Little Walks Down Memory Lane

Had a Tootsie Roll today. I eat Tootsie Rolls very seldom, and when I do - I might as well be right back at Baker Park at the age of about three. No kidding, I can still remember it. I took swimming lessons and the instructor put Tootsie rolls under water where she wanted us to put our faces. Just a step or two down (and wouldn't they float?-- she must have held them there...) That taste is summertime and swimming pool and reward for taking risks.

For Valentine's Day, Kevin bought me a combo iPhone alarm clock/charging station/music playing thingy. It was past time to throw away my old alarm clock. Many of the buttons were failing to work, and since I had my eyes fixed, I don't need the HUGE display the old clock had. That old alarm clock was the one we got when we got married, and it served us for almost 13 years! Can't say that about many of our other appliances. I can remember it resting on the bedside shelf in our first home on Lorilyn. And Kevin setting "Wake 1" and "Wake 2" when we both had jobs to get up for in the morning. I actually got a little nostalgic when I unplugged it tonight. It was 7:34 p.m. Can't count how many 11:11s I've seen on that thing.

I bought some pretty candles tonight to put in our bathroom. They're Gardenia-scented. A long time ago, my mom told me that was my Grandpa's favorite flower. I bought Gardenia-scented candles for my wedding, too. In a related story, Grandpa used to buy all the girls and women in the family a corsage for Christmas Eve. Not sure what type of flower -- probably not gardenias -- but regardless, the aroma in my bathroom now reminds me of Grandpa and corsages and special occasions.

That's all. Now I'm off to enjoy the scent of the candles drifting into my room and listen to the sounds of my iPod.

Finally Finished Walden

It's never a good sign when a book takes me several months to read. I picked up Walden, by Henry David Thoreau in oh, say... November?

Thoreau was a transcendentalist. I linked to its definition on Wikipedia, but if you don't have time to go there - think Oprah, but without so much fortune and a glossy magazine. Come to think of it, what I wouldn't give to be able to witness a conversation between Thoreau and Oprah. It is for sure that she would have asked him to appear on her show (were he alive) - given his transcendentalist beliefs and cherry-on-topped by his anti-slavery writing and lecturing. I can just imagine her applauding his simple life in a tiny abode on Walden Pond.

I don't have the intellect to comment much on Walden. If I had to sum up my problem with it - it was largely boring. When I was paying attention, I loved some of what he wrote, and found it challenging. But out of 224 pages, I was only truly engaged for about half.

Walden was never required reading in any of my high school or college classes, yet I recognized many lines - and I wonder where I heard them before.

If you're not already friends with Thoreau, acquaint yourself here with a few of his thoughts that stood out to me

"I should not talk so much about myself if there were any body else whom I knew as well." -p.5

"Public opinion is a weak tyrant compared with our own private opinion. What a man thinks of himself, that it is which determines, or rather indicates, his fate." -p.8

"None can be an impartial or wise observer of human life but from the vantage ground of what we should call voluntary poverty." -p.13

"It is an interesting question how far men would retain their relative rank if they were divested of their clothes." -p.19

"I say, beware of all enterprises that require new clothes, and not rather a new wearer of clothes." -p.19

 "We no longer camp as for a night, but have settled down on earth and forgotten heaven." -p.29

 "We are in great haste to construct a magnetic telegraph from Maine to Texas; but Maine and Texas, it may be, have nothing important to communicate." -p.39

[Too long to quote here, but he wrote insightfully on "news" (-p.67) and his critique is scathing and (to me) laugh-out-loud funny.]

"I did not wish to take a cabin passage, but rather to go before the mast and on the deck of the world, for there I could best see the moonlight amid the mountains. I do not wish to go below now." -p.217

"Shall a man go and hang himself because he belongs to the race of pygmies, and not be the biggest pygmy that he can? Let every one mind his own business, and endeavor to be what he was made." -p.219

"If a man does not keep pace with his companions, perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer. Let him step to the music which he hears, however measured or far away." -p.219

"I sat at a table where were rich food and wine in abundance, and obsequious attendance, but sincerity and truth were not; and I went away hungry from the inhospitable board." -p.222

Work

I'm introspecting. Nothing new, I do it all the time. But this is a bigger topic than my usual "Should I have that second helping of spaghetti?" Right now I'm wondering if I've ever really had to work hard at anything.

College degree? I went to UNLV. 'Nuff said.

Finding a husband? We were a match made in heaven and InterVarsity brought us together. I didn't even have to join an online dating service.

