It's like Tuesdays with Morrie without all the wisdom
I homeschool
Oh, Children
10April 11, 2008
by Abby
in I homeschool
Maya was crying really hard last night because she wants to be a baby again, “Yena and Yiberty were nice to me when I yas a baaaayyyybeeeeee!” *sob* I’m going to stop letting her watch home videos. Or, I should make her watch recent home videos where it appears that Lena and Liberty are much nicer to her than they are in real life. She doesn’t quite understand that I learned from my sister to turn the video camera off before all hell breaks loose. That way, when the kids are grown and they have complaints I can say, “Let’s go to the tape!” and they won’t be able to prove anything. For the record, Lena and Liberty are plenty nice to her as it is. I’m not really sure what that was all about last night, but I’m sure there’s some 4 1/2 year old thing going on. It did come on the heels of a park day where Maya played with some friends for about 2 hours without ever checking in with me. Or, maybe it’s because I suggested she could wipe her own butt from time to time. I don’t know. Anyway, we cuddled and cuddled and looked at her baby book while she pointed to all the things that she misses about being a baby. These things include, but are not limited to: being born, having Daddy cut her umbilical cord, floating in the midwife’s lovely herbal bath, being dressed in her first outfit, being carried in a sling, wearing a diaper, eating pureed carrots, and of course nursing. She also mentioned with contempt that nobody ever helps her get dressed. I resisted the urge to point out that the only time she ever allowed me to help her get dressed was when her brain was more comparable to a slug’s. Once she found out that she had control over her own arms and legs, if I so much as came into the room where she was getting dressed, she would screech at me in such a way that there was no mistaking that if I tried to help her, she would find a way to kill me. So we cuddled, she slept in my bed (as usual, but without first falling asleep in the bedroom that she shares with her sisters), I rubbed her back, and I didn’t point out all of the things she can do now that she’s big because it seemed like she needed to vent and it didn’t seem like I would be able to convince her that it’s better to be big because, really, it probably isn’t. *sigh*
Lena and Liberty also had a little flash of, “Hey, why don’t you mother us better?” yesterday. Thursday was homeschool gym day and I look at homeschool gym as a class, not a spectator event, so I don’t go into the loud, loud, poorly lit gym to watch. Contrary to popular belief, it isn’t just because I like to talk to my friends out in the halls. It’s also because it’s a class. I don’t watch them do their beading class. Or pottery. Or art. I was informed yesterday at dinner that this is unjust and will not be tolerated any longer. Fine. Fine! I said it was fine. I will watch homeschool gym (sporadically) from now on, I promise.
No matter, I’m still riding high on the wave of pride induced by the fact that after gym yesterday, Lena and Liberty were looking through a box of freebies that another homeschool mom brought in for all of us to go through. There were some books and a bunch of VHS tapes, but Lena and Liberty both grabbed for the Monty Python and the Holy Grail tape. In my family, we enjoy this kind of thing, so seeing them fight over that tape was akin to the pride I feel when I’m told they look like me. They watched that movie once a long time ago and they remembered the black night saying “It’s just a flesh wound,” after losing his arms, and the fact that everybody’s running around pretending to ride horses. I’m pretty sure a little tear fell from eye when I overheard their reminiscing. Watching it this time, though, was a whole new thing for them because they couldn’t read the first time they watched it. The opening credits had them rolling with laughter. “A moose once bit my sister,” hahahahahaha! Again, I say *sigh*
She’s Grim(m), but She’s No Plagiarist
7March 28, 2008
We stole this story pocket idea from somebody we don’t even know. Maya had a lot of fun and I think her story gives you an idea of what goes on in her mind most of the time.
I told her to paint a story and then she could tell me the story and I would write her words on the bottom of each picture.
“The little bad wolf ate the kid.”
Yes, the little bad wolf ate the kid, not to be confused with the big bad wolf because somebody already wrote that story.
“Then he ate the grandma in the sun.”
