Goodbye Welfare...

I'm officially off welfare, woohoo! As you may remember, we had an exhausting job-hunting requirement in order to get state aid. Sign a contract every 30 days. Turn in 20 job applications each week and supply a list of everywhere we applied every Friday. Well, since our dental work is now done and Vic is working steadily (still for cash, but it's work), last month we just skipped the applications. We didn't turn in any job logs, so we didn't get a check this month. We still have food stamps, but since I never returned the review call last week, we won't get those anymore either. The best part? Even without the extra money from the state, we paid the bills and still bought Christmas presents this month.

Vic is waiting to hear about a new job opportunity in a week or so. Hopefully it will work out because it comes with a lot of benefits, but if it doesn't there are still lots of options out there. I can't believe we had to go on welfare just to get back on our feet, but I'm so glad I live in a country where a person can get help when they need it. We're not a whole lot better off than we were before this whole ordeal, but I'm hopeful that one day we can look back on this knowing it was the best thing we could have done.

Thank goodness it isn't permanent...

.. the brain damage I mean. We were right back in the swing of things today. Chad plugged away and finished his math in less than an hour, which may be a new record. Cadence happily read (correctly) everything she could get her hands on. Riley not only practiced letters, but did so entirely without my interference. I didn't even give her the crayons.

Nobody cried. Nobody said something was too hard or they were too stupid. Science reading led to an interesting discussion, which even carried over to this evening with Riley "teaching" me about what's inside your body. ("Your brain is special. It makes your teeth chew.") This afternoon, Cadence decided to write a poem (the word "fart" was used only once), and Chad read his new book Wolf Brother. He even begged to stay up late to read just a little bit more. It was a homeschooler's dream.

Now if I could just get them to do anything else (eat, dress, bathe, play) with such ease, my home will be a very pleasant place indeed.

New Year's Resolutions?...

Anyone have any resolutions this year? I have never made a New Year's resolution that I kept. This is a common confession really, but most are probably like me and only making the resolution because they're supposed to and not because they want to. So I don't really practice New Year's resolutions. My resolutions come in the form of a wonderful idea, which grows for weeks before coming out in the form of a declaration. Something like, "I am no longer wearing thong underwear. They chafe and don't fit right and I hate them. Monday I'm taking every pair I own and donating them to the Goodwill, and buying three new packages of bikinis instead."

I have an insatiable need for change. I rearrange furniture at least once per year. I buy/make new curtains. I paint. I replace rugs and drawer liners. I can't afford to buy new sheets and blankets every few months, so I keep several sets and swap them out every so often. I plant different flowers in the yard every spring. Outside of my home and general surroundings, I frequently re-invent myself. I don't know who I am and I don't want to. Since high school, I've been grunge, punk, feminazi, soul-searching bible-reader, naturalistic attached parent, sexy strip-club-hopping party girl, laid-back and spiritual, and most recently, home-centered seamstress and worker of fibers. There are other categories I could have fit into and most of those alter-egos still live inside me somewhere, but at the time I never thought of myself with any of those labels. I was just being me. The constants among all the changes are what make me who I am. I have always loved my children and put them first. I have always been a redneck and prefer fishing and beer to operas and champagne. I have always been more concerned with how much fun I was having than what others thought of me. And most importantly, I'm determined to be myself - being who I am, unaffected by what I do.

This constant changing is my way of dealing with the monotony of normal life. I would be truly happy to move to a different house in a different town every two years, but I will live in this house until we can afford to move (or rebuild, whichever comes first - 7 years and counting). I have no control over where I live or the layout of my home and yard. But I can control the placement of my furniture, the paint color in the bathroom, which flowers I plant and where, my clothes and hair, and what I do for fun. Since my husband and family undoubtedly could not handle moving as frequently as I'd like, I'll settle for changing what I can. My changes keep me happy, and although Vic shakes his head after every declared resolution ("I hate this shower curtain. I'm going to make a cover for it tomorrow with that leftover fabric."), I don't think he'd be happy with a boring old "normal" woman.

Whatever your resolutions, make them something satisfying. Happy New Year to everyone!

Miss a day, miss a lot...

Ok, it was technically three days of schoolwork missed for the traditional holiday celebrating, but apparently chocolate and candy canes destroy brain cells. Incidents during school time and the playtime (I call it "unstructured learning - it soothes the control freak in me):

Chad: Which of these states is Montana?
Me (rolling eyes): The green one.
Chad (pointing to California): This one? No, wait. That's Indiana isn't it?
I passed him the U.S. Atlas.

Cadence constantly reversed entire words while reading. Small words like "mot" for "Tom", as well as big words like "please" instead of "sleep." I don't know what the deal is with that. Chad, normally fantastic at reading aloud, could not for the life of him read "Apollo." He kept putting an R in it. Aprollo. Arpollo. Apollro. I'm still scratching my head over it.

Nobody could remember how to do any of the math they were doing without trouble just days ago.

Riley, who knows all her letters and had happily practiced her name all Christmas day on her new Magnadoodle, insisted she didn't know how to write her name. Her writing "lesson" consisted of throwing crayons on the floor and stomping on them. Hey, I'm not pushing her - she asked to "do school" and then acted that way. Sheesh.

