Welcome to my home gym

What this house needed was some good, old-fashioned exercise. And where in the world but Wal*Mart to buy it?

I found a mini-trampoline or rebounder for $19.99 and a jump rope for $2.94 (the kind in the sports department, not the kind in the toy department). I could have splurged for the $4.96 model, with ball bearings for faster, more fluid movement, but I chose the budget route.

Add a book of jump rope rhymes from the library, and VOILA! Home gym! As in, this is my home, AND it's my gym!

The kids have been jumping and hopping and bouncing for three days. They were actually sore when they awoke this morning! Houdin is the sports-oriented guy, and the one most prone to competition, so he challenged everyone to a competition to see who could jump rope the longest. Currently, he has me beat...55 jumps to my 39.

With all this jumping, I hope my bladder holds up.

Here's a bad idea...

Eleven boys.

A sleepover.

Lots of sugar.

Just wait. I haven't come to the bad idea yet.

No, I'm not kidding.

Here's the bad idea. Maybe the very best bad idea I've ever had. Give each of the boys a disposable camera. Tell them to take pictures of anything they want. Here's what they take pictures of:

Me waking up in the morning.
Me in my pajamas.
Me without make up.
Me giving my husband a stern look.
The backs of my arms. I didn't know they were that fat.
Me, from behind, from the waist down. Just my butt and the backs of my legs. I didn't know they were that fat.
A very closeup picture of the back of my waist. I think you know how I felt about that.
Fourteen pictures of the baby chicks. From 15 feet away. I got doubles.
A picture of my very messy pantry. Seven times.
Me with my mouth hanging open. Wide. Just like the closeup of my waist.
Thirty-two extreme and very blurry closeups of each boy's ice cream sundae creation. Again, doubles.

I did get several pictures of both of the birthday boys blowing out the candles of their cakes. Several, because I got doubles.

Amazingly enough, I did not end up with a single picture of any boy's private parts. Not enough sugar, I guess.

A Natural Interest

Monet is 9. He's the first child I've had who I didn't insist on "teaching" him to spell. But somehow, he has this natural interest in spelling that amazes me. Right now, he's writing a miniature book about Christmas, and as I sat across from him, eating my lunch, he asked me to spell some of the harder words for him.

"How do you spell "straight?"

"S-T-R-A-I-G-H-T."

"I know how to spell 'said.'" He says.

"You do?"

"And I know how to spell 'by,' like 'by Monet,' and 'bye' like 'goodbye,' and 'buy,' like 'buy something.'"

"You're very smart!"

"So are you. You're the one who taught me."

Awwww. :-)

Hit the Ground Running

There are days when you wake up and you hit the ground running. Today is one of those days for me.

It's amazing how fast things can pile up. It seems that everywhere I look, there's a reminder of what I didn't do, can't do, should do, must do. For some reason, no matter how much I DO do (did I just say do do?) it's not enough. I go to bed exhausted every night, and I wake up exhausted every morning. Sometimes, I wonder if sleep is real, or if it's just an illusion and cruel joke that gives mothers hope for rest.

Yesterday, I spent the day working towards fulfilling one of my 101 in 1001 goals, to clean my room to my satisfaction once a week. I like the fact that it's to MY satisfaction, because that means I can stop whenever I'm satisfied. That means I can clean it until all of the underwear is ironed and folded, or I can stop when I've cleared a walking path to the computer. Since I worked at the local cheesehouse just about every weekday from early November on through the first of this year, and since we went for a week without electricity over the Christmas holiday, I haven't had a chance to clean my room to my satisfaction in about two months, even if that means clearing a path to the computer. So I put it on my list of things to do consistently for the next 1001 days.

I can't believe it's taking me so long. I worked on it on Monday. I worked on it most of the day on Tuesday. It's still not done. What are the main culprits? Laundry. Clothes that need to be stored. Even in this big, new house, I don't have enough storage, and the storage I do have isn't organized well enough to be perfectly useful. Don't let anyone fool you, even those slick "101 Tips for Organizing Your Life" magazines at the Wal*Mart checkout. There is no perfect storage solution. Well, there IS one. Don't own anything.

After lots of Windex, vacuuming, folding laundry and dusting, I finally got the majority of my bedroom clean. It's not to my satisfaction, yet, but I still have a few more days before the week is over. Besides, if I wait until tomorrow, my standards may have changed, and it may be just right.

In the mean time, the rest of the house is coming tumbling down.

Do you ever feel like you're just struggling to keep your head above water? Do you ever feel like you're constantly just trying to catch up?

Granted, I spent a lot of time yesterday just playing and laughing with the kids. Bard, Houdin and I spent a good hour just laying on my bed and laughing, laughing, laughing. I spent a lot of time working on my blog and updating my 101 in 1001 list. But not so much that I should have a sink full of dishes, a stack of laundry ten feet high, and a bed that STILL isn't made at 3:00 in the afternoon!

Sigh.

Wasn't it Benjamin Franklin who made a list of things he wanted to do to better himself? Wasn't he the one who found that, no matter how hard you work to perfect one area of your life, another area suffers?

My bedroom is (mostly) clean.

The rest of my life is totally and completely suffering.

Maybe I'll spend the rest of the day in my room. Or at Wal*Mart. I could always use some more stuff I can't store. Or right here in front of the computer. Maybe I should have put that on my list. "Sit in front of the computer for six hours straight every day." I bet I could have met that goal easily. But then...

How long do you think it would take before my family actually got sick of the messes and cleaned them up...[gasp]...INDEPENDENTLY?!? Without being told?

::Looks around the computer room:: I don't have enough food and water in this room to survive that long. I'm not sure I have enough food and water IN THE HOUSE to survive that long. As a matter of fact, I don't know if there's enough food and water AT WAL*MART to survive that long.

Maybe I should just go back to laughing with my kids.

Houdin's First Gig

Today, I talked to a woman at our local senior center who was very thrilled at the prospect of having my 13 year old son, Houdin, perform magic tricks for the residents. We have an appointment for him to do a 1/2 hour or more performance next Thursday afternoon.

Houdin is way excited.

Broken Branches--A Plea to All Fathers

Broken Branches 

The Wednesday before Christmas, the weatherman promised sixteen to eighteen inches of snow. I was working at the local cheesehouse in the mail order department when the first few inches started to fall. Shortly after one o'clock, I put on my coat, gave a few instructions to Ashley and Ursula, and made my way down the spiral staircase that separated my little office in the tower from the rest of the building.

I was off to a hauling job.

About two months ago, I started taking appointments to haul Amish. To the doctor, to the grocery store, to their sister's house to make cookies. Wherever. I charge per mile with a small fee if I have to wait while they shop. Usually, I just shop, too. On that particular Wednesday, the young Amish mother that I would be hauling was taking her baby girl to the doctor.

It wasn't long after I had dropped Rachel off in front of the doctor's office that the snow really started to fall heavily. I hadn't seen a snow like this in many years, and it was as exciting as it was scary. A white Christmas! I thought. As long as we could get home in one piece, I might even look forward to being snowed in with my family for a few days. When the young Amish girl finished her doctor's appointment, we both headed to the local grocery store to stock up.

Before we had even driven the few miles from the grocery store to my passenger's house, the snow had completely covered the roads so that they were barely visible. People were creeping along in their vehicles and there were already several cars on the roadsides, stuck. Even my attempt to get home was thwarted. I had to park in a nearby driveway because I just couldn't get my van up the hill of a local back road. Thank God for a co-worker, who just happened to be going my way and stopped to give me a ride in his 4-wheel drive truck. I told him not to try to make it up my steep drive. He dropped me at the end of the long lane to my house, and I walked the rest of the way, the snow turning to sleet and pelting me hard in the face.

When I awoke the next morning, there was truly a winter wonderland glistening outside my bedroom window. It was a dangerously beautiful scene, and, before long, it became apparent that not only would we be staying home for the day--maybe even the weekend--but that we would be fighting to stay warm. Sometime in the night, the power had gone out. After listening to the local radio station, we found that the continuing ice storm had left most of our county without power, and that the problems were only increasing.

I made my way to the couch, snuggled under my grandmother-in-law's thick comforter, and I looked through our windows over the gorgeous glimmering countryside. Every branch was covered with a thick layer of ice, and the heavy sleet continued falling. When all was quiet, you could hear the limbs and branches cracking, breaking, falling all around the house, all through the woods. As I sat, I watched my oldest daughter Bard's favorite tree sag under the weight of it's burden. One by one, I wagered with myself over which branch would crack and fall next. Before it was all over, dozens of once-strong limbs lay on the ground around the roots of what had been a full and sturdy tree just two months ago.

I recalled these moments today, two and a half weeks after the power had gone out, a week and a half after it had returned. What brought the scene to mind was a single comment that my father made, something he undoubtedly thought was very funny.

Being the butt of the joke, I didn't find it funny at all.

My father's kind of amusement--this brand of comment--isn't knew to me. When I was a child, I heard my father shower his icy comments onto my mother's branches for many years, many times, and I watched as her strength gave way and her limbs broke under the weight of his words. It was all a game to him.

"Are you eating again? Neice! You'd better hide the fridge!" The branch bends.
"Where'd you get that outfit--Akron Tent and Awning?" The branch cracks.
"Don't make your mother mad. She might sit on ya." The branch falls to the ground.

The comments weren't always directed at my mom, either. My father would make remarks about other women, and he just couldn't seem to keep his mouth shut or supress a smart-alek comment if an overweight woman was in view.

"Woohoo! Did you see that big lady? Wouldn't wanna make her mad!"
"Wow! Look at that one! Hea-ea-ea-vy!"
"Get a load of Big Mama!"

