or make a phone call (because, of course, my phone's Bluetooth hooks right into the system as well) or change the radio station. Oz is in techie heaven and spent the first 24 hours or so making sure that everything was updated and set up properly. I'm a bit more ambivalent about all the features, because as long as the gas pedal, the brake pedal, the horn, and the radio work, I can live with just about anything else.
Still, she's gorgeous and I'm totally in love. And if she can help me parallel park like the manual says she can, then she's my new best friend because I can't parallel park to save my life. When I was 16 and taking the driving test for the second time and the proctor told me to parallel park, I told him, "You know what? I don't do that. And if I ever get in a situation where that's what I have to do, then I'll find somewhere else to park." He made me try, and it took me forever, and he had to help me with some of it, which I don't think he was supposed to do. I still passed. And to this day, I haven't had to parallel park... at least, not in a situation between two cars. Pulling up behind another car or backing in where there are extra spaces, yes, but actually parallel parking between two cars that are one space apart? No.
Moving on...
This is the view looking back from the driver's seat. That's a moonroof at the top of the image. There's a sunroof over the front seats. Sunroof, moonroof... whatever. More car love. Those are bucket seats in the middle, which is mighty handy when you have two kids who can't sit together on bench seats without erecting an imaginary wall which can cause WWIII in the blink of an eye if its position shifts even marginally or if it's crossed a fraction of an inch. There's also the third row, which can fold down or stow as necessary, so if WWIII threatens to happen regardless of the lack of wall, I can banish someone to the back and theoretically thwart the impending battle. Oh, and Oz can fit in the second row, too. That's crucial when I consider the fact that Doodlebug may well be of a similar size one day.
Because, gods willing, I'm not getting rid of Silvia until the kids move out. She rocks.
Anyway, over the weekend I got a new baby. Want to meet her?
This is Silvia. Isn't she pretty? She's a Ford Explorer.
I'm still familiarizing myself with how she works. It's bizarre to get into a vehicle without rummaging through my purse for the keys. She has push-button start. She also has a million other bells and whistles, including voice controls so I no longer have to lift a finger to change the temperature or make a phone call (because, of course, my phone's Bluetooth hooks right into the system as well) or change the radio station. Oz is in techie heaven and spent the first 24 hours or so making sure that everything was updated and set up properly. I'm a bit more ambivalent about all the features, because as long as the gas pedal, the brake pedal, the horn, and the radio work, I can live with just about anything else.
Still, she's gorgeous and I'm totally in love. And if she can help me parallel park like the manual says she can, then she's my new best friend because I can't parallel park to save my life. When I was 16 and taking the driving test for the second time and the proctor told me to parallel park, I told him, "You know what? I don't do that. And if I ever get in a situation where that's what I have to do, then I'll find somewhere else to park." He made me try, and it took me forever, and he had to help me with some of it, which I don't think he was supposed to do. I still passed. And to this day, I haven't had to parallel park... at least, not in a situation between two cars. Pulling up behind another car or backing in where there are extra spaces, yes, but actually parallel parking between two cars that are one space apart? No.
Moving on...
This is the view looking back from the driver's seat. That's a moonroof at the top of the image. There's a sunroof over the front seats. Sunroof, moonroof... whatever. More car love. Those are bucket seats in the middle, which is mighty handy when you have two kids who can't sit together on bench seats without erecting an imaginary wall which can cause WWIII in the blink of an eye if its position shifts even marginally or if it's crossed a fraction of an inch. There's also the third row, which can fold down or stow as necessary, so if WWIII threatens to happen regardless of the lack of wall, I can banish someone to the back and theoretically thwart the impending battle. Oh, and Oz can fit in the second row, too. That's crucial when I consider the fact that Doodlebug may well be of a similar size one day.
Because, gods willing, I'm not getting rid of Silvia until the kids move out. She rocks.
