DD #2 to me as I type this morning:
Mama, you need to change Mae! She is stinky!
(still typing)
Mama....
Mama....
(still typing)
OK, Mama, I'm going to count!
1...
2...
3...
4...
8...
9...
3...
(I figure at this point I have more time than I thought)
Mama!
I guess I better get on it, eh?
;)
Wednesday, October 11, 2006
Tuesday, October 10, 2006
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Monday, October 09, 2006
High Expectations
DD #2 to me as she slurped the last drops from my iced espresso:
I wish I was a Mama and could have coffee when I teach the kids at the homeschool table.
Yes, dear daughter, someday you might be so lucky!
I wish I was a Mama and could have coffee when I teach the kids at the homeschool table.
Yes, dear daughter, someday you might be so lucky!
Sunday, October 08, 2006
Making Good Decisions
Here's the situation.
DS #1 has been itching for more freedom lately, since he is oh-so-grown-up at the age of (almost) 9.
And so, DH and I have allowed him some sweet tastes of freedom which include going to play outside with the neighborhood kids after 7:30. (which is rapidly becoming "after dark") Usually, the kids stay within eyesight, playing in a front yard, or on the street, and that is definitely within my comfort zone.
But, the other evening, DS asked permission to go to the "park" that is one street over to look at the rabbits and play in the field there with two of the kids from our street. It's completely surrounded by houses on a fairly quiet street. It's not a "draw", since what little equipment they have is seriously outdated, and all the houses face it, and so everyone can keep an eye on what is going on.
Except me.
Now, breathe easy, nothing happened.
He went, he returned, he had a great time.
I was a wreck the whole time, watching the dusk deepen within every minute, and imagining what horrible things could have happened in the 5 minutes he had been gone.
Just as I was about to lose my mind, DH went out the front door and met up with the Grandpa of one of the kids that went with DS #1. And so, they both went to the park to fetch them.
DH played it cool, made casual conversation, and didn't tell DS #1 that he had come to walk him home. (They were already starting to come home when DH went to get them) And, though it was hard, I wasn't all over him about every little detail of what they did during the 15 minutes they were there. And I was rewarded with an enthusiastic blow-by-blow of chasing rabbits and sliding in the sand by the swingset.
Tonight, DS #1 went across the street to play with his friends again, and it seemed like they were going to hang out in his friend's front yard. Eventually, they disappeared, and I went over to see where they went. They were inside, chatting with the grandparents, about to play "wheelbarrow" in the backyard. I said fine, be home by 8pm.
At 7:30, they showed up and invaded our backyard, dragging play equipment all over kingdom come and swinging like monkeys from our rope swings. At 8pm they left.
And then I heard from DS #1 that the kids had been telling scary stories....
I knew this because DS #2 had also been across the street in the front yard briefly, but came home because he didn't want to hear the stories. I decided not to call DS #1 home, but let him make that decision for himself. (*This is a huge step for me, people*) And now he was scared.
I reminded him of this story. About how the Squire kept his heart pure by following the words on the scroll, the words that we are also teaching our children....one lesson among the many being, "listen only to words that are pure." I told him that I didn't call him home because I wanted him to make his own decision about what he could handle. And I hoped that from now on he would make better decisions.
And I'll keep on praying to his guardian angel!
DS #1 has been itching for more freedom lately, since he is oh-so-grown-up at the age of (almost) 9.
And so, DH and I have allowed him some sweet tastes of freedom which include going to play outside with the neighborhood kids after 7:30. (which is rapidly becoming "after dark") Usually, the kids stay within eyesight, playing in a front yard, or on the street, and that is definitely within my comfort zone.
But, the other evening, DS asked permission to go to the "park" that is one street over to look at the rabbits and play in the field there with two of the kids from our street. It's completely surrounded by houses on a fairly quiet street. It's not a "draw", since what little equipment they have is seriously outdated, and all the houses face it, and so everyone can keep an eye on what is going on.
Except me.
Now, breathe easy, nothing happened.
He went, he returned, he had a great time.
I was a wreck the whole time, watching the dusk deepen within every minute, and imagining what horrible things could have happened in the 5 minutes he had been gone.
Just as I was about to lose my mind, DH went out the front door and met up with the Grandpa of one of the kids that went with DS #1. And so, they both went to the park to fetch them.
DH played it cool, made casual conversation, and didn't tell DS #1 that he had come to walk him home. (They were already starting to come home when DH went to get them) And, though it was hard, I wasn't all over him about every little detail of what they did during the 15 minutes they were there. And I was rewarded with an enthusiastic blow-by-blow of chasing rabbits and sliding in the sand by the swingset.
Tonight, DS #1 went across the street to play with his friends again, and it seemed like they were going to hang out in his friend's front yard. Eventually, they disappeared, and I went over to see where they went. They were inside, chatting with the grandparents, about to play "wheelbarrow" in the backyard. I said fine, be home by 8pm.
At 7:30, they showed up and invaded our backyard, dragging play equipment all over kingdom come and swinging like monkeys from our rope swings. At 8pm they left.
And then I heard from DS #1 that the kids had been telling scary stories....