I grew up listening to, embarrassed by, these demeaning comments almost daily. I never saw my father give my mother affection. I never heard my father speak about women with respect. Instead, every woman was either "kinda pretty" or "really heavy." Every woman, no matter her occupation, personality or lifestyle, was very verbally judged based on her appearance. She could be the first female president, the inventor of a life-saving vaccine, or the first female astronaut in space, and his only comment would be either, "Kinda pretty," or "Big Mama!" And while his comments were never directed at me--only because I was always grossly underweight, bordering on anorexic--it was very clear to me that being overweight was a condition for which to be demeaned and ridiculed by men.

Now I'm grown, my parents have long been divorced, and my mother is no longer living.

And I am no longer grossly underweight.

I've struggled with being overweight since the birth of my first child. Looking back on my postpartum body of 15 years ago, I realize that I was perfectly healthy. But being anything over 100 pounds, to me, was unacceptable. Instead of getting involved in a healthy lifestyle, I began to fast and binge. Now, after five children and fifteen years, my body is showing the consequences of my choices. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't worry about my health, my energy, but, most of all, my appearance. I can't help but think that my unhealthy body image comes greatly from my father's careless comments. Now that he lives with me, I hear them on a daily basis. He has never directed them towards me.

Until today.

This morning, an Amish neighbor called on the phone for me to discuss the details of the ride she needed for this evening. My dad answered the phone. There was a brief exchange that went something like this:

"Hello? Oh, hi Laura! Yeah! You want Denice? Boy, is she ever! Ha ha! Don't tell her I said that! Boy, would she give me heck!" My dad handed me the phone, laughing. I knew he had ridiculed me. He often makes fun of me for my child-rearing, my decision-making, my housekeeping...whatever he can find to jab at me. I took the phone and spoke to my neighbor, but I was instead distracted by my dad's voice as he bragged to my husband, Bohemian, about his juvenile comment:

"Ha! Laura asked if Denice was 'round! Ha! I told her, 'Boy, is she ever!' Laura said, 'Don't you tell her you said that!' Ha! Ha ha!"

I was crushed. I could feel my limbs sag under the weight of his icy words.

The amazing thing about ice storms is that it really doesn't matter how strong are the roots of the tree. It doesn't matter how much nourishment and rain it received through the spring, or how much sun and warmth it received through the summer, or how much mulch and protection it received through the fall. When the weight of an ice storm comes, the tree simply can't stand the stress. One by one, the branches bend, crack and fall. I even saw several that were completely uprooted, literally torn from the ground as if by a tornado.

My husband compliments me on a daily basis. He tells me that I'm beautiful. No, I'm not, I retort. He tells me that he loves me. Why? I challenge. He tells me that he finds me desirable, sexy, attractive. Yeah, right, I scoff. He showers his nourishment, his sunshine, his protection on me. And yet, it's the ice storm that my father brings that keeps coming to my mind every time I look at myself in the mirror. It's the chill and the sleet and the burden of that ice that weighs down my branches. I can't accept compliments. I can't believe that a man would love me. I reject my husband's compliments and his unconditional love, because I'm so certain that I'm not worthy of it. Intimacy, for me, is a constant struggle.

Fathers, don't kid yourselves. Don't underestimate the role you play in your daughter's growth. Every word you speak, whether to your daughters, your wives, or even about the people around you, soak directly into your growing child's roots. You have so much power in your words! You have the power to grow a strong, sturdy oak with a firm foundation and a beautiful crown, flourishing under a canopy of love and encouragement. Or you can produce or a deeply burdened, sagging, broken form whose roots simply can't bear the weight of winter, no matter how much others nourish and protect it.

I beg you, fathers. I beg you to reject the temptation to tear down your family with mockery and hurtful jesting and to instead choose wisdom and encouragement. Your children will flourish with your love. Your actions will matter for eternity.

And your family tree will thank you.

Books Bard has Read Recently

This is actually Bard posting at Mom's request. So hi everyone.

Trickster's Queen, Tamora Pierce,
Candle in the Darkness, Lynn Austin,
Fire by Night, Lynn Austin,
Secret of the Indian, Lynne Reid Banks (re-read),
Bud, Not Buddy, Christopher Paul Curtis,
Messenger, Lois Lowry,
Steven Spielberg, biography,
Wee Free Men, Terry Pratchet,
The Middle Moffat, Eleanor Estes (re-read),
Dragons in the Water, Madeline L'Engle (re-read).

I think that's pretty much it, though I may have forgotten a few re-reads. I'm about to read The Hero and the Crown by Robin McKinley, and listening to The Cat Who Brought Down the House by Lilian Jackson Braun while I cross stitch.

As American as a Food Allergy...

This article , referred by MamaGeph at Still Odd, discusses how one school is handling a child's severe peanut allergy by segregating to one table all children who bring peanut butter sandwiches to school. Apparently, the child with the allergy is so deathly allergic that he doesn't have to actually ingest the peanut butter to be in severe danger. As a result, all of the other children in the school must be screened for peanut butter and made to sit in the "Peanut Gallery" if they are bringing PBJ in their lunch.

The parents of the child with the allergy issued the statement that ""he does not have to ingest it for his air to constrict and he loses the ability to breathe. We have the medical evidence that shows that our son has one of the worst allergies on record for this food."

First, this makes me wonder...if just sending your child to the lunchroom each day is a hazard to his health, why not keep that child out of the lunchroom? Why ostracize all of the other children because of one child's allergy?

Better yet, why not control the child's learning environment completely? I think you know what I'm getting at here. I know that many homeschooling parentsmake their decision to homeschool in part because of the potential dangers of some of the public school systems. So, if your child is highly allergic to a substance commonly found in his learning environment, a substance that could very well end his life, why not...ahem...change his learning environment? It seems like a perfectly reasonable option to me.

But the part of the article that caught my attention even more was this part:

"Food allergists say peanut allergies (search) among school-aged children have doubled to 400,000 over the last five years. They can't explain the spike but said it has caused more schools to creatively accommodate allergic students."

Doubled?? In the last five years, there are TWICE as many school-aged children allergic to peanuts? Food allergists can't explain the spike. It makes me wonder...what kind of research has been done? Has there been any extensive research on the kind of chemicals--herbicides and pesticides--that have been used to grow peanuts in the past, say, twenty years? After all, a peanut is a root and I would imagine that any chemicals they receive are systemic.

The sidebar of the article states that "C-Section babies are at risk for food allergies." Higher risk? Or just risk?

Now...get this: there is a possible cure for peanut, milk and wheat allergies. It's based on a foodborne bacteria called (pregnant women, hold onto your seats) Listeria. Listeria is one of the baddy bacteria we kill when we pasteurize milk. Huh. Imagine that. A cure for allergies in real, honest-to-goodness, raw whole milk.

The Weston A. Price foundation must be beside themselves with triumph. Not familiar with that organization? Check it out. And then find a raw-milk producer in your area and star t drinkin'!

Can YOU?

The HH's 101 in 1001: My 101 Things to Accomplish

The Happy Housewife did it! Can YOU?

Times Trials...

We're working on quick memorization of multiplication facts. Tonight, we did a time trial for our nines facts. Here's how it worked out:

Bohemian: 17 seconds
Me: 21 seconds
Bard: 52 seconds
Houdin: 1 minute, 7 seconds
Monet: 6 minutes, 32 seconds

Pop Quiz: How fast can you write your 9 times facts? Have someone write them in random order and time you!

Happy, Happy Anniversary

Today is my Crystal Anniversary. Yep, that's right. Fifteen complete and total years of marriage to my beloved Bohemian.
Since we didn't buy each other anything for Christmas, we're planning a romantic shopping trip for two. With no money.
Ah, well. At least we have each other.

Pop Quiz: If it were your Crystal Anniversary, what would you do? What would you buy for your beloved? What would you buy for yourself?

Pa is *SO* Hot!

I'm pretty amazed by the popularity of one of the Christmas gifts I gave my oldest daughter, Bard, this year. And it's not just popular with her...the whole family's nutty about it!

Earlier this year, we began reading the Little House on the Prairie books. Finishing them is on my 101 in 1,001 list. I told my kids how much I used to love the television show, starring Michael Landon. I looked up the series on NetFlix, and, sure enough, there it was. Before I could even get it on my queue, the kids had brought one of the DVDs home from the library. We watched the first show in Series One and they were hooked. I have to admit, I was hooked again, too. I had forgotten what an awesome show it was.

The problem came when my dad, who's not very particular about the movies he chooses, brought home a disc from Season 6. I laid down the law. No watching the series out of order! After all, what impact will it have when Mary goes blind? Or how can we fully appreciate what a scoundrel Nellie is when Laura pushes her down the hill in a wheelchair unless we watch all of the awful things Nellie has done to Laura over the years? No more Little House DVDs from the library, I said. You simply must wait until they come from NetFlix. My motivation was to get through the books first, so that they children could see that the television series really wasn't much like the book series at all.

What I didn't expect was how eager the kids were to get their hands on the rest of the DVDs. Bard, for one, was totally into Pa. "You didn't tell me Pa was so hot!" she said. To be honest, it never occured to me. I mean, when I was a kid, Pa was just...Pa. :-/ I wouldn't have minded having him for a dad, to be sure. But that's just because he was warm and loving and wise, which was, ahem, in stark contrast to my own father.

I did the bulk of my Christmas shopping in three places this year. I shopped at Toys R Us for a doll, stroller and play food for the little girls, a local educational toy store for Playmobil stuff, and Sam's Club, because they're so awesome. I bought the kids a cool treehouse playset there, as well as all of my wrapping paper and most of my holiday foods. When I walked into Sam's Club to do my shopping, I decided to check out the DVD aisle. Bard wanted Pirates of the Carribean, so I thought I'd see if they had it.

Nope. No Captain Jack Sparrow here. But, Aha! They do have some good ones.