Sunday, September 1, 2013
Homemade History, Week 7
Just as we get into the really interesting stuff, it's time for a break. It's Labor Day week here in the ol' US of A, and I don't do four-day weeks. I find them unproductive. So instead, we just take the entire week off. Since we've been going hard for seven weeks, it's time. This first block is one of the longest continuous stretches of school we'll have all year.
Week 7 Topic: Egypt's Old Kingdom + mastabas, pyramids, mummies
Monday: Reading and notes. The kids picked two of the following choices: Story of the World chapters 2 and 4, Kingfisher Book of the Ancient World pages 28-31, Usborne World History Encyclopedia pages 114-117, or Life in Ancient Egypt pages 4-9, 20-22, and 26-27.
Tuesday: The kids finished their reading, and we noted any necessary revisions to their nine weeks' papers. They'll finish revising the paper and type them up in weeks 8 and 9, and hopefully I'll be allowed to post their work here. Doodlebug especially has surprised me - he decided to write his paper entirely from second-person perspective. It's an odd choice, but I think it works.
Wednesday: We filled in a map of Ancient Egypt, complete with the locations of pyramids, ancient cities along the Nile, and the general geography in and around Egypt like the Red Sea, the Mediterranean Sea, and the Sahara.
Thursday: Definitions (hieroglyphics, pyramid, pharaoh, and papyrus - Doodlebug was fascinated with the method of making papyrus) and critical thinking questions: How did geography affect the lives of ancient Egyptians? What were some of the problems that Pharaoh may have faced? That second question is to get him thinking about the problems all rulers face, but he doesn't know that yet.
Friday: On Friday the kids played a game called Mummy Maker on the BBC Kids web site. Then they wanted to make their own cartouches. We discussed the function of a true cartouche, and then I told the kids that if they wanted to make their own, they had a choice. I could look up some close hieroglyphic representations of their names and they could make Egyptian cartouches or they could make their own indecipherable cartouches based on their interests and things that are important to them. Of course, being Generation 2.0 children, they wanted their own custom images. Doodlebug made his out of clay; Boo made hers from paper. Both are designed to be hung from strings like necklaces so they could, theoretically, wear their cartouches everywhere.
I have to say, you can see the differences between them just by looking at the images!
I also gave them options of making scented oil - basil, rosemary, garlic - or virtually touring the inside of the Great Pyramid. These are definitely other project/video options to consider.
Week 8 Topic (when we return): Phoenicians and "Sea People"
Week 7 Topic: Egypt's Old Kingdom + mastabas, pyramids, mummies
Monday: Reading and notes. The kids picked two of the following choices: Story of the World chapters 2 and 4, Kingfisher Book of the Ancient World pages 28-31, Usborne World History Encyclopedia pages 114-117, or Life in Ancient Egypt pages 4-9, 20-22, and 26-27.
Tuesday: The kids finished their reading, and we noted any necessary revisions to their nine weeks' papers. They'll finish revising the paper and type them up in weeks 8 and 9, and hopefully I'll be allowed to post their work here. Doodlebug especially has surprised me - he decided to write his paper entirely from second-person perspective. It's an odd choice, but I think it works.
Wednesday: We filled in a map of Ancient Egypt, complete with the locations of pyramids, ancient cities along the Nile, and the general geography in and around Egypt like the Red Sea, the Mediterranean Sea, and the Sahara.
Thursday: Definitions (hieroglyphics, pyramid, pharaoh, and papyrus - Doodlebug was fascinated with the method of making papyrus) and critical thinking questions: How did geography affect the lives of ancient Egyptians? What were some of the problems that Pharaoh may have faced? That second question is to get him thinking about the problems all rulers face, but he doesn't know that yet.