Dump it in the crockpot...

I love my crockpot. There are lots of folks who think it's cheating to dump stuff in a slow cooker, leave it until evening and call it a home-cooked meal. I figure if I cooked it in my kitchen, it's a home-cooked meal. I'm not too proud to use break and bake cookies. I've used the breadmaker to kneed dough for cinnamon rolls. And the crockpot is my best friend some days.

Tonight we're having chicken-chili tacos. The recipe was just called "Chicken Chili," but my family doesn't go for chili in a bowl. In my house, chili is for topping a burrito or a hot dog. Anyway, here's the recipe:

3-4 large chicken breasts (we use the frozen-in-a-bag kind), cut up into small pieces
2 cans diced tomatoes DRAINED
1 large can or about 2 cups cooked pinto beans
1 packet taco seasoning
1 cup frozen corn
1/2 cup each of chopped onion, sliced black olives, and green peppers (in my version I use onion powder and omit the rest)
2 Tbs tapioca (dry, from a box)

Dump into crockpot. Stir. Cook 4 hours on low setting. Scoop into flour tortillas, sprinkle with cheese, wrap it all up. Eat.

If you really are looking for chili, you can use petite diced tomatoes instead and add without draining. Super easy. My kind of meal.

Nothing to see here, move along...

Just in case anyone subscribes to my blog, I thought it best to warn you I've been making some changes. I just figured out the labels on blogger beta, and since I had nothing better to do at the moment, I've been going back and adding labels to all my old posts. The new labels will be a huge help to those of you interested in what we're doing for schoolwork but don't care about my measly little life. Or for those of you interested in my goofy obsessions but not our homeschooling. Whatever trips your trigger. However, I just discovered this will list every single post as new on bloglines. I realize suffering through my blog posts is hard enough without having to rehash my mindless blabberings for the last year or so. In any case, disregard all the "new" posts, as they aren't new at all.

Six Weird Things About Me...

Thanks to Bobbi for this meme. Everyone has their quirks right? I'm hoping mine aren't weird enough to drive away the few readers I have.

Six Weird Things About Me:

1. I cannot sleep without my hand on my neck. Not in a strangle-hold, but carefully curled under on the right side. Right up next to the tendons. I've tried to break this habit, but without my hand protecting my neck in this exact spot, I can drive myself to panic. I lay there with my eyes closed, noticing it's not covered until eventually the only part of my body I can feel is that spot. When we were first married, Vic joked about this a lot, saying I must have been beheaded in a previous life or something. Whatever it was, it happened in my sleep.

2. I love onions / I hate onions. I love the flavor of onions. The smell of onion rings makes my mouth water. My very favorite food smell is potato soup loaded with onions. But I will not eat onions. I don't like the way they crunch, even when they're cooked, and ever since 4th grade science class and our unit on parasites, I can't shake how much cooked onions resemble tapeworms. I buy lunchroom-sized cans of onion powder, and use it relentlessly in my cooking. I'm also quite picky about peppers, olives, and mushrooms, but for different reasons.

3. I have some serious texture issues. This is sort of related to the onion thing. I don't like vegetables that crunch when they're cooked, unless they're breaded and deep-fried. I don't eat tomatoes by themselves because they're slimy. I can't stand even the idea of fabric on my teeth. I won't eat anything that squeaks when you chew it, even a teeny tiny bit. The squeaking of styrofoam drives me over the edge, and I don't like to touch anything made from it; same goes for cardboard. There are lots of fabrics I won't wear simply because I don't like the way they feel on my skin. And I'm not talking "I don't like this, it's itchy." I'm talking, "Eww, this is tight and scratchy and.. get it off! Get it off!" I can't get it away from me fast enough. I have numerous other texture issues, I just can't remember them all right now. I'm sure I should see a therapist for this.

4. I only wash my hair once a week, sometimes longer. I'm including this not because I think it's weird, but because I'm sure a lot of other people will. My hair has always been incredibly dry, and after my second child was born it started falling out or breaking off by the handfuls. After several different anti-breakage shampoos and stuffy know-it-all hairdressers who apparently don't know it all, I decided on my own that frequent washing was damaging my hair. Now I only wash it when it's greasy or dirty. More in the summer, way less in the winter. And it no longer falls out like I'm on chemotherapy.

5. I love to narrate my cooking in a Julia Child voice. This started as a goof around thing with the kids, but sometimes I do it when they're not in the room. Sometimes when they're not even home.

6. I still imagine monsters in closets, dark hallways, and basements. I KNOW there are no real monsters, but imagination always wins. We don't have a basement, but I grew up with one. My grandmother has a basement and keeps all her kids' toys down there. When we're visiting, I'll go down to tell the kids we're leaving or call them up for dinner or something.. and I always run back up the stairs. I'm not getting exercise or saving time. The boogieman is at my back.

Wow, I could probably think of a lot more than six things, but I've probably said too much already. I'm supposed to tag 6 people, but since I barely know that many and I've already tagged a few with a meme the other day, I'll leave it up to whoever wants to play.

Good Morning!...