• Elf, which is a new surprise favorite of mine ("I like smiling. Smiling's my favorite!")
• Miracle on 34th Street, the newer one with Richard Attenborough and that adorable Mara Wilson
• Christmas Classics, with Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer, Frosty the Snowman, Frosty Returns, The Little Drummer Boy and Santa Claus is Coming to Town.
• And...oh, what's this? The Little House on the Prairie series! Awesome! I buy Series 2 (about 18 hours of shows) immediately because they don't have Series 1 in stock. I find Series 1 later and buy it, too.

I'll tell ya what...these kids, from 15 year-old-Bard all the way down to almost-two-year-old The Baby have just LOVED these shows! I can totally not remember a time when my children literally CHEERED at the TV like they did during Founder's Day or yelled at the screen like they do at the love-to-hate-her Nellie Oelson.

That was awesome programming, don't you think? I'm not a big TV fan. In fact, we don't have cable, satellite or even television reception. Maybe I'm just being overly nostalgic. Are there ANY shows being produced currently that are as awesome and inspiring as Little House?

I highly doubt it.

What Is 101 in 1001?

What Is 101 in 1001?

I finished my list of 101 goals for the next 1,001 days, as I read about here and here. I'm keeping a blog of my progress here.

Wanna join me?

Who ARE you???

Chris, over at the Big Yellow House says that today is Delurking Day. So, heavens to Betsy, stop lurking around and POST something!

Well, maybe not EVERYTHING...

Last night, while we were playing the game of Life, I was lamenting the fact that I have to cook, clean, teach, do the finances, blah, blah, blah. Bohemian was rolling his eyes.

"Look," I said, "It's totally true. I have to do EVERYTHING!"

Without looking up from the Life gameboard, Monet said, "You don't brush my teeth. Or pick my nose."

Ah, but if they could think of a way to make it possible...

Bard's Handwork

While my in-laws were visiting last week, we went shopping in one of the little touristy places in our area. Bard accidentally found a stash of really yummy yarns in one of the shops, and we both drooled over all of the possible projects we could start, but I restrained myself and told Bard that we have enough of a yarn stash to complete several, several, SEVERAL projects!

A few shops down was a cross stitch shop. While I have a bunch of cross stitch patterns in the basement, most of them are patterns that don't really interest me anymore. They're so hopelessly country, with cows and ducks and bunnies and things I see die on a regular basis that I just don't to spend hours stitching them or decorating my house with them. As we were walking out, we saw a framed work that Bard couldn't resist--a beautiful fairy adorned with metallic threads and glittery beads. I figured, since she has that bohemian blood, like her dad, it would be good for her to add to her repetoire of insomnia remedies. She reads, she knits...now, she can stitch.

She started the project today. It's on 32-count linen and has a billion colors. She says I've threatened her with her life if she doesn't finish it, but I really didn't. I didn't say anything more than, "You'd better finish this, or else..."

And this is a Sting Ray...

For Christmas, my father-in-law bought Monet a notebook-type drawing book called Draw Really Cool Stuff. It has six tabbed drawing sectionsand boasts that there are "hundreds of exciting and fun images to draw." It wasn't the first thing he attacked when he opened his grandparents' gifts (it's hard to compete with a HoverDisc and a HoverCopter) but in the past two days, both he and Houdin have been drawing like mad. They seem to be especially drawn (no pun intended) to the ocean animals and the cars.

Yesterday, Houdin went to the library with my dad and while he was there, asked if they had any drawing contests coming up. They actually did! There was a contest for drawing superheroes, so Houdin drew some kind of blue superhero and turned it in before he left.

Thanks for the book, Grandpa. ;-)

Houdin's Math

Houdin is working on his multiplication tables today. He's trying to memorize his 9s. I gave him the little trick that every product of 9x any single digit will have a sum of nine when added together. He thought that was pretty cool. Now he's working on a 9x time trial. His first effort gave him three wrong and it took him over three minutes.

Pop quiz:

Do you have all of your multiplication table memorized?
How old are you?
How fast can you recite your nines?

Triplux - 101 Things To Do in 1001 Days

Triplux - 101 Things To Do in 1001 Days I found this site through another site which had me on their blogroll. This looks very inviting, and I just may do it. What do you think?

Strong Coffee's Mondo Beyondo List

Strong Coffee

When I have time, I want to do a list like this. Have you done one? If you do, will you let me know?

Smarty Shots...(AKA Dixie Cup Learning)

I came up with a fun little reading practice game today. Here's how it works:

Get some little Dixie Cups and a permanent marker. Find a kind of little candy that makes your kid weak in the knees. I used Smarties. You could use M&Ms or Skittles or whatever you want.

Write a single letter on each cup. Label enough cups for you to be able to make words with the cups. For instance, label one cup "C," one "A" and one "T."

Make as many cups as you think your child can sound out. This can work with younger kids OR with older kids.

Arrange a series of cups in order so that they spell a word. Place a Smarty, M&M or whatever in each cup. If it's a hard word, you can put an extra piece of candy in one or two of the cups.

Have the child read the word. If she reads it, she gets to put the candies in a cup with her name on it. Alternately, you can just let her have the "candy shot" right then! It's funny to see them "drink" the candy out of the cups one right after the other. If you'd rather, they can save all of the candies until you're done with the game. If they read the word incorrectly, the candies stay in the cup. The next time that letter is used in a word and the child reads the word correctly, she gets all of the candies in the cup.

VARIATION: Write "Beginning," "Middle" and "End" on the cups. Say a word, and then say a sound. Ask if the sound is at the beginning, the middle or the end of the word. The child puts the candy in the cup she thinks is right...the beginning, middle or end. If she's right, she keeps the candy. If she's wrong, the candy stays in until she gets the answer on that cup right.

ANOTHER VARIATION: Write letters on the cups. Say a word that begins with one of the letters. Have the child put the candy in the letter whose sound begins the word. If she's right, she gets the candies. If she's wrong, it stays until she gets an answer right that begins with that letter.

I'm sure there are a bunch of variatons that can be used with Dixie cups and learning. Do you have any suggestions? Tell me about them!

Reading and Math

Last night, Sweetheart and I worked on her math facts. She has her doubles through six just about memorized.

Today we're working on reading and letter recognition.

Later today, Monet and I are going to make muffins. He's at the library with Houdin and Grandpa right now.

That About Says It

The Big Yellow House: So What Have You Been Up To?:

"In my dream the house came with a maid and the children were better behaved. "

Unaware--a Poem Ode to Winter in o-HI-o

Unaware

by Thicket Dweller

The garden hose and
leaf rakes are still
lying in the driveway
And up against the house
the bike rack leans
The cooler from
the picnic is still
Camped out of the front porch.
I'm afraid to look inside...
It might be filled with old
Baked Beans

There's a soccer ball,
deflated, resting lonely
in the front yard.
Someone left their old sunglasses
tarnished, on the still porch swing.
Beneath that sits an dry dead plant.
Seems that I forgot to water
it--had good intentions when I bought it
at the nursery this Spring.

Winter took me unaware again.
It was falling into Autumn, into blazing leave and then
One morning I woke up and the snow was in a spin.
How'd it take me unaware again?

There are boots beside the sandals
In a puddle in the hallway
and a bathing suit's still hanging
from the shower curtain rod.
Look! That calendar is showing that it's well into December!
Yet I don't remember turning it.
That thing must be a fraud.

Winter took me unaware again.
I was falling into Autumn, into blazing leaves, and then
One morning I woke up and the snow was in a spin.
How'd it take me unaware again?

Huh. The temp is 55 now.
Well, that's winter in Ohio.
If you don't like what the weather is,
just stick around and it will change.
Or just wish for snow at Christmastime
While you're gayly whistling "Greensleeves"
And setting out your manger.

Still, I can't imagine weather
warm as this in January
Well, I'd better get to work
since I've been given a reprieve.
Guess I'll go clean out that cooler,
Use that rake for what it's made for.
Glad the trash bags aren't paid for
by each pound of sopping leaves.

Sheesh! It's getting kinda chilly.
Maybe I should put my coat on.
Oh, Good Lord! Is that a snowflake?
It was just as warm as May!
Sure enough, here comes a blizzard.
I should go shovel the sidewalk.
But I didn't dump that stuff there.
Nope, it's gonna have to stay.

Winter took me unaware again.
I was just falling into Autumn, into blazing leaves and then
One afternoon I look around, and the snow is in a spin.
Winter, how'd you take me unaware
Again?