Friday: On Friday the kids played a game called Mummy Maker on the BBC Kids web site. Then they wanted to make their own cartouches. We discussed the function of a true cartouche, and then I told the kids that if they wanted to make their own, they had a choice. I could look up some close hieroglyphic representations of their names and they could make Egyptian cartouches or they could make their own indecipherable cartouches based on their interests and things that are important to them. Of course, being Generation 2.0 children, they wanted their own custom images. Doodlebug made his out of clay; Boo made hers from paper. Both are designed to be hung from strings like necklaces so they could, theoretically, wear their cartouches everywhere.
I have to say, you can see the differences between them just by looking at the images!
I also gave them options of making scented oil - basil, rosemary, garlic - or virtually touring the inside of the Great Pyramid. These are definitely other project/video options to consider.
Week 8 Topic (when we return): Phoenicians and "Sea People"
Friday, August 30, 2013
"Writing" Projects
Right before we started school in July, Brave Writer came out with their latest book, Partnership Writing. It was on sale initially, so I purchased a copy. It goes through some of the Writer's Jungle basics, but then it also has a monthly project list. Some I liked; some I don't. Still, I figured I'd give some of them a shot. We started by spending a few weeks working on codes and ciphers. I snapped a couple of shots of the kids writing/painting messages with lemon juice 'invisible ink.'
M1, who is now Doodlebug for this blog's intents and purposes (I dunno... I'm just tired of referring to him by something that doesn't even remotely resemble a name, even if it does contain an initial, and I do call him Doodlebug at home on a regular basis), really enjoyed the code project. This is my child who is more naturally drawn to codes and ciphers and spy equipment at the store. M2, who is now Boo (because we started by calling her Beangirl, then Tinkerbean, then Tinkerboo, and now just Boo), enjoyed parts of it.
This week, however, instead of doing the next project on the list, I decided we'd do the homophone mini-book. We started making a homophone list on Monday and worked on it until Thursday. It's nowhere near comprehensive (at dinner tonight we realized steak/stake wasn't on the board... guess what our main dish was?), but we got about 60 sets of homophones.
I came up with some of them, but the kids came up with the majority. They really enjoyed the challenge! Then we created little books - three pieces of paper cut in half, then put together, folded in half, and stapled in the middle created nice little booklets.
Doodlebug let me photograph his.
His sense of humor really shines through, and I love that he took the time to really work on his illustrations. I gave them the choice of writing a sentence with the word or drawing an image, and his book is a good mixture of both. Boo went more for sentences, but then, she likes to write (she also wrote only one word per page... I'm not sure why Doodlebug did two per page. It certainly went beyond the initial scope of the project). She likes to draw, too, but only on her terms.
In the next day or so, I'll post our history lesson for this week. There won't be one for next week; we take Labor Day week as a break from school - our first break this year! The kids are excited, and so am I. It's time for some relaxation - as if that'll really happen. But it'll be nice to change up the schedule for a bit and relax.
Enjoy your weekend, everyone!
M1, who is now Doodlebug for this blog's intents and purposes (I dunno... I'm just tired of referring to him by something that doesn't even remotely resemble a name, even if it does contain an initial, and I do call him Doodlebug at home on a regular basis), really enjoyed the code project. This is my child who is more naturally drawn to codes and ciphers and spy equipment at the store. M2, who is now Boo (because we started by calling her Beangirl, then Tinkerbean, then Tinkerboo, and now just Boo), enjoyed parts of it.
This week, however, instead of doing the next project on the list, I decided we'd do the homophone mini-book. We started making a homophone list on Monday and worked on it until Thursday. It's nowhere near comprehensive (at dinner tonight we realized steak/stake wasn't on the board... guess what our main dish was?), but we got about 60 sets of homophones.
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| That's a lot of homophones |
Doodlebug let me photograph his.
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| Yes, son, toe jam IS stinky. |
In the next day or so, I'll post our history lesson for this week. There won't be one for next week; we take Labor Day week as a break from school - our first break this year! The kids are excited, and so am I. It's time for some relaxation - as if that'll really happen. But it'll be nice to change up the schedule for a bit and relax.
Enjoy your weekend, everyone!