It's 2:45am. I'm apparently up for the day. I went to bed last night at 8:30 after almost falling asleep in the bathtub. My girls weren't even asleep yet when I crawled into bed. Vic woke me about 9 to ask if I was ok, since the idea of me going to bed before midnight is just plain ludicrous. I woke just after 2am with Chad sleeping at the foot of my bed like a collie. To avoid going into a mindless rant about this, let me just say this is an issue we have discussed a million times and is a source of great irritation. After sending him back to his room, I was unable to go back to sleep. I guess my body decided 5 hours of sleep was close enough to a whole night. So here I am.

Yesterday was a long day, which is probably why I was so exhausted. I woke to the telephone ringing and my mother in law on the other end telling me she'd be stopping by "in the afternoon." I hopped out of bed and started cleaning. What strange instinct drives this behavior? Why do I care more about the condition of my house with visitors I don't like than with visitors I do like? My mother in law hasn't cleaned her house in.. well maybe ever. There's a literal path through to various rooms in her house, and some rooms are completely inaccessible. Why should I care if my carpet hasn't been vacuumed or my counters not wiped down? Either way, there I was cleaning 45 minutes later when she called to say she was on her way. It was 10:30. So much for an afternoon visit, and so much for getting my house clean ahead of time.

Thankfully it was only a short visit, as always, and the kids didn't even drag her into their rooms to show off some new thing. When she left, we set about finishing the housework. The kids fought. The vacuum had to be fixed (again).Things were spilled and clothes were changed. Vic was having some kind of nervous episode I guess, because he constantly snapped at the kids and I constantly apologized for him. After about an hour of that I finally asked him, "What is wrong with you?" Turns out the car he's supposed to be fixing for my mom has some rusted bolts and he'd already had to cut off three. He mumbled something about an impact wrench and $50. Whatever.. I just want her car fixed and out of my driveway. We all ate peanut butter and jelly for lunch since we're all out of everything else.

After lunch, Chad started nagging to go to the dollar store. A couple days ago, he decorated his bedroom with a spare set of Christmas lights, and had been asking to go somewhere to get another set or two ever since. I finally caved and just as we started heading out the door, Cadence and Riley were begging to go too. I asked Vic to come along, just to help corral them around all the breakables. Even in a store where everything's a dollar, you can spend a lot of money paying for an entire display of wise men knocked to the floor. Turns out the cheapo lights at the dollar store only have a plug on one end, meaning all strings have to come from their own outlet. That might have still worked if the strings were longer than 5ft. We decided to try a different store.

File back out of the store, pile everybody in the car, break up a fight about who sits in the middle, and we're ready. Except the car won't start. After a brief once-over, Vic announced the fuel pump isn't working. Ugh. We just replaced the stupid fuel pump a couple months ago. It's still under warranty, but it doesn't help much to know that when I'll still be without a vehicle for a few days until it's fixed. I ended up walking up the street to a pay phone and called a ride. My car is still sitting outside the dollar store. I hope they don't tow it.

Considering how yesterday went, it's a good thing I'm up early today (although I'm not so sure I need to be up this early). I still have to figure out how we're getting my car home, and how I'm going to get to the store for some groceries. I've got a big pot of coffee brewing for brain fuel, and as soon as 8am comes around I'll be making phone calls. And that's only 5 hours away!

Wow a meme!...

I was tagged! I've never been tagged before. I feel all warm and squishy inside! Thanks to Bobbi at My Little Soapbox for passing it on. Here goes:

1. Explain what ended your last relationship? Umm.. I'm having a hard time remembering my last relationship (the last one that ended anyway). Vic and I broke up frequently and I dated 3 or 4 guys in the spaces in between. I think it was that geeky college kid, who dumped me because he thought I was taking the relationship too seriously. Joke was on him though, because I wasn't taking it seriously at all, and when he suggested that we "just be friends" I laughed out loud and told him I didn't like him enough to be friends with him, I was only hanging around for sex and free beer. And the sex was hardly worth it. That was an uncomfortable ride home, mostly for him. Mawhahaha.

2. When was the last time you shaved? Sometime around Mother's Day. I don't remember the reason, but after shaving bumps and dry scaly skin, I remembered why I hadn't before. I shave underarms every day or two though, otherwise I sweat a lot, and I don't care for that.

3. What were you doing this morning at 8 a.m.? Rushing around like a crazy person trying to get myself and three kids ready so we could take Vic to work and have the car today.. all while Vic stood around complaining about how long it was taking but not helping in the slightest to get anyone ready but himself.. even though he was already ready to leave and there was no reason he couldn't have helped out. Wanna guess what I was doing at 8:15? If you guessed having an argument, give yourself 10 points.

4. What were you doing 15 minutes ago? Reading blogs and eating pizza. Yelling for someone to please close the friggin door for the millionth time so we're not heating the entire outdoors (was that my mother just then?). Reminding Riley the presents don't get opened until Christmas.

5. Are you any good at math? What do you mean by "good"? I can do basic math in my head. I can make change. I understand enough to teach algebra and geometry. Higher math completely eludes me, and I occasionally have trouble multiplying 7's and 8's.