Stream of Consciousness about My Date with Sweetheart

"When are we leaving? When are we leaving?"
She gets a date because I gave her a coupon for a date with mom for Christmas.
She can't wait. Every day, every minute, she's asking if it's time for the date yet.
I have to explain many times that the coupon's not good until AFTER January 2nd!
January 3rd arrives. It's time for the date.
I'm exhausted...still working a few hours at the cheesehouse, and we officially started lessons again today.
What will we do?
She puts on my favorite dress, a princess-waist number that I bought for Bard years ago from Land's End. It has cute little gardening things on it.
I notice that the dress is missing a button. I actually USE one of those buttons they sew to the hem of the dress--you know, the ones intended to be used in case a button falls off?
Bard sews the button onto the dress. Bard's date is next.
We get in the van. Where does she want to eat? I ask.
Where do you want to eat? She asks.
No...this is YOUR date, I say. Where do YOU want to go?
Let's go to Subways, she answers.
Do you like Subway? I ask.
No, not really, she answers. But you do.
What do YOU like, I ask, but I already know the answer.
McDonald's, she says, just like I thought she would.
First to Wal*Mart. I need mayo and my dad needs carpet cleaner.
We buy Sweetheart a new pair of boots for the winter. The ones I bought her at Goodwill didn't survive the dogs.
She puts them on in the store. I put the old shoes in the box.
We buy a pair for The Baby, too. I wanted the little brown ones, but I didn't think The Baby was ready for high heels just yet.
The cashier asks to see Sweetheart's new boots. She models them proudly.
Off to McDonald's.
She sees a little girl that she's seen there before.
She shows the little girl the locket she got for Christmas. It's gold. It doesn't have pictures in it yet.
The little girl had a locket the last time Sweetheart saw her. She told me about it before Christmas. This is why I bought her the locket.
Sweetheart plays with her friend in the McD's playplace.
It's off to a movie. I'm still tired. Do I want to do this?
We're too late for the cheap movie. I take my time.
The roads are wet. It's raining a lot.
I have a hard time hearing Sweetheart. She's mumbling about a headache.
I can't hear you, I say. Talk louder.
She doesn't annunciate well. I've worried about her speech. Too much time talking with a binky in her mouth, I think.
She talks louder.
I still can't hear you, I say.
She yells this time. I HAVE A HEADACHE! She yells. AND NOW THAT YOU MADE ME YELL, I HAVE A BIGGER HEADACHE!
I'm not doing very well at this.
Do you want to go home, I ask?
NO! she yells. WHY IS EVERYONE MAD AT ME?
Everyone??? I ask. I'm not mad at you.
She begins to cry. Uh oh. Tired kid.
As she's yelling about everyone hating her, I hit a patch of high water. Scares the daylights out of me.
I hate driving in the rain, especially at night..
We get to the theater. It's either Fat Albert, Christmas with the Kranks or Polar Express. I don't want to do Polar Express, and it's not playing this late, anyway.
We conference. Why is Christmas with the Kranks PG, I ask the ticket guy.
Mild language. Mild sexual references.
And Fat Albert?
Brief Moments of Language.
I choose The Kranks.
I got Milk Duds.
She got Sour Watermelons.
The movie was pretty good. Not great. But pretty good.
Driving home...now THAT was good.
Sweetheart decides to sing Christmas carols. We sing Santa Claus is Coming to Town and Jingle Bells. She LOVES Jingle Bells. We sing it again and again.
That was so much fun! She yells.
I'm home now. Very tired. Glad I went, but wishing it would have been better.
Bard is next. She needs embroidery thread for her new cross stitch. And then Houdin. He wants to see National Treasure. Maybe I'll let Bohemian take him.
Date is over.
Goodnight.

Concerned About Making Sandwiches

We had stayed away for so long. And now, here I was, looking at Great-Grandma lying on the floor.

Both of Bohemian's grandparents are in their mid-80's. Up until about three years ago, we'd enjoyed regular visits with them. We'd go and take a meal, or we'd go out to dinner together, or we'd hang around watching Grandpa do magic tricks. Sometimes, we'd just watch some of the magic videos Grandpa had videotaped. Grandpa's magic tricks are amazing.

When Grandpa was young, he was in a car accident and, as a result, lost both of his legs. He decided right away that he wasn't going to let that destroy him, and he took up sleight of hand. On any given visit, you can hear someone asking, "How did you DO that?" Grandpa's reply is always, "Very well, I think."

Within the past few years, Grandpa's sight has become poor. He's as sharp as a tack, but his body just doesn't want to keep up with him. Grandma has gone through some very difficult health issues, too, and while it's difficult for her to see and hear, she still has a wonderful sense of humor and always appears to be glad when we visit.

It's not easy to visit elderly people when you have five children, especially when the Great-Grandparents live in a very small house which becomes exceedingly hot as your visit continues. It's also difficult to keep the children occupied in a place where there's no playground, no abundance of toys, and no kid-like activities. Not to mention that the place is so small that there's not a lot of room to move around when there are seven extra people in the house.

But we've always enjoyed our visits. Grandma insists on making sandwiches or providing pizza, or fussing over us in some way. Grandpa always leaves us wanting more magic, and now that Houdin is very interested in magic, there's a wonderful common bond.

A couple of years ago, a rumor came to us from my husband's side of the family that the Great-Grandparents didn't want any more visitors. They had refused a visit from my sister-in-law and had declined an offer to have my other sister-in-law live in to help care for them. I was really very sad that we wouldn't be visiting, especially with the legacy that Grandpa was giving Houdin with his magic tricks. I called the Great-Grandparents on a few occasions, and I wrote a few letters, but communicating by phone or in writing isn't easy for people who have a hard time seeing and hearing.

So, in recent times, I've felt very unsettled about our visits--or non-visits, I should say--and have often felt led just to call them and ask if they truly no longer want visitors.

But I haven't. I guess I was afraid of the answer.

When we had our Family Gathering in October, my mother-in-law decided to ask the Great-Grandparents if they'd like to come out for a day, to have a family photo taken and see our new home. These people. who never leave home, came with my in-laws to spend a day with us. While Grandma shopped with us, Grandpa spent the day showing Houdin some card tricks. The family photo was precious. I thought it was a very good day, and was so grateful for their visit.

On their way out, Grandpa leaned out the car window and said to me with a smile, "We live in Suchandsuchtown, you know? It's about an hour and a half from here? Visit sometime."

My oh my. Does he think I've been staying away because I WANT to? Family is so incredibly important to me! I have no grandparents of my own. I've been blessed with my husband's family, who had both sets of grandparents living until four years ago. Their lives are so very important to me.

Well, after an invitation like that, I didn't want to stay away. But I still wondered if he was just being kind...polite.

A couple of weeks later, my father-in-law called and asked Bohemian if we would be willing to go visit with the grandparents twice a month, to see if they needed to do any grocery shopping or to do any things that needed done around the house. Now, I was totally confused. Do they want visitors, or do they not? Will I be helping them, or will I be imposing on them? We decided that all we could do would be to try it. Just go and see.

So we did.

Our visits have been good, for the most part. Because their house is so hot, The Baby tends to get a bit loopy and rosy-cheeked while we're there. Grandma gets too concerned about seeing that we eat, even if we've already eaten. Even if we bring our own food. She wants to be sure to be a good hostess. I can understand that completely. But I do so wish she wouldn't worry.

Over the past couple of weeks, we've made plans to visit but weren't able because of very bad weather. Our county had a terrible ice-storm that left most of the residents without power for anywhere from a few hours to over a week. Our power was off from the day before Christmas Eve through a week later. But yesterday, we were able to make the journey to the Great-Grandparents house. We even ate before we left, a wonderful lunch of Turkey Carcass Soup (it really is very good).

As soon as we arrived, I asked Grandma if she needed to go to the grocery store. I know how she likes to get out of the house, and I know how she likes to shop. She was all dressed and ready to leave the house. Her tiny frame, a foot shorter than my own 5' 2", dressed in a white blouse and black slacks, her shoes on and ready to go. She wanted to go into the kitchen first, to see what there was to eat and to decide what to get while we were out. I went along ahead of her, Bohemian just behind me, and Great-Grandma almost at his side. As I stepped into the kitchen, the floor shook with a great noise. We had only been in the house a few minutes--less than five, I'm sure--and I turned quickly to see which of my children had tripped or dropped something or knocked something over. There, on the floor, was Great Grandma. She had fallen flat on her face.

I rushed to her, Bohemian right behind me. What had happened??? Grandma? What happened? My mind was racing. Did she have a heart attack? Did she pass out? She was obviously in pain, but I couldn't tell where the pain was. Bo and I knelt beside her.

"Grandma? Where does it hurt? Do you know what happened?"

"I think I slipped on a shoe," she answered. I looked beyond her feet, and there, in the middle of the hallway, was Sweetheart's black boot. She had probably not had it off longer than a minute, and she stood in the doorway with her mouth hanging open.

I looked back to Grandma. A small trickle of blood began to run down her face from a cut above her left eyebrow. Her glasses had slammed into her face when she hit. I took the glasses off and whispered to Bo to get me a napkin. Grandpa had made his way to Grandma's side, walking himself with his hands.

"Mom? Mom are you okay? What happened?" He asked her, not panicked but taking charge. She answered him that her arm was under her and that she wanted to sit up. I shoo-ed the kid from the room as Bo and I helped Grandma to her feet. Her shoulder was sore. Maybe even out of socket. But she didn't want to go to the hospital. They had given her too much of the wrong medication the last time she went. She just wanted to wait and see how it felt later.

She was still concerned about making sandwiches.

Sweetheart came to me, tears in her eyes. She whispered in my ear, "Mom. It was my shoe. I'm sorry." I hugged her and told her that I forgave her, but that now she could see why we insist on keeping the shoes out of the way. She nodded.

Grandma kept an ice pack on her arm, and she wouldn't stop fussing about food, so I finally went out for pizza. Even after the pizza came, she wanted to know how many pizzas we ordered, so she could be ready next time.

As we were leaving, I gave Grandpa my cell-phone number. Grandma was sure she was fine, and she wanted to wait and see her own doctor in the morning. She was sure she could get one of her girlfriends to take her to the doctor's office. She wanted to take the bandage off of her eye, but when we did, it started bleeding again. I felt so horrible.

"I'm so sorry," I said. I knew she didn't want sympathy. She'd said several times that she didn't want us looking at her all sad.

"I'm sorry, too," she said, "We're all sorry. None of us wanted this to happen, but it did, so we just go on. We can't feel bad about it."

Grandpa piped up from his chair, "Grandma's game is to pretend she's not in pain. She doesn't like to show anyone that she hurts."

My heart was so full of sadness.

On the way home, we listened to Delilah. Five for Fighting's 100 Years came on. A tear slipped down my cheek. In the back seat, Bard, my own 15 was crying, too.

Tucking Sweetheart into bed. "I'm really sorry, Mom. I didn't mean to make Grandma fall."

A lesson learned. Put your shoes away.

Showing Jen how to Blog

I'm showing Jen how to blog. She says she hasn't kept a journal since her kids were born. I'm going to get her addicted to blogging, too.