I knew this because DS #2 had also been across the street in the front yard briefly, but came home because he didn't want to hear the stories. I decided not to call DS #1 home, but let him make that decision for himself. (*This is a huge step for me, people*) And now he was scared.
I reminded him of this story. About how the Squire kept his heart pure by following the words on the scroll, the words that we are also teaching our children....one lesson among the many being, "listen only to words that are pure." I told him that I didn't call him home because I wanted him to make his own decision about what he could handle. And I hoped that from now on he would make better decisions.
And I'll keep on praying to his guardian angel!
Thursday, October 05, 2006
I Am From...
I have seen this a few times on other blogs, and wanted to try it out. Talk about exercising one's creative writing skills! It was wonderful to do. Here's the link if you would like to try it out.
I am from muggy summers and fans whirring in the night. I am from winter ice storms and Radio Flyer sleds.
I am from a kick-the-can neighborhood, and “ghost in the graveyard” after dark. From pink-checked canopy beds and Marie Osmond Barbie dolls, and Carvel ice cream cakes.
I am from spring lilacs and summers on the beach. From backyard gardens with fresh tomatoes and ripe blueberries.
I am from Thanksgiving soccer games, and the love of all sports. I am from Donna and Ed, from Mae and Chester and Regina.
I am from peacemakers, and generosity. I am from strong convictions, and stubborn refusal to let difficulties go unchallenged.
I am from “family is everything” and “there is always room for one more”…
I am from folk guitars and hands upraised. I am from 3am visits to His most awesome Presence. From joy and contemplation. I am from Rome, true to our Vicar on earth.
I am from NY pride, Polish stubbornness and Irish loyalty. From Christmas Eve Vigilias and huge family gatherings for every occasion.
I am from my grandmother who listened, and dressed me up in her jewels. From my grandfather who fought overseas, and then came home and fought for his livelihood, battling blazes in NYC. I am from my own father, who fought the tide of the world and held strong to his beliefs, and raised us in safety. I am mostly from my mother, whose strength and skill lives in me.
I am from 8mm home movies, and Kodak Instamatic cameras. From a big red photo album with yellow-covered sticky pages, and a watery blue baby book. Both are filled with faces and memories of family and friends long-forgotten. Until we resurrect it and reminisce and laugh and cry over what used to be.
And we look with love around us at what it has become...
I am from muggy summers and fans whirring in the night. I am from winter ice storms and Radio Flyer sleds.
I am from a kick-the-can neighborhood, and “ghost in the graveyard” after dark. From pink-checked canopy beds and Marie Osmond Barbie dolls, and Carvel ice cream cakes.
I am from spring lilacs and summers on the beach. From backyard gardens with fresh tomatoes and ripe blueberries.
I am from Thanksgiving soccer games, and the love of all sports. I am from Donna and Ed, from Mae and Chester and Regina.
I am from peacemakers, and generosity. I am from strong convictions, and stubborn refusal to let difficulties go unchallenged.
I am from “family is everything” and “there is always room for one more”…
I am from folk guitars and hands upraised. I am from 3am visits to His most awesome Presence. From joy and contemplation. I am from Rome, true to our Vicar on earth.
I am from NY pride, Polish stubbornness and Irish loyalty. From Christmas Eve Vigilias and huge family gatherings for every occasion.
I am from my grandmother who listened, and dressed me up in her jewels. From my grandfather who fought overseas, and then came home and fought for his livelihood, battling blazes in NYC. I am from my own father, who fought the tide of the world and held strong to his beliefs, and raised us in safety. I am mostly from my mother, whose strength and skill lives in me.
I am from 8mm home movies, and Kodak Instamatic cameras. From a big red photo album with yellow-covered sticky pages, and a watery blue baby book. Both are filled with faces and memories of family and friends long-forgotten. Until we resurrect it and reminisce and laugh and cry over what used to be.
And we look with love around us at what it has become...
Wednesday, October 04, 2006
The Pirates...
...no, not of The Carribean. (Although, I really liked both of those movies)
Both boys graduated to "coach pitch" baseball this season, and are really enjoying it. And even though it is technically called coach pitch, they are already practicing for the next level of "kid pitch". They start out each batter with a player pitching, and when (if) they get to 4 balls, the coach comes out and pitches.
DS #1 has been pitching, and doing great! DS #2 loves his team, and his coach. He has been playing a lot of infield positions. Both of them need to work on their throws, and strengthening their arms. And this leads to a lot of "lifting weights" (like chairs and play tables) and exercising with me...
I love to go to their games and get to know the other families and players. It's a great bunch of people. It's going to be a fun fall!
Both boys graduated to "coach pitch" baseball this season, and are really enjoying it. And even though it is technically called coach pitch, they are already practicing for the next level of "kid pitch". They start out each batter with a player pitching, and when (if) they get to 4 balls, the coach comes out and pitches.
DS #1 has been pitching, and doing great! DS #2 loves his team, and his coach. He has been playing a lot of infield positions. Both of them need to work on their throws, and strengthening their arms. And this leads to a lot of "lifting weights" (like chairs and play tables) and exercising with me...