6. Your prom night? Which one? I went to prom as a sophomore with a junior boy. That was highly supervised and therefore, lame as hell. Junior year I went with Vic. He drove a huge green piece of crap van which broke down on the way. The dance was uneventful and I don't remember much of it. Senior year I went with a male friend. The dance sucked so we ditched early and drove around all night. Never a hotel room or a drunken afterparty or anything really interesting.

7. Have you had to take a loan out for school? Nope. I never did git no edyoocashun. My grandpappy didn't go to no fancy college and I didn't need to neither. Honestly, I have plans to go to college, just as soon as I figure out what I want to accomplish there.

8. Do you know the words to the song on your myspace profile? There is no song on my myspace profile. As a matter of fact, there has been no activity on my myspace profile for six months or more. It was fun for about five seconds, now I'm over it.

9. Last thing received in the mail: Some bills, some ads, and an invitation to a baby shower coming up on Saturday. I'm supposed to RSVP. Can we say "procrastinate"?

10. How many different beverages have you had today? 5: Coffee, tea, milk, water, cranberry juice.

11. Do you ever leave messages on people’s answering machine? No. I have left messages on voice mail at an office, but only after at least two tries to reach an actual person. Most of the people I call have caller I.D. anyway, so they know I've called even without a message.

12. Who did you lose your CONCERT virginity to? Promise not to laugh? Nelson. You know those twins with the super-long blonde hair who claimed to be making their way in the entertainment world on their own accord, despite Ricky Nelson being their dad, even though they opened every concert and interview mentioning who their parents were? Them. Some opening band called Tyketto, which was better than the headliner. I think I was 13.

13. Do you draw your name in the sand when you go to the beach? If I'm not in the water, I'm visiting the bathroom or chasing a child. I don't even notice the sand till the ride home when it's stuck in all the worst places.

14. What was the most painful dental procedure you have had? I just had a tooth pulled a couple of months ago. Not a wisdom tooth, but the next molar in on the bottom. I guess it was really stuck because the dentist spent like 20 minutes pulling pushing yanking while the tooth cracked and snapped and made all kinds of gross noises. I'd had 3 Novocaine shots because each time they came in the room I was still not numb. While the dentist was pulling the tooth, I complained of pain, but he insisted it was just "pressure." My jaw hurt for 3 weeks.

15. What is out your back door? Relatively normal-sized yard full of redneck stuff: kids' clubhouse, old falling-apart swingset, several lawn mowers in various stages of disrepair, trailer full of junk parts and broken things, etc.

16. Any plans for Friday night? If all goes well, I have no plans. If it doesn't, I'll be babysitting while my friend goes out to have a life.

17. Do you like what the ocean does to your hair? I'm terrified of the ocean and the one time I went, I didn't get in water above my chest.

18. Have you ever received one of those big tins of 3 different popcorns? Never received, but I've eaten from others' popcorn tins. The cheese is definitely the best.

19. Have you ever been to a planetarium? Not for a long time. I think I was a kid on a field trip the last time I went.

20. Do you re-use towels after you shower? Used for wiping clean water from my clean body? Duh, of course I do. Not that it matters much because bathroom towels are the first to grab when something gets spilled, so they get replaced every day anyway.

21. Some things you are excited about? The idea of getting a pt job. The Scholastic book fair this weekend. Paying off my car finally.

22. What is your favorite flavor of JELLO? Umm... orange? I don't really eat a lot of jello.

23. Describe your keychain(s)? A Miller Light keychain I got as a freebie at the bar on New Year's Eve about 4 years ago. A keepsake picture keychain of Chad from the company that did school pictures his last year of public school. A library card keychain thingy. A Progressive insurance card thing, and we haven't used that company for at least 3 years.

24. Where do you keep your change? In an old fountain soda keg in my bedroom.

25. What kind of winter coat do you own? I actually don't own a winter coat. My winter coat was retired 3 years ago, and I keep saying I need to get a new one but for some reason I never do. I wear a heavy jacket all winter, and on the really cold days I wear one of Vic's coats.

26. What was the weather like on your graduation day? I dropped out of high school. It was cold and snowing when I took my GED test though.

27. Do you sleep with the door to your room open or closed? It's always open, sleeping or not, unless we're doing "married people things." Our bedroom door is the only one in the house with a lock, and only because I'm paranoid that even though the kids have been asleep for hours, they might wake up. Otherwise, my bedroom is a common room.

28. Tag three people: Heads up Ave at School of Thought, Deanna at Growing Warriors, Gail at Life A La Carte. Tag. You're IT.

Kids are great...

Aren't kids just the most wonderful creatures in existence? I mean, sure there's the occasional stress, but overall they're just a hoot.

Thursday, the girls raced each other to the kitchen where I was making lunch to tattle on each other. Because Cadence was able to talk faster and get her side out first, Riley promptly turned and punched her in the mouth. I checked Cadence for injury and reminded them both that their issues could be worked out without my support. I released Cadence and turned to Riley for a chat about hitting. I had no more than gotten the words, "It's fine if you're angry but you may not punch people," out of my mouth when I heard Cadence's angry screams and the sounds of shuffling in Chad's room. Let's all just roll with laughter, shall we?