A Legacy

SCHOOL @ HOME

After reading Tenn's list, I decided to make one of my own.

Five Things I Want My Children to Know About Me:

1. That I don't do a thing without thinking about how it will affect people and how it will influence them.
2. That God is my guide.
3. That I love my family more than anything on this earth and that I do almost everything I do because of the people I love.
4. That, should anything happen to me, I want them to forgive me for anything I've done to hurt or anger them, and I want them to forgive themselves for anything they've done to hurt or anger me.
5. That I want them to spend eternity with me in Heaven.

Thirty Nine Things About 2004

1. What did you do in 2004 that you'd never done before?
Moved into a brand new home. And contrary to what anyone tells you, brand new homes do not stay cleaner than any other kind of home. Five kids are five kids, no matter where you put them.
2. Did you keep your new year's resolutions, and will you make more for next year?
I didn't make any resolutions that I can remember, but I did make myself a promise sometime during the year to write letters regularly and to not use my credit cards for Christmas. I've done well on both.
3. Did anyone close to you give birth?
A few friends, but not anyone extremely close. My sister-in-laws are due soon, though!! Yeah!
4. Did anyone close to you die?
Yes. Quite a shock.
5. What countries did you visit?
Amish Country. ;-)
6. What would you like to have in 2005 that you lacked in 2004?
A life free of consumer debt. Organization and normalcy.
7. What dates from 2004 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?
July and October. Moved into our house for real and had our first Family Gathering with extended family. June, Houdin turned 13.
8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?
Moving in. Actually finishing the biggest project we've ever undertaken aside from having kids--building a home.
9. What was your biggest failure?
Being in debt. Did I mention that I don't like being in debt?
10. Did you suffer illness or injury?
Nope. Not this year.
11. What was the best thing you bought?
Well, I'd say my new house, but I think I've worn that one thin...and I didn't actually buy it yet. That's not for another 29 1/2 years. I got a lot of stuff for free from FreeCycle--a black lab puppy, an awesome dishwasher that actually works, a very comfy couch, a fridge and a piano. Oh, and a kitchen table. Stuff I bought...hmmm...a big roaster with buffet compartments, a new frying pan that's actually big enough to make a side dish that will feed my family. Oh! I bought a Corda-Roy's foam thingy and a Landing Pad. Those are really awesome. I know I bought a lot more cool stuff, but it would take too long to write it all out and you'd be bored stiff. The most recent best thing I bought was one of Bard's Christmas gifts--Seasons 1 and 2 of Little House on the Prairie on DVD. She now has a crush on Pa.
12. Whose behavior merited celebration?
Mine. I'm so cool.
13. Whose behavior made you appalled and disgusted?
Mine. Too bad I'm a loser.
14. Where did most of your money go?
Toward this house. And feeding all of these people that keep telling me they're hungry.
15. What did you get really, really, really excited about?
The house getting finished. Around the first of the year, the drywallers were starting their job. It was so cool to see it come together.
16. What song will always remind you of 2004?
Santa Claus is Coming to Town. The Baby loves it.
17. Compared to this time last year, are you:
a) happier or sadder? happier.
b) thinner or fatter? fatter.
c) richer or poorer? poorer.
18. What do you wish you'd done more of?
Learning
19. What do you wish you'd done less of?
Yelling.
20. How will you be spending New Year's Eve?
Done. We had the neighborhood NYE party here. Ate food, played the M&M game with our Amish neighbors. Played Rook Board with Du and Jen and the Amish neighbors until almost 2 AM
21. Did you fall in love in 2004?
Many times. I love my man.
22. How many one-night stands?
Yeah, right.
23. What was your favorite TV program?
Don't have one. We don't have TV reception.
24. Do you hate anyone now that you didn't hate this time last year?
I don't hate anyone. There are people who annoy me, but I annoy people, too.
25. What was the best book you read?
Loser by Jerry Spinelli.
26. What was your greatest musical discovery?
My baby girl. She sings a mean Frosty the Snowman.
27. What did you want and get?
Okay, I'll say it again. A house.
28. What did you want and not get?
Out of debt. My 35 MM camera fixed. Letters from my family for Christmas. A great big electric griddle.
29. What was your favorite film of this year?
Secondhand Lions
30. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?
I was thirty five, and I can't remember what I did.
31.What one thing would have made your year measurably more satisfying?
Lots of money, a maid and a vacation.
32. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2004?
Jeans and t-shirts.
33. What kept you sane?
My husband. He's so awesome. And my friends.
34. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?
Can't really think of any. Isn't this exciting?
35. What political issue stirred you the most?
All of them.
36. Who did you miss?
My friend Kathy. It's been too long. I need to get in touch with her.
37. Who was the best new person you met?
There are way too many. Heather, you're one of them, though we haven't actually met. Ursy-loo and Ashley, I had such a blast with you two this year, I have to include you. I became much closer to my friend Shawna. Love to you, friend.
38. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2004.
Trust in the Lord with all of your heart and lean not on your own understanding...
39. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year.

These are days you'll remember. Never before and never since, I promise,
will the whole world be warm as this. And as you feel it, you'll know it's true
that you are blessed and lucky. It's true that you are touched by something that
will grow and bloom in you. These are days you'll remember,when May is rushing
over you with desire to be part of the miracles you see in every hour. You'll
know it's true that you are blessed and lucky. It's true that you are touched by
something that will grow and bloom in you. These are days. These are the
days you might fill with laughter until you break. These days you might feel a
shaft of light make its way across your face. And when you do you'll know how it
was meant to be. See the signs and know their meaning. It's true, you'll know
how it was meant to be. Hear the signs and know they're speaking to you.

What I've Learned About Cheese...

The following are the things I've learned about cheese while working in the Mail Order room of our local cheesehouse:

1. Baby Swiss can be kept in the refrigerator indefinitely if it hasn't been opened. No kidding. Six months. Two years. Twenty five years. It will sharpen, but it won't spoil.
2. People call from all over the country to order Baby Swiss. People from California seem to really like "our" cheese.
3. On December 13th, we shipped out 1500 packages of cheese. Keep in mind that there were only four of us working in the mail order room and only three working in the packing room. 1500 packages. That's a lot of cheese.
4. In one day, we ran $14,000 worth of cheese orders through the credit card machine. This was no mistake. I meant to type three zeros. We really sold over $14,000 worth of cheese that day.
5. Don't mess with people's cheese. They will hunt you down and kill you with a cheese shaver.
6. Baby Swiss cheese can be frozen. Take it out of it's original package and wrap it in newspaper, and then in freezer wrap. The newspaper is to keep it from forming ice crystals.
7. A person really can each cheese tidbits for lunch every day. Just ask me.
8. When a person finally gets tired of cheese tidbits for lunch, she can eat grilled butter cheese sandwiches.
9. When a person finaly gets tired of cheese tidbits and grilled butter cheese sandwiches for lunch, she can eat Patty Melts. There is no getting tired of Patty Melts.
10. Some people have no problem paying more for shipping than they do for the cheese. This especially applies to people who can't seem to remember what day Christmas will be. They like to wait until three days before Christmas and then determine that there is a Gift Cheese Emergency, calling us in an urgent voice begging us to charge them $50 for second-day air to ship their cheese to California before Christmas. I guess I don't blame them. It's kind of hard to keep track of when Christmas will come, since it keeps moving around every year. If only they would make it on the same date every year so we could have THREE HUNDRED AND SIXTY FIVE DAYS TO PREPARE!!!
11. Some people have to call the mail order department every single day to track their cheese.
12. Some people have to call to figure out how two 2-pound wheels of cheese could possibly amount to four pounds of cheese.
13. Some people don't understand why they have to return $125 worth of cheese when we accidentally shipped it twice. These same people can't understand why it wasn't okay to go ahead and give it to all of his kids and why he should have to pay for it.
14. Some people like to make mail order employees cry.
15. It's just cheese.
16. People like to send cheese to people who don't like cheese. The people who don't like cheese don't understand why they can't return it to us for cash.
17. People believe we can read their minds. When they ask us to send two wheels of cheese to each person on their Christmas list, we're supposed to know that they only meant that they wanted to send one wheel of cheese to each person on their Christmas list. These people want the money refunded, even though they have sent cheese to fifty-two people in locations around the country.
18. People don't understand why it takes more than a day for their cheese to get from Ohio to Puerto Rico.
19. Some old ladies who order cheese can't remember their own address. They don't understand why we can't send them their cheese anyway.
20. Cheese is good food.

Back from Cheeseworld...

Wow! What a wild ride this holiday season has been!

I began working at the local cheesehouse in the mail order department at the beginning of November. It started out that I'd just help for a few hours a couple of days a week. And then, since the previous mail-order department manager had gone on to cheesier pastures, there came the request for me to run the mail order department. Next thing I knew, it was a $1.00 raise, long hours, more long hours, lots and lots of cheese shipped, and my life was a whirlwind!

It really was a lot of fun, but I'm glad to be done with it.

Now, it's January first, and I'm anxious to get back to my blog, back to learning (we take Thanksgiving through the New Year off from regular lessons so that we can focus on the holidays), and back HOME for a change.

So, here I am. I haven't fallen off the face of the earth. I was just up to my ears in cheese.

Happy New Year, all.

Ho ho ho...

Are you ready for Christmas?

Nah, me neither.

Audioblogger

Well, here it is. My first shot at AudioBlogging. If you have speakers, click below and then tell me what you think!

What *WAS* I thinking?

I *AM* spending the day cooking and cleaning and preparing. Sheesh!

Thank You

Today is Thanksgiving.

So often, I spend Thanksgiving day cooking and cleaning, preparing or traveling. While that can be fun and, at least in retrospect, is rewarding, while I'm in it, I often feel overwhelmed, overworked and overspent.