Thursday, August 29, 2013
Inspiration in Adulthood is NOT the Same as That of Childhood
Yesterday I found inspiration in the Facebook status update of a friend. It read, in part, "Just purged the upstairs playroom, craft room, and the girls bathroom. I threw away a whole bag of junk."
It occurred to me as I read this that I'd been unhappy with my upstairs closets since we moved in. I had instantly unpacked the visible stuff, of course, and the general contents of the closets were acceptable, but when it had come to actually unpacking and arranging everything that was tucked away out of sight, that process... had never happened. It had fallen by the wayside. In the back of my mind (and in the forefront of my mind every time I opened the closet doors), I knew there were candles I'd never burn again, decorations the kids no longer wanted, pictures that will never be hung on the walls of this house, and just a bunch of stuff that, in general, doesn't need to be here. The kids' game room closet was in similar shape.
I don't have any 'before' pictures because, really, I don't know anyone who takes pictures of their closets (except that I really do intend to take pictures of the contents of everything in the house one day, just in case, for insurance purposes, because I'm actually paranoid like that), but I do have a couple of 'after' images.
The kids are working hard on the game room closet. It's in even more appalling shape than my closets because A) they're kids and B) I told them that as long as the door closed and things were relatively tidy, I wouldn't gripe at them. But they're making progress. They're discovering playing cards that they thought were long gone, puzzle pieces they thought they'd never see again, and various unidentifiable items that I'm just not even asking about. Ostrich Syndrome. Part of me wants to sneak up and take a picture of them working, but I'm finally ensconced on my couch with a sense of accomplishment and a stomach full of FreeBird and have no desire to move.
All I know is that we're going to make a massive donation to Goodwill soon. It feels so good to get everything cleaned out and rearranged into 'final' places. I did the same to a couple of kitchen drawers a couple of weeks ago and that felt good, too. I never, ever would have felt this way when I was a kid (I'm sure my kids are mentally cursing my name upstairs), but sometimes being an adult means taking pleasure in the little things. Like clean closets.
It occurred to me as I read this that I'd been unhappy with my upstairs closets since we moved in. I had instantly unpacked the visible stuff, of course, and the general contents of the closets were acceptable, but when it had come to actually unpacking and arranging everything that was tucked away out of sight, that process... had never happened. It had fallen by the wayside. In the back of my mind (and in the forefront of my mind every time I opened the closet doors), I knew there were candles I'd never burn again, decorations the kids no longer wanted, pictures that will never be hung on the walls of this house, and just a bunch of stuff that, in general, doesn't need to be here. The kids' game room closet was in similar shape.
I don't have any 'before' pictures because, really, I don't know anyone who takes pictures of their closets (except that I really do intend to take pictures of the contents of everything in the house one day, just in case, for insurance purposes, because I'm actually paranoid like that), but I do have a couple of 'after' images.
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| The carnage of empty boxes, trash box, and giveaway/sale items |
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| All purdy. It won't stay like that, but for now, all purdy |
All I know is that we're going to make a massive donation to Goodwill soon. It feels so good to get everything cleaned out and rearranged into 'final' places. I did the same to a couple of kitchen drawers a couple of weeks ago and that felt good, too. I never, ever would have felt this way when I was a kid (I'm sure my kids are mentally cursing my name upstairs), but sometimes being an adult means taking pleasure in the little things. Like clean closets.
Monday, August 26, 2013
Chronicles of Raising a Preadolescent, Vol. I
The last three weeks have been hell. At first I thought it was me, since I really had been in a funk, but the last three weeks have been particularly 'special' and I'm pretty sure I've figured out why.
And it has a name. What is it, you ask?
M1.
I love this child. I do. I have loved him ever since he had to be dragged out of my womb kicking and screaming. However, I swear to any deity willing to listen, I totally understand why young male lions are kicked out of the pride and told to go find their own territory because MOM AND DAD AREN'T PUTTING UP WITH IT ANY MORE. Hear me, boy? Do ya? Hm?