Yesterday, a still-unknown source started an argument between my oldest two in the livingroom. I popped my head in just in time to see Cadence take a swing at Chad's head. (I wonder where Riley has learned such behavior? hmmm) He deftly dodged the blow, and being mature enough to know hitting doesn't solve problems, wisely chose instead to shove his sister to the floor. This gave Cadence a nice angle to kick from, and while my son is apparently very good at dodging, I got a few good bruises in transferring Cadence to a quiet place where she could calm down. I'm still chuckling over the whole incident.

My son has become an avid joke-teller. Today his joke was, "HONK!" This was of course told loudly and punctuated with the poke of a finger, often on the buttocks of the person being told the joke. The girls laughed hysterically, but unfortunately I lack the proper sense of humor to appreciate such obvious comedic genius. I must be too simple-minded for my brain to grasp the joke, as I acquired a monstrous headache which became worse every time it was told. I'm sure, despite my failings, it was indeed a most excellent joke.

Tonight's bedtime ritual was the same as usual, with Cadence first in Riley's bed until their bickering drove her to her own. Riley swore she wouldn't bother Cadence anymore, but I interrupted to tell her that this nonsense had gone on long enough and they both needed their sleep. Riley angrily interrupted me right back with, "Mama, I'm talking to you, and you don't talk when I'm talking!" Brilliant at three, isn't she? Most parents don't have to deal with serious backtalking until their children are teenagers. But my Riley, she's advanced. One might even say she was a prodigy. Ahh.. I'm just so lucky. ;)

My super-cool secret pal...

Dear Denim Jumper Secret Pal, you are the greatest!

I got a package! Green Tea (which my children loathe, so I don't have to share woohoo), a very cute door hanger made of Christmasy-smelling leaf-shaped danglies (is that cloves? cinnamon?), and a bar of organic Chocolove.

I like chocolate, who doesn't? I opened the bar and started eating immediately, washing it down with my coffee. The kids wanted to try a piece, so I shared, but since it was dark chocolate they didn't ask for any more. I ate half the bar like a half-starved crocodile. Then it sat on the kitchen counter. I was busy cleaning and stuff, doing my daily routine, and every so often I'd break off a small piece of the chocolate on the way by.

I am so so sorry for wolfing down that first half. Savoring small pieces was the way to go. I've never had much chocolate besides the Hershey's variety sugar-laden stuff, so I didn't know any better. But this rich and bold, yet strangely delicate chocolate has shown me the error of my ways. I have recognized my sin and repent. Deliver us from Hershey's, for thine is the true flavor of chocolate.

I've been avoiding you...

I've been avoiding this blog for a couple of weeks. I do have good reasons. Mostly because I am participating in a winter secret pal gift swap over at TDJ and haven't wanted to give away any info that might link a gift, card or email to me. Then tonight I just remembered that I couldn't really say anything that would effect whether I'm discovered or not. Either she'll figure out it's me or she won't. So I have returned to blog my meaningless ramblings.

This last week or two, I have had so much fun picking gifts for my secret pal. I've spent well over the $15 minimum, but still feel like I don't have quite enough stuff to send to her. I hope she's happy with the few things I've chosen, but if you think it's hard buying for someone in your family, it's even harder buying for someone you don't know at all. I'm just not creative enough to envision someone's personality and choose The Perfect Gift for them, so am sticking to things that she said she likes. I'm sure she'll like it, but I really wanted her to be overjoyed.

And I am waiting with uncontainable impatience for my own gift box to arrive. It's just like being a kid again, not knowing what you're going to get but knowing for sure it's going to be special. I can't even remember the last time I was given a real gift. My mom buys me Christmas and birthday presents, but usually it's something I've been bitching about not having for months, or something completely practical like a jacket or something. When Vic and I exchange gifts, it's usually something practical, and almost always something that really benefits both of us. Even when he bought me the sewing machine, it was still with a promise that he would have mended shirts, soft new bathrobes and lounge pants tailored to fit perfectly. The box I have coming now is filled with things picked specifically for me, based on what someone thinks I will like. Just because. Just for me. Oh I just can't wait!

Must.. stop.. knitting...

I've been knitting like crazy for a week. I started a stocking hat for Riley with Caron Bliss in snow white. I'm working on a sweater for Chad with Bernat Soft Boucle in moss (my mom says this is too girly for him, but he'll love it). They're not fancy yarns but about the best I can afford. And the Caron Bliss is soooo soft and fuzzy! I'm doing some practice-knits for scarves for the girls, toying with different edging.

I'm crocheting a stuffed animal for Chad and an afghan for a friend's baby.

I'm sewing pink nightgowns for the girls and new traditional pajamas for Chad, which will be his first pair. He's been sleeping in the tight-fitting knit pajamas or thermal tops and bottoms since he was too big for footie jammies. Actually, he'd still be sleeping in those except he's grown too tall for his 10's and is not nearly big enough around for 12's. So.. I sew. I'm also making a sleeper, a fleece wintersuit and edging a baby blanket for the aforementioned baby (he's very preemie, so I know his parents will have a hard time dressing the little guy). I was working on a skirt, blouse, and alterations on half a dozen other things for myself, but have put that off till I'm done with my other projects. I'm hoping for sometime next spring.