Ballet? Starring roles in my childhood recitals.

Golf? Natural talent.

Running? Okay, that takes a little effort...



The list of things I've dumped because they are too hard is much longer:
Really learning the computer...
...my camera...
...algebra...
...chemistry...
...online billpay...
...the coffee maker...
...Rubik's cube...
...football...
...Skype...
...shopping sales...
...cooking...

Did I mention cooking? Okay, I haven't dumped cooking because Kevin once gently explained to me that our family won't work unless I make at least a genuine effort to TRY to put together meals. (He also graciously offered to help, a lot, and thankfully follows through on this regularly.)

But, really, I think I skate through a lot of stuff keeping it as simple as possible. I have NO idea how I ever passed algebra and chemistry without cheating. But I know I didn't cheat, and I didn't flunk - so there must have been magic involved.

Today's introspection involves Joseph's registration in this online school. My vocation just got a LOT harder. If all the homeschool moms who know me could read this (and I hope they don't - my ego can't handle it) they would point and chuckle, surely. You see, I was skating along with homeschool. And if I didn't put in an hour of effort into teaching math every day, I justified my laziness by assuming my kids would still get the concepts by "being-home-with-mom osmosis".

For the past week, Joe has had about six to seven SOLID hours of schoolwork per day! Those of you who send your kids to school might roll your eyes at this, since a public school day is about that long - but these are SOLID WORK hours. For both of us. Not counting lunch, snacks, and other breaks. I'm tired. And I feel like I can't feel sorry for myself since I chose this route.

It's still the early days of this new curriculum. I know there's a learning curve and catch-up work involved in a "mastery-based" program. But as I stated before, I'm not good at learning. I'm MUCH happier with being naturally gifted at things. You can see how this new thing is stretching me in good ways, right? Because I can't. I want to go pout a little more.

Pudding Woes

Kevin wasn't coming home after work. No Daddy at dinnertime, no hero to put the kids to bed. Just me and my four children, all alone against the elements of a weeknight. A friend suggested I get my kids to help me make mini-pizzas followed by that pudding/banana/Nilla wafer dessert. This would pass the time and hopefully make the evening fun.

I made a grocery list for our menu, and lucked out when another friend kept the older three kids while John and I headed to the store. Once home, I realized I had gotten everything except the pudding, which is kind of crucial to the dessert. I called or texted all six of my neighbors, hoping someone had a box of vanilla pudding on hand. Nalleys - no. Mayers - no. Earlys - no. Elisaldezes - no. Kings - no. Rickards - yes! This was great news because I really had no energy or desire to load up the van and go back to the grocery store.

I procured the pudding and mixed it with milk and THEN noticed that I had a smaller box than the recipe called for. But I'd already added the larger quantity of milk. Texted Derryck Rickards again: "Do you happen to have TWO boxes of pudding?" The reply: "Sorry, no." Called Kristi and asked if she would interrupt her own dinner prep and evening craziness to come hang out at my house for 15 minutes while I ran to the store without kids. She said yes.

I was in a rush. I grabbed the pudding and narrowly missed colliding with a guy in the baking aisle as I attempted to dart between him and his cart while he looked at something on the shelf opposite. He finished looking and turned to his cart, not knowing a crazy lady with three boxes of vanilla pudding would be zooming by. Mutual apologies.

Shrewdly, I bypassed all the long lines at the checkstands to use the self-serve. Scanned the first box of pudding and an annoying pop-up informed me that "the attendant has been summoned and will help you shortly". Out loud, I said, "Seriously?" and scooted to the next station. I'm not sure if the attendant ever appeared. I think the attendant is a ruse. The whole point of the self-serve is to eliminate humans, right? That's my impression.

At home, I ripped open the new package of pudding, but just before adding it to my earlier mixture, Kristi stopped me. She noticed that instead of instant pudding, I had bought the "cook" pudding. I was crestfallen. Despondent. Frustrated. Hopeless. Pitiable. Angry.

Since I'd purchased three boxes of pudding, I scrapped the original batch and cooked up a new one. Kids cut up the bananas and we layered them with Nilla wafers and pudding. Even though this is the easiest recipe in the world - so easy even snakes can make it (and they don't have arms!) - mine turned out terrible. The pudding never set properly and was runny. I left bananas exposed at the top, so they browned. Frankly, I'm surprised toxic fumes didn't come rising out of the dish and wipe out my family.