Something tells me I'm not getting through.
It might be the smirk.
It's 1:01 p.m. on a Monday. This is a school day. The boy has completed his work in precisely three subjects - grammar, spelling, and art - and even those weren't completed without waspishness and peevishness and snarkiness and all those other -nesses that encompass raising a child who is quite sure that A) the universe revolves around him, B) he knows more than anyone ever alive ever knew, and C) he must have the last word in any and all conversations.
For example, this morning, he tried to argue that newspapers weren't descriptive. We weren't talking about newspapers, and he was supposed to have been working on his own work, but he felt the need to interject one of his Ultimate Hypotheses into M2's grammar lesson. "I think article adjectives are called that because they're the only adjectives used in newspaper articles, because newspapers aren't very descriptive."
I can't invent this stuff. Thankfully a quick reading of some articles from well-known moments in history - the Civil War, 9/11, the Kennedy assassination - showed the boy the error of his statement. Did he actually acknowledge that I still might know more than him? Of course not. He put his head down on his desk and thoroughly ignored me. Because if it can't see you, you can't see it. Mantra of all Ostrich Children.
Then there was this: I was giving him his weekly spelling pretest. We do this so that if he knows most of or all of the words on the list, we don't waste time on a useless lesson. One of the words was 'animosity.' He spelled it incorrectly - a-n-a-m-o-c-i-t-y. Not a big deal; I put a dot by it and moved on. When it came time for him to learn the correct spelling, I pointed out that he'd gotten close and gave him props for that. Was that enough? Hardly. "It sounded like you were saying anAmosity, Mom, not anImosity. So that wasn't my fault."
Argh. Animosity. Yes. How do parents survive this? Any tips? I'm going to need the village for this one.
And it has a name. What is it, you ask?
M1.
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| Mug shot of personified Mayhem |
Something tells me I'm not getting through.
It might be the smirk.
It's 1:01 p.m. on a Monday. This is a school day. The boy has completed his work in precisely three subjects - grammar, spelling, and art - and even those weren't completed without waspishness and peevishness and snarkiness and all those other -nesses that encompass raising a child who is quite sure that A) the universe revolves around him, B) he knows more than anyone ever alive ever knew, and C) he must have the last word in any and all conversations.
For example, this morning, he tried to argue that newspapers weren't descriptive. We weren't talking about newspapers, and he was supposed to have been working on his own work, but he felt the need to interject one of his Ultimate Hypotheses into M2's grammar lesson. "I think article adjectives are called that because they're the only adjectives used in newspaper articles, because newspapers aren't very descriptive."
I can't invent this stuff. Thankfully a quick reading of some articles from well-known moments in history - the Civil War, 9/11, the Kennedy assassination - showed the boy the error of his statement. Did he actually acknowledge that I still might know more than him? Of course not. He put his head down on his desk and thoroughly ignored me. Because if it can't see you, you can't see it. Mantra of all Ostrich Children.
Then there was this: I was giving him his weekly spelling pretest. We do this so that if he knows most of or all of the words on the list, we don't waste time on a useless lesson. One of the words was 'animosity.' He spelled it incorrectly - a-n-a-m-o-c-i-t-y. Not a big deal; I put a dot by it and moved on. When it came time for him to learn the correct spelling, I pointed out that he'd gotten close and gave him props for that. Was that enough? Hardly. "It sounded like you were saying anAmosity, Mom, not anImosity. So that wasn't my fault."
Argh. Animosity. Yes. How do parents survive this? Any tips? I'm going to need the village for this one.
Sunday, August 25, 2013
Homemade History, Week 6
Because the past three weeks make me want to disavow all knowledge of my children and go hide in a Buddhist commune until they're grown and gone...
Because the stress level in my back and shoulders is so high I wake up feeling like I've just had a hard workout every day when, in fact, I haven't lifted a proper weight in months...