I keep sneaking away to knit just two more rows on the hat for Riley. Just two rows, knit a row then purl one. That's all. It's going on 3am and I'm only sort of tired. I just keep thinking of all I have to accomplish before Christmas. Then again, if I keep this up I may be in a loony bin by then.

But oh.. I'd have all the time in the world to knit then wouldn't I?

Dodgeball Rocks!...

I know there are a lot of recent public school banning s of dangerous activities (like tag???). I've heard a few comments about dodgeball being a source of segregation and an excuse for the bigger and more popular kids to pick on the smaller, less popular kids. I agree with all that. But remembering dodgeball always makes me smile.

It was raining outside, so we had an "inside day" for gym class. We had large gym classes with 75-90 students. There was a male coach and a female coach, so the locker rooms could be supervised and the class didn't become completely out of control. Of course, the female coach never left her office in the locker room and lots of nasty things happened in there all the time, but I'm sure their intentions were good, right? On inside days, the gym was divided into two parts with a huge curtain hanging from the ceiling, with different activities going on in each area. On this particular day, our choices were volleyball and dodgeball.

All the girls in the class went to the volleyball side, by "choice" of course, where the female coach was managing games. I hated volleyball, so I went to the dodgeball side. To tell the truth, I assumed there would be at least a few girls over there and may have stayed and played sucky volleyball had I known I would be alone with all those jerks. After you cross the curtain, though, you're stuck. And I'd already been spotted by the -slightly amused- coach. The fact that he found humor in me choosing to play dodgeball irritated me. I was not a particularly athletic person, but I was healthy and not afraid to break a nail or mess up my hair by running or jumping.

The coach started dividing people into two teams. He nobly announced that he would do the picking, so nobody had hurt feelings by being picked last. He then proceeded to pick his favorites first, those boys who played football, the wrestlers, etc. I was one of the last 3 to be picked off and the numbers were uneven, so he decided to stick an extra person on my team, saying, "I'll give you guys the odd man out, since you have a girl on your team." I guess I was having a bad day, because I went off on the coach. I yelled right in his face, "How dare you assume I can't play as well as these losers?" I told him I could throw and catch a ball just as good as any boy and could probably dodge better. I don't really remember everything I said in that brief bitchfest, but I ended it with, "You sexist asshole!"

The wrestlers and football players, who answered to this same coach during their sport season, stood in shock. The coach regained his composure and replaced his own shocked look with the former smug amusement. "Well," he said, chuckling, "We'll just see." I never tried so hard at anything in gym class more than that game. We stomped them. I wasn't the last one standing or anything, but I was one of the last five on my team, and we won. I was sweating and beaming with triumph and flashed the coach an "I told you so" look on my way to the showers.

I used to say that I earned the coach's respect that day, since he was nice to me from that point on. He said hello in the halls. He never questioned anything I did in gym class again, even when I opted for weightlifting over the giggly, girly cliquefest that the female coach called aerobics. The truth is, he fell back on the common defense of Shut Up And She Won't Bitch Anymore. It didn't matter though, because that event was a turning point for me in high school. I surprised myself by standing up to an authority, and found it was a whole lot easier to stand up to other students. Who knows what would have happened if I never found my voice.

Maybe I wouldn't be homeschooling now.

Homeschooling has taken over my home...

I'm always checking freecycle for stuff I might want. Nothing I need to have, really, but people give away all kinds of stuff and why not at least look if I end up finding something I could use, right? Tonight I saw a post offering 2nd and 3rd grade teaching materials, and just as I was composing the email to this woman about how happy I would be to take them off her hands, I realized I don't have any room to store one more book in my home.

About a year ago, Vic built me a bookshelf to keep all the "homeschool stuff." I had so much fun loading the shelves and rearranging things. First based on what I didn't want Riley to touch, then as she got older, based on grade level per shelf, then subject matter. Since then, the bookshelf has become overloaded. Things are stacked on top of the bookshelf. Things are stacked in front. Books and games have taken over the kids' computer desk nextdoor to the bookshelf. Stacks and piles of books, papers to be checked, teachers references, and worksheets all over my own computer desk across the room. Reference materials in the kitchen. Letter blocks and various manipulatives on the shelves in the laundry room. I just bought 4 new workbooks and some flash cards last night. Homeschooling is everywhere. When the hell did this happen? Last year I was content with a bookshelf.

I live in a tiny little house, much too small for my Family O' Five in the first place, and space is always an issue. I have no decent place to sew, so my sewing desk is squeezed into a corner in my bedroom, leaving only enough space for me to sit between it and the bed. My crochet/knitting stuff used to be in a wrapping paper box next to the couch, but has since spread to the top of said box, and the top and underneath the end table near it. The computer I'm rebuilding is sitting in the entryway waiting for someone to trip over it and break something - either the computer or something on their own bodies. And Vic whines that he needs a garage because he doesn't have room for his hobbies in his 12x10 shed. Ha!!