But there is always some shining moment in the day, like a baby girl devouring a great big turkey drumstick. Or the kids putting on a Thanksgiving presentation, with Bard reciting a poem by Jack Prelutsky and Houdin dressed like an indian, his face covered in orange Mary Kay foundation (who would actually WANT to be that color???) Or my father-in-law waking us up before the sun even rises to go on a Turkey Walk by strolling through the house at some non-human hour making some non-human noise that's supposed to sound like a turkey gobbling.

This morning, while I was snuggled cozily in my bed after a crazy night of eating individually holiday-wrapped Reese's Cups and watching Shrek 2, the last thing on my mind was waking up. And then, at some non-human hour, the phone rang. It was so early that the sun had just peaked over the frosty hillside. With my sleepy head pressed against the phone receiver, hoping I had the right end to my ear, I could hear that non-human noise.

"Gobblegobblegobblegobblegobble. Gobblegobblegobblegobblegobble."

It's Thanksgiving. And even though our budget or our work schedule can't handle a trip to Illinois to spend the weekend with the rest of our family, my father-in-law, God bless him, has brought a piece of it here.

Today, we'll be pulling our Christmas decorations out of the fruit cellar, taking down the fall foliage that remains from our Family Gathering, and preparing for our Thanksgiving meal, which will be on Saturday this year so that another family whose budget is a bit tight--and whose man-of-the-house will be working today--will be able to join us for in breaking bread and giving thanks.

While my heart longs to be with the rest of my family (it's my husband's family, yes, but it's the only family that I have and couldn't ask for a better one), I'll thank God for my husband and kids, and I'll thank God for His many blessings. Yes, it's easy to complain about the budget, the work schedule, the preparing, the cleaning or the traveling (or, as this year, the lack thereof), but I know that it's more lovely to give thanks.

On this day, I thank God for family, for love, for forgiveness, for eternity, for God's salvation, for His perfect timing, for free will, and for the chance to start a new life with every single moment.

Thank you for reading. Thanks for the inspiration you give me. Thank you for your insight and your wisdom and your companionship. Thank God for you.

Have a truly thankful day.

You Are Mashed Potatoes

Oridnary, comforting, and more than a little predictable You're the glue that holds everyone together.

What Part of Thanksgiving Are You?

I'm so cool, too bad I'm a loser...

The Barmy Blogger: Oh it's Saturday, it's Saturday, a hun-hun-honey and a ha-cha-cha!: "I'm probably dying. Prob'ly (I love typing it like that) no one will even come to my funeral.Or maybe everyone will come, just like the people did for Tom and Huck and Joe. They'll all realize how great I was, and how they didn't appreciate me. Why, just today my own mother and father ignored me.Man, if my being tired doesn't get me killed, that last comment will. It's been a good life, anyway. "

I'm probably boring. Prob'ly, no one will even come to my blog. Or maybe everyone will come, just like the people did for Bard's Blog. They'll all realize how great I was, and how they didn't appreciate me. Why, just today my own daughter ignored me.

Man, if my being a loser doesn't get my blog rolling, that last comment will. It's been a good blog, anyway.

The Very, Very Pitiful Mom

Who's behind?

That would be me. I'm falling far behind on my NaNo, according to my little NaNometer. Sigh. I'm losing my momentum. There is still plenty to say...much, much more to say.

File Under: Something You Should Never Have to Say

"The cat does not need it's butt wiped."

Stream of Consciousness About the Trip to the Art Museum

• The impressionist paintings were awesome.
• I could stare at a Van Gogh all day.
• I think Van Gogh is my favorite. Along with Mary Cassatt.
• I couldn't believe that I was standing in front of Water Lillies.
• Some art is really bizarre.
• I'm not sure why a wax leg with real human hair sticking out of the wall is considered "art."
• I signed the guest book with a nice, long story.
• The art presenter didn't know anything about homeschoolers.
• The kids recognized a bunch of art.
• We saw an Andy Warhol.
• We saw Picassos.
• We saw a work by Chuck Close.
• There was a really awesome one there called Lot's Wife.
• They had good food in the cafe.
• Food in the cafe is expensive.
• It's expensive to park at the art museum.
• Monet hit one of the other girls while we were in the room of ancient artifacts.
• Monet apologized, but he refused to move because he "wanted to be alone."
• We ended up leaving because of it.
• I missed looking at some of the cool stuff, because of Monet's temper, Houdin's moodiness and Bard's insatiable curiosity (read: I couldn't find her).
• Sweetheart and Baby were darlings.
• I want to go back.

I'm a Princess

I'm sure it's no big surprise to you that your
romance is The Princess Bride. A heartwarming
tale of "Twue Wuve" that has giants,
Spainards and swashbuckling. You really do
think that love can overcome anything. You may
be a touch naive but your heart is certainly in
the right place. You've probably got one of
those relationships where proper nouns have
been replaced with "Snookums" and
"Pookie Pie". Eww. Beware a cuteness
overload.

What Romance Movie Best Represents Your Love Life?
brought to you by

Stream of Consciousness About NaNoWriMo

Finding the time to write is hard.
I started with one concept, and gave it up because I really felt I needed to pursue a different path.
I can't believe where it has taken me.
Somehow, the adventure has been life-changing.
So many things have happened in these past fourteen days.
Of course, I've been neglecting my blog, but that doesn't mean I don't love it.
Be patient with me, little blog! I hope you don't worry that I'm seeing other blogs. You have a very special place in my heart, and I'll come back to you. I promise.
NaNo is almost half way over.
I'm not quite at my word count.
When I do sit down to write, it's difficult to begin.
Once I get started, the words just flow.
I can usually do about 3,000 in one sitting.
Bard is doing NaNo, too. Her regular blog is here. Her NaNo blog is here.
Because I'm writing about my own experiences, I have a hard time determining which are interesting because they're interesting, and which are just interesting to me. Feel free to go over there and be my critic. But don't make me cry. Yet. Let me get the whole thing hammered out first. Then you can make me cry. I've been crying enough lately...
I haven't really been reading other people's blogs or nanos lately. I'm trying to stay focused.
Bohemian has been a wonderful support system. I just wish The Baby would go to him more. She's very attached to me.
Because I've been working at the local cheesehouse through the week, part time, just through Christmas, it's been difficult to keep the house clean *and* get the NaNo done. Bard has been a very great help with this. Thank you, my dear eldest daughter!
It's time to go write.

Why I Haven't Been Writing...

I have a good reason. Really. I haven't been writing because...well, because I've been writing.

It's NaNoWriMo time. And it's almost half over.

So, if you want to know what's been on my mind, you can check it out. I'd love some feedback.

http://experiencepossessed.blogspot.com

That's No Lady!

"Sweetheart! Please put your knees together and pull your dress down! Young ladies do not sit like that."
"I'm not a young lady," Sweetheart replies very matter-of-factly. "I'm really very old."

Stream of Consciousness about Art Lessons

Woke up late.
"Everyone, get dressed! Don't forget your pencils!"
Pick up a girlfriend's daughter.
Drop off my own daughter.
Quick hug.
"Goodbye!"
Pull in the library parking lot.
"Shhh!"
"Did anyone see the lunar eclipse?"
Nods.
Drawings of the lunar eclipse.
"Time to paint."
Painting by Renoir.
Only three colors...yellow, blue and the resulting green.
No brushes.
Only fingers.
Two practice paintings.
Clean canvas.
Swirling blues.
Spiky greens.
Grass.
Sky.
Water.
Texture.
A few mistakes.
Learn from them!
Dabbing with a towel.
Lifting off color.
Wonderful depth!
Pleasant surprise!
Sweetheart does wonderfully!
"That's really good!"
"I hate mine."
"Yours is better!"
"I'll never be an artist."
Encouragement.
Smiles.
Reluctant sharing.
Washing hands.
Cleaning up.
Admiring work.
To the craft store...buy some frames.
On the wall.
Lovely.

Now Playing...Songs by which to View a Lunar Eclipse

"Total Eclipse Of The Heart" - Bonnie Tyler
"Moon Over Bourbon Street" - Sting
"Walking On The Moon" - The Police
"Moon At The Window" - Joni Mitchell
"Moon River (from "Breakfast At Tiffany's")" - Barbra Streisand
"Somewhere Out There " - James Ingram
"Moon Love" - Nat King Cole
"That's Amore" - Dean Martin
"Eclipse" - John Denver
"Moon On My Shoulder" - Lyle Lovett
"Shine On Harvest Moon" - Leon Redbone
"Mr. Spaceman" - The Byrds
"Spaceman" - Harry Nilsson
"The Moon And St. Christopher" - Mary Chapin Carpenter
"The Color Green" - Rich Mullins
"Blue Moon Of Kentucky" - Patsy Cline
"Mississippi Moon" - John Anderson
"St. Judy's Comet" - Paul Simon
"Song About The Moon" - Paul Simon
"Ticket To The Moon" - Electric Light Orchestra
"Moonshadow" - Cat Stevens
"Moondance" - Van Morrison
"How High The Moon" - Ella Fitzgerald
"Moon Country" - Hoagy Carmichael
"Tropic Moon" - Bruce Cockburn
"Man On The Moon" - R.E.M.
"Moon Song" - Louis Armstrong
"Bad Moon Rising" - Creedence Clearwater Revival
"Harvest Moon" - Neil Young
"Blue Moon" - Elvis Presley
"Moon River" - Henry Mancini
"Moon Is Up" - The Rolling Stones
"Moon Pretty Moon" - The Statler Brothers
"Moon Over Rio Grande" - Michael Nesmith

You can listen to these songs by listening to my Moon Playlist on Rhapsody.

100 Things About Me.

Okay...I've seen this done on other blogs, and I...well...I know it may be dangerous, but I'm willing to give it a try.