I love to go to their games and get to know the other families and players. It's a great bunch of people. It's going to be a fun fall!
Monday, October 02, 2006
Apparently...
...nowhere is safe.
Even a one-room Amish Schoolhouse!
Which leads me to my oh-so-brilliant thought for the day:
Homeschooling and being Over-Protective.
DH and I were having this discussion on the way home from church yesterday. He had had a conversation with another homeschooling Dad who declared that he would not allow his son to be an acolyte at any other parish than his own. (due to the whole sexual abuse scandal in the church) While I understand his sentiments, and especially the need to be protective of one's children in this regard, (I have very strong feelings on this particular subject...) this particular family goes a bit "overboard" in guarding their children from forming friendships outside our homeschooling community (and even within it, since I think our family may be part of the 'anathema' list)
Here's the jist.
-We don't make our girls wear skirts all the time.
-I don't wear skirts all the time.
-We allow our children to listen to (some) rock music.
-We allow them to play out front with the neighborhood (public-schooled) kids.
-We go to the parish everyone else left when a new priest came in. Almost everyone else followed the old priest to his new parish.
-We have maintained our friendships with all of our friends, despite their schooling choices. I'm talking rock-solid Catholics, here.
What does this have to do with homeschooling?
Well, I have heard a few Moms admit that the reason they homeschool is that, indeed, they do want to raise their kids in a bubble. They want no outside worldly influence to play any part, or have any effect on their family.
I think that is a baaaaad idea.
What is going to happen to these kids when they <*gasp*> go to the mall?
Will they survive?
Or how about the whole college experience?
I'm sure they will go to an awesome Catholic college, but even there, don't tell me that everyone is a paragon of virtue. How many shotgun weddings do you know occurred after graduation? I can name quite a few. And what about the attraction and excitement of the "unknown'? Will they be too scared to experiment? Or do they have an adventuresome personality with no notion of limits and moderation?
Yes, it is a tightrope walk, this whole raising of children. I claim no authority beyond my limit, no superiority of method here.
All I know, is that forbidden fruit seems sweeter when it is such, and we parents need to play that card only when it a serious serious matter....
-drugs
-pre-marital sex
-not going to mass
-obedience
-treating people with respect
And the virtues will come through perserverance and example, and gentle correction.
So, why do we homeschool? Our reasons are multi-faceted, having to do with the personality of our kids, and my belief that homeschooling is more efficient on many levels. Of course, money is an issue too. I would not send my kids to the local public school here, because we are urban, and there is a gang influence. Not safe, in my opinion. And so, the only other option is an expensive awesome private Catholic school. Maybe when the kids get older...
Any other thoughts...things that I missed?
Even a one-room Amish Schoolhouse!
Which leads me to my oh-so-brilliant thought for the day:
Homeschooling and being Over-Protective.
DH and I were having this discussion on the way home from church yesterday. He had had a conversation with another homeschooling Dad who declared that he would not allow his son to be an acolyte at any other parish than his own. (due to the whole sexual abuse scandal in the church) While I understand his sentiments, and especially the need to be protective of one's children in this regard, (I have very strong feelings on this particular subject...) this particular family goes a bit "overboard" in guarding their children from forming friendships outside our homeschooling community (and even within it, since I think our family may be part of the 'anathema' list)
Here's the jist.
-We don't make our girls wear skirts all the time.
-I don't wear skirts all the time.
-We allow our children to listen to (some) rock music.
-We allow them to play out front with the neighborhood (public-schooled) kids.
-We go to the parish everyone else left when a new priest came in. Almost everyone else followed the old priest to his new parish.
-We have maintained our friendships with all of our friends, despite their schooling choices. I'm talking rock-solid Catholics, here.
What does this have to do with homeschooling?
Well, I have heard a few Moms admit that the reason they homeschool is that, indeed, they do want to raise their kids in a bubble. They want no outside worldly influence to play any part, or have any effect on their family.
I think that is a baaaaad idea.
What is going to happen to these kids when they <*gasp*> go to the mall?
Will they survive?
Or how about the whole college experience?
I'm sure they will go to an awesome Catholic college, but even there, don't tell me that everyone is a paragon of virtue. How many shotgun weddings do you know occurred after graduation? I can name quite a few. And what about the attraction and excitement of the "unknown'? Will they be too scared to experiment? Or do they have an adventuresome personality with no notion of limits and moderation?
Yes, it is a tightrope walk, this whole raising of children. I claim no authority beyond my limit, no superiority of method here.
All I know, is that forbidden fruit seems sweeter when it is such, and we parents need to play that card only when it a serious serious matter....
-drugs
-pre-marital sex
-not going to mass
-obedience
-treating people with respect
And the virtues will come through perserverance and example, and gentle correction.
So, why do we homeschool? Our reasons are multi-faceted, having to do with the personality of our kids, and my belief that homeschooling is more efficient on many levels. Of course, money is an issue too. I would not send my kids to the local public school here, because we are urban, and there is a gang influence. Not safe, in my opinion. And so, the only other option is an expensive awesome private Catholic school. Maybe when the kids get older...
Any other thoughts...things that I missed?
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