I keep saying I need to organize stuff, and that's part of the problem. I'm not sure how somone so fixated on doing things just so can be so lazy and disorganized about everything, but I am. Beyond organizing, though, I think I just need to stop collecting stuff! I just find it so hard to resist a good deal on yarn, fabric, or homeschooling supplies. I will use it all... uh.. at least I think I will. Well I could, in theory...

Is there a support group for control freaks??...

There was a fantastic thread over at The Denim Jumper about the contradictory situation with unschooling while you yourself area a control freak. I need help. I have serious control issues. People are usually not control freaks all their lives, but instead become that way over time. Usually the need for control stems from some kind of insecurity. In my case, I think I was always this way.

I cannot honestly remember a time in my life when I wasn't allowed to do what I wanted. Don't get me wrong, we were poor and I was told "no" several times when it came to the purchase of silly things I didn't really need. But I was an only child. I was the first in the Wave of Grandchildren in my family. I don't know how it happened that I was the favorite among older family members since I was rather hyperactive and a very homely child, but I certainly was the favorite just the same. Being the oldest cousin at family gatherings (and those gatherings were numerous), I was the Leader of the Band. In other words, if I really wanted something and there was no critical reason I shouldn't have it, it was mine.

Now that I'm a grownup, I find my desire to have my own way getting between me and my family, and even screwing up plans for other things I want. I want my kids' learning to be self-directed. I want to be a fascilitator and not a teacher.

Tonight I brought out all the books I got at the library today to let the kids dig through them. They were excited about the "Poop" book, but rather than just let them look at it, I had to read it to them - in my painfully monotone reading voice. Cadence was soon bored and Chad was only half-listening. We put it away and I backed off (a very deliberate action by the way). I had picked up 5 Get Ready, Get Set, Read books - 3 with different letter groups (-an, -ip, -ub) and two with stories that brought all those sounds together. I went off to start dinner and when I came back in I found Cadence reading one of the bring-it-together books and Chad helping her with the harder words. Instead of being delighted at Chad's willingness to help his sister, or being satisfied that Cadence was learning by reading more challenging stuff, I freaked out.

"You have to read these books first," I told her, handing her the letter group books. "These two are for after you've had practice with the others." I took the other books away from her and put them away. They're special books, you know. I didn't realize my mistake then. I didn't realize it when I saw her disappointed face as she started to read The Tan Can that she'd already read once this evening. I didn't even realize it five minutes later when she got bored with reading and went to play in her room. It wasn't until long after when I noticed The Tan Can stuck with the other early readers back in the library bag, where I like to keep books until we're "ready" to read them.

Holy Hell.. I am so stupid sometimes. I need to get some control of myself instead of trying to control everyone else. I need to learn to let my kids learn for crying out loud and stop trying to make them learn. So starting tomorrow morning I'm hanging a special shelf for library books (so I can be satisfied they're staying seperate and will make it back to the library together) out in the open and let them pick whatever book they want. I may even head up to the hardware store to get supplies for a facing-out shelf so they're more visible. I hereby swear to pacify my control needs with choosing books I think they should read (based on our current units or whatever), but letting them read the damn things on their own. I will let them start when they're ready and stop when they're finished.

Baby steps. If I get this part down I might be able to let them put food on their own plates. Man, this condition is just looking worse and worse all the time.

A very quiet Saturday...

The kids spent the night with Grandma last night and I haven't gone to get them from her house yet. Vic is working today. I had to give him a ride to work by 8:30 which kind of spoiled my ideas of sleeping in without the kids here, but I had things to do anyway.

One of those things was the library. We were supposed to return all the books on Tuesday, followed by a well-thought out study list here on my blog, but with all the chaos this week that just didn't happen. I had planned to take the kids with me to the library today, but that was before the whole overnight at Grandma's thing came up. So I went alone. And it was wonderful.

I can't remember the last time I went to the library without the kids. It was quiet. I didn't have to tell anyone to stop running, or remember their inside voices, or please don't take all the books out of that shelf. I didn't have to apologize to any strangers. My kids aren't unruly, they're just excited to be at the library and go around behaving like.. well, excited children. I actually looked at books. I read the synopses. I browsed in the adult fiction section. It was so much fun I could hardly contain myself. I was probably there for an hour, all by myself. So, while the kids weren't there to choose their own books, I think I found quite a few they will enjoy, as well as a couple to be used with our learning this next week.

For our early human studies:
Usborne Starting Point History : Who Were the First People?
When Mamoths Walked the Earth - Caroline Arnold
(We'll have to get some more, but I can find them on Tuesday while the kids pick a few books of their own.)

For Chad, independent reading:
The Borrowers - Mary Norton
Abel's Island - William Steig

Early readers, fun stuff, read-alouds, and picture books:
Get Ready, Get Set, Read set 2
The Bear's Toothache - David McPhail
"Not Now!" Said the Cow - Joanne Oppenheim
Readers Digest Anthology : The World's Best Fairy Tales
Encyclopedia Brown's Book of Wacky Animals - Donald J. Sobol
Poop: A Natural History of the Unmentionable - Nicola Davies (I can't wait till the kids see this one!)