Because this upcoming week is the last week before our first break (we take Labor Day week off of school)...
Let's just say my school planning this week was less than spectacular. We didn't do much. Enjoy what little is here. Thanks, as always, for reading.
Week 6 Topic: Mesopotamia - Sumer and Akkad
Monday: Reading and notes. I purchased a book called Life in Ancient Mesopotamia, and M1 perused that while M2 read chapters 3 and 5 from Story of the World. (If you want shorter reading excerpts, the Kingfisher Book of the Ancient World has similar information on pages 20-21 and the Usborne World History Encyclopedia has some on pages 110-113.)
Tuesday: The kids finished up their rough drafts for their papers and swapped reading material. M2 has informed me that while the Sumerians might have been inventive, she wouldn't have wanted to live there. They were mean. I couldn't argue with that one.
Wednesday: Definitions (ziggurat, stylus, irrigate, relief) and critical thinking questions: Why is trading with other cities and cultures important? Why are records important? Why did the Mesopotamians settle in the Fertile Crescent? M1 found the questions fairly easy to answer after we watched a couple of videos, one from National Geographic Kids and one from a Youtube Channel called CrashCourse. The kids definitely preferred the second video, but M2 commented that the guy talks really, really fast. She was right. Also, in the interest of parental disclosure, the video does mention the word 'scoodilypooping,' which is a cutesy euphemism for sex. If that might bother you or your kids... well, you're smart. You know how this works. Watch at your own risk. But overall the information was informative and rather fun, as far as movies go. Oh, and I should mention that I handed the Epic of Gilgamesh to M1 to read this week, too.
Thursday: We put together a map of Mesopotamia using the Map Trek map (lots of Christian-based maps in that download, but there are enough that aren't for my purposes) for that particular region of Earth and talked about how the trade routes from Mesopotamia to Egypt went right through what is now Israel and how stories/myths can ALSO follow trade routes, which led right into discussing the myths of Sargon and Moses and comparing and contrasting the two. Interesting chat with the munchkins.
Friday: Project Day! M2 did some mystery pages on where the alphabet came from, concluding that our modern alphabet might be either Greek or Hebrew but definitely isn't Egyptian or Sumerian, and M1 built a Lego ziggurat.
OK, so I guess this doesn't sound too bad after all.
Next week: Egypt - The Old Kingdom (mastabas and pyramids, mummies, and the Hyksos)
Because the stress level in my back and shoulders is so high I wake up feeling like I've just had a hard workout every day when, in fact, I haven't lifted a proper weight in months...
Because this upcoming week is the last week before our first break (we take Labor Day week off of school)...
Let's just say my school planning this week was less than spectacular. We didn't do much. Enjoy what little is here. Thanks, as always, for reading.
Week 6 Topic: Mesopotamia - Sumer and Akkad
Monday: Reading and notes. I purchased a book called Life in Ancient Mesopotamia, and M1 perused that while M2 read chapters 3 and 5 from Story of the World. (If you want shorter reading excerpts, the Kingfisher Book of the Ancient World has similar information on pages 20-21 and the Usborne World History Encyclopedia has some on pages 110-113.)
Tuesday: The kids finished up their rough drafts for their papers and swapped reading material. M2 has informed me that while the Sumerians might have been inventive, she wouldn't have wanted to live there. They were mean. I couldn't argue with that one.
Wednesday: Definitions (ziggurat, stylus, irrigate, relief) and critical thinking questions: Why is trading with other cities and cultures important? Why are records important? Why did the Mesopotamians settle in the Fertile Crescent? M1 found the questions fairly easy to answer after we watched a couple of videos, one from National Geographic Kids and one from a Youtube Channel called CrashCourse. The kids definitely preferred the second video, but M2 commented that the guy talks really, really fast. She was right. Also, in the interest of parental disclosure, the video does mention the word 'scoodilypooping,' which is a cutesy euphemism for sex. If that might bother you or your kids... well, you're smart. You know how this works. Watch at your own risk. But overall the information was informative and rather fun, as far as movies go. Oh, and I should mention that I handed the Epic of Gilgamesh to M1 to read this week, too.