One Hundred Things About Me

1. I am a Christian. This doesn't mean I'm a wacko or a hypocrite or a judgemental beast. It means that I love God with all of my heart, soul, mind and strength and that I try my bestest to follow the teachings of Jesus Christ.
2. I recognize that I am a flawed human being. Don't bother pointing it out.
3. I believe the best witness is living a loving life--I really do try.
4. I love my husband more than anyone else on this ball of spinning dirt, even if he does have bad personal habits.
5. I have five children whom I love more than anyone else on this ball of spinning dirt, except my husband.
6. My children make me laugh and cry hysterically. Sometimes simultaneously.
7. My best friends live too far away. They need to move closer.
8. I like to cook, but I hate to clean up afterwards. That's why I had kids (just ask them).
9. I own a free-range one-eyed chameleon named Wilma. I feed her live crickets and mealworms with tongs that look like huge tweezers.
10. I get sleepy after I eat.
11. I have had three home-births. Okay, two home-births and one cabin-birth.
12. I really wanted to be voted Best Dressed in high school. I wasn't voted anything.
13. I like my closet to be color-coordinated. It's mostly black and brown.
14. I have a jones for good photos.
15. I never seem to have time to eat breakfast. I keep boxes of Luna Bars in my closet.
16. I loathe washing dishes. That's why I had kids (just ask them).
17. I don't mind folding laundry. As long as it's clean.
18. I have a twisted relationship with Wal*Mart. They take all my money, I bring home all their crap.
19. I'm wearing a t-shirt that says, "Please wipe nose below the dotted line."
20. I have breastfed all of my children. Not at the same time.
21. I rate pretty high on the crunchy scale.
22. My favorite author is Anne Tyler. Did you know she was homeschooled?
23. My children have all been homeschooled from the start. Houdin, the 13 year old, went to a private school for one year so he could learn how to read, because I thought I was failing him. He didn't learn to read there.
24. I love get-togethers--sorry P.
25. I wish I could play a musical instrument. I took guitar lessons for a while, then I found out I was pregnant, and it wasn't long before the guitar wouldn't stay on my lap. Plus, my husband's better than I am and it makes me sick.
26. Nothing gets me out of a funk like a hip song with a great beat.
27. I dance a lot, especially when my kids roll their eyes and say, "Mo-o-om!"
28. I have a hard time finishing projects. I'm lucky to be married to a man with a good follow-through.
29. I don't like to drive. Unless there's good music on and I'm in a good mood.
30. I listen to Delilah. Sometimes I even cry when I listen.
31. I have Delilah's number programmed into my cell-phone.
32. I keep about thirty journals. They all have about five pages written in them. Okay, a few of them are full. But most of them aren't.
33. I once met Christopher Reeve while he was filming Somewhere in Time at the Grand Hotel on Macinac Island. He signed my chocolates box, but my mom threw it away.
34. I spent three years living in a cabin with an outdoor tub, gas lights and an outhouse.
35. I love long baths with candles. The outdoor tub is the best, with candles AND stars.
36. I get bad migraine headaches. The worst one I ever got was while watching Titanic in the movie theater. Now, if I get a really bad one, I call it a Titanic headache.
37. My favorite drink is Dr. Pepper, followed closely by ice cold water.
38. I've only been drunk once. Drunk, but lucid. That was enough for me.
39. I tried smoking once...one puff. That was enough for me.
40. I used to use chewing tobacco. Why? Because I thought it was cool.
41. I've never flown in an airplane.
42. I love road trips.
43. I want to go to England someday. But not on a road trip. I'll have to fly in a plane for that.
44. I cried the day Rich Mullins died.
45. The saddest song I've ever heard is Wildfire.
46. The second saddest song I've ever heard is I'll Be True to You.
47. I hate to walk around the house without slippers. The crud on the floor drives me bonkers.
48. I love autumn.
49. I always wanted to be a writer.
50. I wrote a novel when I was 13.
51. I love to take pictures.
52. I like my 35 mm for different reasons than I like my digital.
53. Feet fascinate me.
54. My favorite childhood books were the Black Stallion series.
55. I love fried foods.
56. I love anything dairy-based.
57. Cheese is my friend.
58. I have a disease which causes me to acquire animals.
59. I have four dogs.
60. I have too many cats.
61. I have four birds.
62. There are animals in every room of this house except Houdin's room, the laundry room and the first-floor powder room.
63. I've met some kind of famous people, including:
64. Kirk Cameron
65. Dirk Bean, one of the Survivors
66. Uncle Owen
67. Jane Goodall
68. Tamora Pierce
69. Phil Keaggy
70. D.C. Talk
71. I have a friend who's brother is a very famous actor. I'm not telling.
72. I was once a midwife's assistant and attended births for about twelve months.
73. I've always wanted a tatoo. On my ankle.
74. I have three earrings in my left earlobe and two in my right.
75. I make a yummy cheesecake.
76. I also make a yummy alfredo sauce.
77. When I'm bored, I bite my fingernails.
78. I like to bake bread, but I don't do it often enough.
79. I don't really talk about politics.
80. Rude people really irritate me.
81. I've always wanted a horse.
82. My favorite gift is a good letter.
83. I wish I were rich.
84. I like quiche.
85. I'm more of a morning person than a night owl.
86. I get sleepy when I read. I once fell asleep sitting up with a book propped on my chest while reading to my children.
87. My hair is naturally curly.
88. I have only dyed my hair once. Burgundy. I hated it.
89. I love cooking for other people.
90. I like children's literature more than adult fiction.
91. I'm a meaner mom than I ever thought I'd be.
92. I'm a certified Natural Family Planning instructor.
93. My house is never clean enough for me.
94. I like knitting for kids.
95. I don't know how to sew but really wish I did.
96. I love Barry Manilow. I used to belong to the Barry Manilow fan club and am sorry I still don't.
97. I'd love to learn to spin wool.
98. I would love to be able to draw well.
99. If I had a ton of money, I'd pay off all of my debts, pay off my best friends' debts, pay off my in-law's debts, and buy really great Christmas gifts for everyone I know.
100. I can't believe I finished this, even if it is the most boring thing in the world.

Funny Things Kids Say

Me to Monet: Please don't hit anyone else with a mallet.

*****

Bard: Maybe Dad should just be Superman for the costume party. He could wear pants with the underwear on the outside. He could wear a pink towel and cowboy boots, like Monet used to and everyone thought he looked cute.

Monet: Did I really do that?

Bard: Yeah...well...you didn't wear underwear on the outside...well...you never wear underwear.

Monet: Yes, I do!

Bard: Are you wearing any right now?

Monet: I only wear them on special occasions.

*****

Bard to me while I was feeding Wilma the One-Eyed Chameleon: Do chameleons get their tongues stuck together because they're too sticky?

Me: No. Their tongues aren't actually sticky. They're barbed.

Bard: I wish I had a barbed tongue.

*****

Me: Children, don't eat glass.

Monet: Not even if you're a rockbiter?

Me: Not even if you're a rockbiter.

Bard: Rockbiters don't eat glass. They eat rocks. Hence the name...Rockbiter.

*****

Monet: Is there some kind of contest when you die to tell whether you can get into heaven or not?

Me: No, it's not like that. It's like...

Houdin (interupting): Welcome to This Was Your Life. And now, here is your host...Jesus Christ!

*****

Bard: Do you want to be clubbed in the head with a horse?

Sweetheart: Not really.

*****

Academic Update

Each child works on their handwriting and spelling daily, and I can see a marked improvement in all of their handwriting. We have been using the Getty/Dubay Italic Handwriting course from the beginning but have never gone at it with such fervor. My inspiration was a book I saw at the library called Italic Handwriting for Young People by Fred Eager. He gave samples of student handwriting before and after the course. Most of the samples were within a two-month time period, and the results were very impressive. Since we've been doing the handwriting on a daily basis, and I've been insisting that ALL writing that they do be in Italic, their handwriting has improved dramatically--all of them. Even Sweetheart.

Yesterday, I assigned a paper to each of the older kids. We based the paper on this writing evaluation. The expository prompt that I gave was, "Do you like being homeschooled? Why or why not?" By definition, expository writing is:

• A setting forth of meaning or intent.
• A statement or rhetorical discourse intended to give information about or an explanation of difficult material.
• The art or technique of composing such discourses.

While I don't normally "grade" papers, I've found that the kids respond much better to receiving some kind of evaluation of their work rather than self-evaluation or simply being told that they "did well." For this expository writing, I will grade it on the same six-point scoring system that was used for the original project.

Bard went right to her paper, beginning with a proper outline.

Houdin balked, cried and gave many suggestions for alternatives.

Here's my problem:

We have come to terms that Houdin would be, in a public school setting, labeled with Attention Deficit Disorder. Since we homeschool, his learning can be tailored to his abilities. At the same time, I believe that, in a home learning setting, he can receive the amount of attention and assistance he needs to receive. Sometimes, however, it's just about impossible to deal with him.

I've been wondering if I could have him learn with another homeschooling family for a while, or if I could find a tutor for him. We just seem to clash so wildly.

Any suggestions?

If they were in public school, or, typical course of study...

Typical Course of Study

Bard has been asking what she'd be learning if she were in a public or private school setting. I came upon several resources that were very helpful in gauging their progress, if progress is gauged by the public school guidelines. ;-)

Others I found helpful were:

Ninth Grade Language Arts Checklist
"These are the skills and content knowledge required of all ninth grade language arts students in the State of Ohio."

Recommended reading list for 9th and 10th grade students

What Your Child Needs to Know, Grade 9 Math Guidelines
This site also offers activities based on Family Math

This was especially enlightening. From the website:

"Eighth graders respond to an expository prompt. The purpose of expository writing is to explain, clarify, or provide the reader with information. Well-written exposition has a clear, central focus developed through a carefully crafted presentation of examples or definitions that enhance the reader's understanding. Papers are scored holistically using a six-point scoring rubric."