The sun is a nice touch, don’t you think?
“Then the grandma and the kid ate the wolf.”
At least they got their revenge.
Maya cackled maniacally while she painted these pictures and she couldn’t wait to tell me the story. She has re-told it several times, adding details like, “the grandma and the kid cut off the wolf’s head before they ate him.” I’m sure it had something to do with presentation.
She’s been very proudly matching up the words to her morbid little story all afternoon.
Thank God we homeschool. If she had done this in pre-school, I’m sure we’d be getting a visit from CPS.
I’m Sorry, Oprah.
9March 18, 2008
It’s raining today, what a surprise. I knew it would be raining because it’s homeschool art class day and homeschool art class day is when my friends and I drop our kids off and walk to the most beautiful coffee shop in the world. And on every single homeschool art class day, the weather has treated us like shit. It’s either raining or freezing cold, even if it was sunny and 50 degrees the day before. I think that the universe thinks that if we get to spend an hour and a half chatting in a beautiful coffee shop and have nice weather for our little walk, our heads might just explode with glee. I guess that could happen. The more likely theory is that this kind of thing happens because I once hung up on Oprah and she’s been punishing me in these little ways ever since.
To be fair, I didn’t know Oprah was going to be Queen of the Universe back when I hung up on her and I really think she should take that into consideration. It was the ’80s and I’m not even sure her ratings were better than Donahue’s at that time. She was having a show about bad neighbors and I had a really bad neighbor. When I was 8, he shot my first pet, Pooty the cat, and then pointed a gun at my mom when my parents confronted him. (No, we didn’t live in a trailer park. Why do you ask?) Anyway, this was back in the call-in days. I figured I had a story to tell, so I called and called and called. Every time somebody told their bad neighbor story, I was all, “My story is worse than that you big baby!” while I frantically dialed through my tears. I finally got through during the last commercial break. I don’t remember how the person answered the phone, but I know I said, “My neighbor is so bad, he shot my cat because she walked on his car and then when my dad and mom went over there, he pointed the gun at my mom! And we don’t even live in a trailer park!” The person on the phone said, “Ok,” and then I heard a click. I thought that meant I should hang up. I was little. They came back from commercial and I was bouncing up and down on the couch waiting for Oprah to say something like, “We just had the most precious little girl call in and tell us the worst story we’ve heard yet today. This story puts all of our panel guests’ stories to shame. Oh, the tragedy this little child has faced. I don’t know how she finds the strength to go on.” But she didn’t say anything like that. She said, “Ok, we have a caller. Go ahead, Caller. Caller? Caller, are you there? Jesus H. Christ, Caller? WTF?” And then she turned to her producer and said, “Don’t tell me that little bitch hung up on me.” At least, that’s the way I remember it. And can I tell you how a little piece of me died that day? I watched Oprah get all tense because I hung up on her. I felt an odd mix of elation and dread. I could’ve been on OPRAH! Oh no, I hung up on OPRAH! And then my parents got divorced. I don’t think it’s a coincidence.
So, I want to say I’m sorry to Oprah. I also want to say I’m sorry to my homeschool mom friends. I shouldn’t have kept this part of my past from you. I don’t want you to be hurt by any more of Oprah’s cosmic retaliation powers. I mean, I’m not sorry enough that I’m going to skip the coffee shop just so you guys can have a nice walk there, but still. At least now you know the truth.
Meme: Passion Quilt
15March 14, 2008
Dawn tagged me with a really hard meme. But I still love her.
# Think about what you are passionate about teaching your students.
# Post a picture from a source like FlickrCC or Flickr Creative Commons or make/take your own that captures what YOU are most passionate about for kids to learn about…and give your picture a short title.
# Title your blog post “Meme: Passion Quilt” and link back to this blog entry.
# Include links to 5 folks in your professional learning network or whom you follow on Twitter/Pownce.
I’m tagging Mechelle, Sharon, TTPG, Alissa and AmazonMidwife.