Thursday: We put together a map of Mesopotamia using the Map Trek map (lots of Christian-based maps in that download, but there are enough that aren't for my purposes) for that particular region of Earth and talked about how the trade routes from Mesopotamia to Egypt went right through what is now Israel and how stories/myths can ALSO follow trade routes, which led right into discussing the myths of Sargon and Moses and comparing and contrasting the two. Interesting chat with the munchkins.
Friday: Project Day! M2 did some mystery pages on where the alphabet came from, concluding that our modern alphabet might be either Greek or Hebrew but definitely isn't Egyptian or Sumerian, and M1 built a Lego ziggurat.
OK, so I guess this doesn't sound too bad after all.
Next week: Egypt - The Old Kingdom (mastabas and pyramids, mummies, and the Hyksos)
Tuesday, August 20, 2013
In Which I (Try to) Run
So I've been in a funk lately - somehow I'm sure I've mentioned that and may be flogging that particular horse far, far longer than I should - and have been attempting to self-diagnose my underlying issue. It occurred to me sometime last week that I haven't exercised in a while and I'm pretty sure my endorphins are lazy and don't bother to activate themselves for any reason other than getting bitch-slapped and told to move it, move it.
It's also been cooler this summer than the previous two, and the highs have only been around 90, not 190. Or 110, which is pretty much the same thing.
On Friday I went for a walk. It was nice. I didn't have an immense psychological breakthrough or anything, but my legs certainly informed me in no uncertain terms that they had been under-utilized lately and reminded me that exercise really shouldn't be optional at my age.
Getting older sucks.
The weather remained nice enough that I went out again on Sunday night. Oz came with me. We both brought our headphones and walked in relative silence next to one another for most of the distance, but just as we reached the nice downward-sloping hill to the house, Green Day's song "Nice Guys Finish Last" started playing.
You can't not run to that song, and so I trotted slowly down the hill and rounded the corner onto the cul-de-sac toward home. I made it home only slightly more out of breath than I had already been, and this thought suddenly popped into my head: "Why don't I add a little more jogging to the walk? Maybe at the end? Just to end on a positive note?"
It's a sign of how far down my brain has gone that I was even contemplating this. I am not a runner. My knees say no, and so does my physique. It's kind of like that scene from Will & Grace, the gym scene that goes like this:
I should not consider running. I know this. However, in my altered-brain state, it sounded like an excellent idea. And so, last night, I put my headphones back on and headed out. All through the walk, I was psyching myself up to jog the entire cul-de-sac at the end. When I finally reached the cul-de-sac, I turned, took a couple of deep breaths...
and remembered EXACTLY why I should not run.
It was a combination of the above image and something else... the fact that apparently if you jog and have just the right body type, your ass will actually smack against your thighs as you run, which produces a sound nobody should ever hear.
I did not make it all the way around the cul-de-sac in that state.
Perhaps there is a reason that I tell the kids, "Old people don't run."
It's also been cooler this summer than the previous two, and the highs have only been around 90, not 190. Or 110, which is pretty much the same thing.
On Friday I went for a walk. It was nice. I didn't have an immense psychological breakthrough or anything, but my legs certainly informed me in no uncertain terms that they had been under-utilized lately and reminded me that exercise really shouldn't be optional at my age.
Getting older sucks.
The weather remained nice enough that I went out again on Sunday night. Oz came with me. We both brought our headphones and walked in relative silence next to one another for most of the distance, but just as we reached the nice downward-sloping hill to the house, Green Day's song "Nice Guys Finish Last" started playing.
You can't not run to that song, and so I trotted slowly down the hill and rounded the corner onto the cul-de-sac toward home. I made it home only slightly more out of breath than I had already been, and this thought suddenly popped into my head: "Why don't I add a little more jogging to the walk? Maybe at the end? Just to end on a positive note?"