On the bottom of the page, you will see a table that says "2002-2003 Anchor Set - Grade 8." These are sample essays of eighth graders in the Tennessee public school system. A score of 1 is the lowest, 6 the highest.

Confessions of a Barmy Blogger

My oldest daughter, Bard, has created a blog. On it, she confesses that she was once horrible and torturous to her babysitters. Well, it's not a confession, really...it's more of a plea for forgiveness.

The Barmy Blogger:

"Why am I publishing this on the World Wide Web? Because I feel like it. And I haven't told anyone, and it's about to make my head spontaneously combust (although it wouldn't be spontaneous, because it's caused by *something*), or cause me to lose what little sanity I still claim to be my own.

Which is really only enough to make adults think I have a good head on my shoulders. If they are only around for a little while.

And I only do that so any fomer babysitters of mine might hear about how I've changed since they knew me.

I really have. I was just plain evil when I was little. Now I'm slightly...

Well, I think you've probably figured that out by now.

Babysitters, I promise I've changed. I haven't locked anyone in a bathroom for years. Or screamed. Or thrown anything. I'm really quite timid, Just give me a laptop and some food, and I'm happy.

I don't even really need the food. Or a laptop, even. Just something with an internet connection hooked up. And sound, for when I want to watch Potter Puppet Pals, or some other toon. Just forgive me.

Please?"

Eliminate This!

I was reading Carol's Storybook where she wrote:

"I would like to eliminate the following words from my vocabulary:
1. mess
2. NOW! (as in you do this NOW!)
3. I'm tired.
4. Shut up!
5. Just a minute.
What are some words that you wish you would never say?"

1. crazy (as in "you are driving me crazy")
2. nervous breakdown (as in "I'm going to have a nervous breakdown")
3. losing my mind (as in "I think I'm about to lose my mind")
4. Oh. My. Gosh. (as in "Oh. My. Gosh. You are driving me crazy and I think I'm about to lose my mind")
5. I've had enough (as in, "I've had enough, and I think I'm going to have a nervous breakdown")

*before I get e-mails telling me that our lives are dictated by our words, I have to remind you that this is a list of words I *want* to eliminate from my vocabulary, not words I aspire to use more often.

Makes Sense...or not

Monet: I can't wait 'til we're rich.

Me (looking around at all of the housework that needs done and the kids who aren't doing any): Um...we can't get rich if we're lazy.

Monet: Oh. Well, we should hire some servants, then.

I grab a pencil

Monet: Why are you writing that down?

Bard: Because she's going to blog it and make people think you're really stupid.

Bubble and Squeak

I always wondered what Bubble and Squeak was...now I know. I think I have a new favorite food...

CookingByNumbers.com: "Get C00king!
Bubble and Squeak - Serves 4

Ingredients
25g/ 1oz Butter
250/9ozg leftover vegetables Vegetables
450g/ 16oz Potatoes

Method
method: 1. Cook and mash the potatoes.


2. Mix the potatoes and the cooked veg together. Season generously with salt and pepper.


3. Form into little burger shapes and fry in the butter over a medium heat until browned then flip and do the same to the other side."

CookingByNumbers.com

CookingByNumbers.com

I'm sure there are other sites where you can list the things you have in your fridge and it will tell you what you can make, but I wanted to share this one because I think this guy's verbage is a hoot. :-)

In his recipe for "filled baked potatoes," he gives the following directions:

1. Wash the potato to remove any mud etc. Prick with a fork and impale on a skewer.

2. Cook in a hot oven at 210*C for about an hour. It is cooked when the skin is crisp and the potato is creamy inside.

3. Cut in half and add a knob of butter.

4. The potato with any filling you like. A few sugestions are: Baked beans and cheese, sour cream and chives, chilli, salad cream and salad.

I'd never thought of using words like "mud," "impale," and "knob" when cooking. ;-)

Check it out. His recipes actually look kind of fun and some are simple for kids. And if you go to this part of the site, he gives pictorials of different kitchen skills like chopping an onion, peeling a tomato, cooking rice and couscous, and making a white sauce.

The site's a little squirley (I entered that I had potatoes, and it gave me recipes for potatoes, but it said I was missing a key ingredient...potatoes), but I just like reading the recipes to see him use words like "give it a go" and "smashing taste sensation." It just conjurs up images of Hugh Grant in the kitchen. ;-)

Hind's Feet: 09/19/2004 - 09/25/2004

Hind's Feet: 09/19/2004 - 09/25/2004: "Verses for home schools..
'May my teaching drop as the rain, my speech distil as the dew, as the gentle rain upon the tender grass, and as the showers upon the herb.' - Deuteronomy 32:2"

testing

A Verse for Learning

Thank you, Hind's Feet, for this verse:

'May my teaching drop as the rain, my speech distil as the dew, as the gentle rain upon the tender grass, and as the showers upon the herb.' - Deuteronomy 32:2

A Date with a Bohemian

Here I am, blogging along, minding my own business, when who should darken my door but...my HUSBAND! What on earth is HE doing here?

I mean, yeah, he lives here and all, but he's home two hours early and I haven't...well, I haven't done much of anything, really.

Okay, that's actually not true. I Freecycled for an almost-new set of box springs so that I don't have to sleep six inches lower than Bo. And, will wonders never cease, this amazing man of mine is home not just on time, but EARLY so we can take a trip to the Big City to pick up my new find.

Here's the truth: sometimes you get really crappy stuff on Freecycle. I'm not even exaggerating. I seriously mean that it's crappy. As in, covered in crap. I freecycled for a recliner and my dad swore someone must have died in it. It took him three hours to hose it down. Yes, I did say hose it down. Now it's a nice chair. It just had a crappy job.

So when you're heading to some stranger's house to pick up something for free without even seeing it first, yes, of course, there's risk involved. But it's FREE, see. So, if it's truly beyond-repair-crappy, it can go to the landfill. Some would argue that you could Freecycle it again, but that's just cruel.

I've picked up some great thing through Freecycle! Really! I LOVE my Freecycled couch. It's the same couch that's in the banner above. We have a way-cool piano that we Freecycled. I have an awesome working second refrigerator. Freecycled. Lewis, our black lab brat (also in the banner above)--Freecycled.

My Awesome, Comfy, Freecycled Sofa

So it's a hit and miss thing, really. And I think you can get a vibe from someone's post, too. Okay, my prejudice is showing, but I do appreciate an attempt at good grammar and at least a modicum of properly spelled words (don't check my entries for grammar errors--they're all stream of consciousness, so cut me some slack. And did I spell "modicum" right?).

Since we're on the budget dating system, leaving the kids with Papa and Bard, a hop in the pickup truck to freecycle a set of box springs (box springs...is/are that/they plural??) and a shared dinner out is about it for the budget. That, and a 69 cent DVD rental.

That was the plan.

Don't you just love it when the plan actually works?

The box spring/s was/were awesome, I was able to talk Bohemian into a stop at the pet shop where I only broke down enough to buy crickets for One-Eyed Wilma my free-range chameleon and a hermit crab for Sweetheart. Don't ask me why little miss Tu-Tu wants a hermit crab. She just does.

And then we actually ate dinner together. The only interruption was the Red Sox/Yankees game and a very attentive server.

Then home for unloading the box spring/s, blogging, playing with Hermit (what else would a five-year-old name her hermit crab?), prayers for the kids, and, finally, at 1:00 AM, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.

Actually, that wasn't the final part of the date. After the movie, we both lay in bed talking until I could no longer keep my eyes open. When the time between Bo's questions and my answers grew to 45 seconds, and my answers began to have nothing to do with his questions, he let me sleep.

That was my date with Bohemian, the love of my life.

Scrabble Chaos

We just finished playing Scrabble with modifications. Any word counts, including names and slang, you can trade tiles with any player, and younger players don't have to play off of an existing word.

It took forever.

Sweetheart quit because she couldn't spell her name yet again, Monet took forever, and Baby wanted to nurse or blow her nose every 45 seconds. I finally had to modify the modifications. After one minute, you forfeit your turn.

I have to go now. Baby is screaming to nurse (it's naptime...and she could probably use one, too) and there's pink lipstick on my keyboard, thanks to Sweetheart.

Okay, I take it back...

Here are the things I've done today:

FreeCycled for a brand-new, in-the-box, desktop 3-gallon aquarium which will be a Christmas gift.

Saw Bard and Bohemian off--him to work, her to choral practice.

Had a long talk with Houdin about how his brain functions and how he and I could learn to get along better.

Made my bed.

Cared for all of my animals.

Spent time working on finger-training one of our budgies.

Read the mail.

Nursed Baby all day long every 45 seconds.

Getting Nothing Done

There's not much more to say about it than that. Baby's got a cold, the house is quiet (though I'm not sure why...the kids are all still here--aren't they???) and I can't seem to leave my bedroom.

So, aside from nursing Baby every 45 seconds and reading blogs, I'm really getting nothing done.

dooce: I want my baby back, baby back, baby back

dooce: I want my baby back, baby back, baby back: "When you?re childless and young and hopeful you have this idea of what your children are going to be like, and you make mental notes when you see other kids in public. You say to yourself, ?My kid will be cute like that,? or ?My kid won?t ever throw a tantrum in public like that little demon.? I had always envisioned a sweet little princess who looked just like me sitting quietly in a high chair, her pressed velvet petticoat creased perfectly as she sat and waited to be handed things in a timely manner. And then you grow up and have kids and realize that YOU HAVE NO SAY, and the only clean thing she can wear is that over-sized red shirt that she will smear pears on before you leave the house, and that demon you once witnessed looks more and more human in hindsight."