The most important thing I want these extraordinary kids to know is that they matter. What they think matters. What they feel matters. What they want matters. What they don’t want matters. I’m trying to come up with something more, but that’s it. I want them to know themselves in different ways that might be unexpected even to themselves. I want them to be boundless in self-discovery and fearless in self-expression. I want them to know that they are powerful.
Let’s Stay Together
10March 12, 2008
Bryan screwed the front license plate on our cars. Did you hear me? Do you know what that means? He paid $2.50 for the proper screws and he screwed our Ohio license plates onto the front of my mini van and his falling-apart-type beater thing. We’ve been living in Ohio for 3 years now. We came from Michigan, land of the single, back-end only license plate. Apparently, there is no point in having one on the front and one on the back when there isn’t any money in the state budget for highway patrol.
So we’ve been driving around with our front license plate tucked on our dashboard for 3 years. Last year, Bryan was issued a $40 ticket for this very infraction, yet he still couldn’t bring himself to permanently attach the license plates. This type of to-do list inaction is so against his character as a man that even he, King Literal, Head of the Knights of the Anti-Allegorical Order, could see the symbolism. As Bo Schembechler, rest His soul (yes, that’s a capital “H”) would say, he’s a Michigan Man. He loves that when he looks at his veins, they’re running blue. And he tries to never actually bleed because, well, the blood is scarlet. Nothing makes him more annoyed than Buckeye fever. That’s hard when you live in Columbus. Attaching the license plates? That’s some permanent stuff.
This move was supposed to be temporary. It was a way to get out of the shit-hole AT&T customer service job that he had been in for 6 years. A voluntary transfer to a better department in a city that we were bred to hate. My dad said, “Columbus? I raised you better than that! Divorce him!” Not really, but close. Indeed, I never would’ve agreed to a permanent move. We lived in our hometown of Chesaning, near both of our families in a house that we transformed from a run-down hovel into a gorgeous historic home fit for Chesaning’s now-defunct Parade of Homes. Move? MOVE? “I never would’ve married somebody who was going to move me away from my family,” said I, Queen Co-Dependent, Head Lady in Charge of Seeking Approval from Extended Family At All Costs. Ouch.
Then we moved. I was ready to look at this as temporary to get him out of that job, and just do what I could to get by for a couple of years and then move back home. But Columbus, she’s a seductress. She found many, many ways to my heart. Usually food is the only way to my heart, and she definitely has that covered, but let’s just take homeschooling as another for instance.
Homeschooling is a huge part of our lives and in Chesaning, we were a very lonely minority. I had no idea how lonely until we moved here. Homeschooling Community, you had me at hello. The Homeschool Gym, Homeschool classes that are offered at art galleries, science museums, recreation centers, the zoo, the metro parks, and anywhere you want them. Seriously, you just call places and say, “we want a homeschool class/tour,” and they fall all over themselves to make it happen. The roller skating rink? Some homeschooler called up and said, “We be homeschoolers and we desire to trade cash for services. But the cash shall be of an amount that is less than what they who are not homeschoolers pay.” And the roller rink (and the ice skating rink, btw) said, “Let it be written. Let it be so.” Support for homeschooling instead of blank stares and defensiveness? I. Had. No. Idea.
Oh, and there are fun people here, too. We like you guys.
**Oh my, you should feel how my blood pressure went up and my pulse quickened and my brain screamed, “Don’t talk about how much you love your Ohio friends! The people in Michigan are going to think you don’t like them anymore! What if they call you and yell at you for making new friends? Omigod, you are going to be abandoned!”**
That reminds me, one more thing we love about Columbus is the many options for psychotherapy.
It’s ok. It’s really ok. It’s hard to come out, but we’re doing it…
We love Columbus: The people, the stuff to do, the stuff to eat, the therapists. Not the buckeyes. We’ll never love the buckeyes. But we have 2 license plates on our vehicles now and, dammit, it feels good.