It's a sign of how far down my brain has gone that I was even contemplating this. I am not a runner. My knees say no, and so does my physique. It's kind of like that scene from Will & Grace, the gym scene that goes like this:
GRACE: Ok, her... [POINTING TO A WOMAN] Could I ever have a body like hers?
WILL: Well, she appears to be of Nordic descent. They tend toward the live and bosomy, so--so as to help their buoyancy whilst navigating down the fjords.
GRACE: So...no?
WILL: Grace, you don't want that kind of a body. You're a--you're of a hardier peasant stock. Yours is a body built for...
GRACE: What? Linebacking?
WILL: No, no. Picking and carrying baskets of onions to market. On your head.
I should not consider running. I know this. However, in my altered-brain state, it sounded like an excellent idea. And so, last night, I put my headphones back on and headed out. All through the walk, I was psyching myself up to jog the entire cul-de-sac at the end. When I finally reached the cul-de-sac, I turned, took a couple of deep breaths...
and remembered EXACTLY why I should not run.
 |
| My high school history teacher even nicknamed me Phoebe. This should have told me something. |
I did not make it all the way around the cul-de-sac in that state.
Perhaps there is a reason that I tell the kids, "Old people don't run."
Sunday, August 18, 2013
Homemade History, Week 5
This is our last week of traveling around the world at what seems like warp time/speed. In week 6, we're headed back to Mesopotamia. Still, this week was fun! We watched several videos, sketched maps, and even built our own version of a calendar in the round.
Week 5 Topic: Ancient America - Mesoamerica, Olmecs and Maya
Monday: Reading and notes. M2 read the Story of the World (chapter 26) and Usborne World History (pp. 178-181); M1 read the Kingfisher Book of the Ancient World (pp. 130-137) and the Usborne pages as well.
Tuesday: The kids worked on their papers. M1 felt especially prepared for this week's lesson due to the studying he'd already been doing on the Olmecs, so I let him share some of his findings with M1 and me. He liked that.
Wednesday: We put together a map on Wednesday. We started by using a blank black-line map of the Americas, both north and south. Using the following maps, we drew a rough map of SOME of the ancient tribes in the Americas:
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| Eastern North America |
 |
| Southwestern North America |
 |
| Mesoamerica |
We also talked a bit about the fact that there were tribes in what is now Canada, South America, etc. but that they simply aren't discussed very often and that we aren't going to cover them in this class... and I made sure the kids were aware that not all of these tribes overlapped, either. It's hard to pick and choose, ya know?
I also gave M2 his questions on Wednesday:
1. Would you have preferred living with the Olmecs or the Maya? (The Olmecs won his vote.)
2. Both of these peoples played ball games. If you were going to invent a ball game, what would you call it? What would some of the rules be? (M1 really liked this question and came up with a sort of hand ball/lacrosse game that I thought would be quite interesting.)
Thursday: We started with definitions (temple, sacrifice, fortification, peninsula) and moved from there to videos. We didn't watch all of this video on the Olmecs, but we did watch some of it; we also watched this video on Mayan math.
Friday: Friday project! First, we watched this short video about the basics of the Mayan calendar. I explained to the kids that the Maya didn't have weeks - only years, months, and days, as well as longer epochs on the (not shown in the video) Long Count calendar. This confused the heck out of M2, so we set out to make our own mostly-Mayan-based calendar in the round. Wikipedia to the rescue! Soon after (and I apologize for the poor photography) we constructed our own calendar in the round. The kids loved finding their birthdays in rough Mayan equivalent. Some other activities that we considered were resurrecting the atlatl idea, drinking spiced hot chocolate, and playing around with Mayan math/numbers (which M1 had done in the past).
Next week: The Fertile Crescent/Mesopotamia, Sumerians, Akkadians
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