The day was done. We ate the runny pudding. We brushed our teeth and went to bed. Next time I make dessert, I'll stick to what I know - chocolate chip cookies. In fact, this might be a great time to bake up a batch for all of my wonderful friends - even those who don't keep vanilla pudding on hand. Because I am a COMPLETE loser in the kitchen, but I sure have good neighbors and friends.

Picture of the Week

Here we see the dashing tiled entry way of a house not far from mine. Know what's special about it? Some really cool people are moving in to the house that boasts this entry way. All the way from Bakersfield, California. And they picked this neighborhood voluntarily! That means they must think it sounds acceptable to live close to us! (I know that the irresistible lure was Mike Nalley's home-cooked Chateaubriand --- but for the record we are still awaiting an invitation to dine there.)

Just this week they found out that their offer was accepted and now I'm counting the days until we have some (more) fun friends just a few houses down.

Mouse? Or Dinosaur. You Be The Judge.

Today, the girls got out the modeling clay. Bethanie made a pink bowl, lined it with paper, filled it with rocks, and placed it out back in the sun to bake.

Cayna made a mouse. Here she is with her work in progress:

While she worked, I noted the long legs on the mouse. The word "brontosaurus" came to mind. But I don't even think they call the brontosaurus a brontosaurus anymore. I think he's a brachiosaurus or apatosaurus or some such thing. I just kept my mouth shut as my sculptor daughter added the ears, whiskers, and tail. Just like I keep my mouth shut when she chooses her outfits, spells her words phonetically, "cleans" her room, styles her hair, and asserts her will-that-is-always-opposite-of-my-will in every area of a seven year-old life.

Here is the finished... mouse, I suppose:

Smiley thing, eh? And long-legged. Have you ever met a long-legged mouse? Ever met a mouse that peed in a litter box? Meowed? Wiped small villages out with its tail?

Whether I agree or not, the creator has declared this a mouse. So a mouse it is. In motherhood, I've learned, things aren't always as they appear.

Shortly after the mouse was presented to me, the girls went back to work upstairs and manufactured this, their boat:

It "sailed" out of Joe's room to music Cayna makes. Music which sounds like trumpeting and humming and a repeating drum line all wrapped into one. They had worked hard on their boat, and I was relieved to recognize it as, indeed, a boat. Take a close look and you will see the "driver" up front, the toilet in the very back (shield your eyes--someone is using it) and two little girls with all the time in the world to build boats and craft bowls and... mice.

School Switch

We're making a big switch in our homeschooling. At least for Joe. As of today, we are re-registering him in public school - but he'll still be homeschooled. He will be a student at Nevada Virtual Academy, using K12 curriculum.

What motivated the switch: 1) I had pared down Joe's daily lessons, eliminating parts of his curriculum that were overly dry, in my opinion. He was left with less than two hours of schoolwork a day. He needed more work and more challenge and I couldn't pull that out of his current curriculum (or create it myself) without expending loads of energy I don't have.

2) My concerns about "compartmentalizing" faith, schoolwork, friend time, sports, and other activities - which drove me to choose a Catholic curriculum initially - were unfounded. As Kevin and I have talked about this, we realize that since we live out our faith and try to follow Jesus every day, there is no way that faith could be relegated to a separate compartment. Our faith permeates everything we do, and I am no longer concerned that it will be removed from other parts of our lives.

3) Community. We have none. Even the Catholic families who homeschool in our very same neighborhood do things so differently and have such varying life circumstances that we rarely get together. We are also part of a vibrant Catholic homeschool group, but, sadly, most of the families in the group are on the other side of town. We can enjoy occasional get-togethers, but I'm not seeing friendships grow between my children and theirs. There is too much distance and not enough time. Admittedly, I have hopes and expectations that we will develop some community through this "school" and it will help me feel less isolated.

With everything that I've recently learned about Classical education, Kevin initially pointed out that this seems a step away from my ideal. Yes, but it isn't any further than we already were. And thanks to the learning I've done, I've been able to implement new principles in our school day - principles which won't evaporate when we start this new school. This might be an on-ramp to eventually enrolling in a school like the Catholic Liberal Arts Academy - but let's see how an online school works a little closer to home first.

There is the worry (for a home-birthin', home-schoolin', home-cookin' kind of a gal) that I am selling out. I may be. Certainly it will be odd to have report cards and standardized tests become a part of our lives again. But there is hope in change, and this change comes with much prayer and the wisdom God has given me.