For me:
The Dark Tower I : The Gunslinger - Stephen King (I've actually read the 3rd of this series, but not any of the others, so I figured it was about time I read the whole thing.)
Of Human Bondage - W. Somerset Maugham

I enjoyed my solo library trip so much I think I will have to do it more often, once or twice a month maybe. It's not often I get to pick a book for myself without just grabbing the closest one and saying, "Let's go." I'm now enjoying my computer time without any noise at all in the house, and am pretty reluctant to get off here and go pick up my kids. Call it a vacation. Even for an hour.

Holy Crap!...

So I was wandering around like a crazy person this morning getting ready to go to this funeral. It was way too cold for a skirt or dress of any kind (not that I own many of those anyway), so I'd decided to just to jeans and a nice sweater. Unfortunately, I didn't have a nice sweater, and neither did any of my kids. So we piled everyone in the car and headed to the store.

Remember that friend of Vic's whose wife was in the hospital in pre-term labor? For the sake of clarity here, I will call the friend S and his wife J. Well, S's mom just happens to work at the Walmart near our house, and just happened to be running the register we just happened to go through on checkout. She asked if we'd talked to S today and I said no and asked how J was doing. She said, "Well, they did an ultrasound this morning. The baby passed. They're waiting for the doctor to get there so they can decide what the plan for delivery will be.."

I didn't hear anything else. I walked out of the store in a fog and sat silently halfway home. Finally, Vic asked me what the heck was wrong with me and I just completely lost it. Choking back angry tears, I went off about how they should have delivered that baby when she first went into labor, even though she was a bit early. They should have known the risks involved with stopping labor for days after the water broke. And why the hell weren't they using some kind of internal monitor or something so they could detect distress and deliver the baby right away. At this comment, Vic said, "What the hell are you talking about?!?"

Apparently, S's mom was talking about the baby passed the test. The test I didn't know about because Vic was the last one to talk to S when this 8-point test was discussed. They just did the ultrasound to check the baby's lungs, weight, etc.. and the baby passed the test. Needless to say, I spent the rest of morning and afternoon stewing of the tactlessness of S's mother saying (I swear in a sad, disappointed tone) that, "the baby passed."

J and S had a very small but otherwise healthy baby boy at 5 this evening, by cesarean. He's 4 pounds, 13 ounces but breathing well and holding his temperature. As long as he has no feeding troubles, they expect him to go home in a week or so.

Really missing that digital camera tonight...

I'd love to post pictures of the kids in their cute costumes for Trick or Treating, but alas, I still have no digital camera. It's possible I can scan the actual photographs when I get them developed, but that's just not the same thing. I'm so desperate, I'm considering getting one of those Fisher Price kid's cameras. Those are even a bit too expesive to justify right now. Until that fateful day, I'll just have to tell you about it.

Chad went as a wizard. He already had a cape and staff, so last night I bought some black poster board to make a hat, glitter glue to decorate, and a 3ft gray wig. Sometime this morning I got a brilliant idea to cut 1ft from the wig to make a beard. I used a small piece of fabric with ties, and hot-glued the hair all over it. Made quite a mess, but it turned out nicely.

Cadence was a tooth fairy, not just a fairy but a tooth fairy. I cut two tooth-shaped pieces of white poster board and stapled them to either side of a dress-up purse she already had, then wrote "Tooth Pouch" in glitter and lots of pretty sparkly decorations all over it. She already had fairy wings and a crown she just got as a birthday gift, and she wore a purple sundress over her purple sweatsuit which pulled the whole thing together well.

Riley was a ballerina in one of my old dance costumes. The one she picked was the costume I wore my first year of dance when I was four, so it fit perfectly. Pink leotard with lots of gold sequins and a frilly pink tutu. She wore long johns underneath, the legs covered in tights. She was about the cutest thing on the planet, if I do say so myself.

Unfortunately, it was a disastrous night with huge wind gusts and rapidly dropping temperatures. (Welcome to Iowa, hope you have air conditioning and arctic outerwear, just in case.) We froze our butts off for the first few minutes before deciding to keep the car running and driving along the road as they went from house to house. Vic and I took turns escorting them, and the kids took warm-up breaks in the car often. Riley probably only went to every other house. They had a fantastic time though, which was the point.

On the way home, Riley's sleepy voice came from the back seat, "That was fun, Mama. Let's do that again sometime."

This has been a REALLY rough day...

The original plan today was Vic going to his friend's place to help with plumbing while I went to visit my grandma. After several failed attempts to get ahold of my grandma (they were probably at church), Vic's friend called to say his wife was in the hospital in pre-term labor. This friend's wife is a very nice woman, and although I wouldn't really consider her my friend, we get along very nicely when the Men are together doing Men things. Her due date was set for December 24th, but I guess they changed it at the hospital to the middle of December somewhere. Although her water broke, they're going to try to hold her off for a few more days until she reaches the 34wk mark. I'm concerned for her, and worried all day about it.

While getting my kids together to (finally) head to Grandma's my cousin called to tell me her grandma died sometime early this morning. While not related by blood, I spent many many nights in her home when I was a kid. I spent many summer days on her boat on the lake. I know every inch of her home and yard. I'm very sad to hear about her death, and I feel really bad for my cousin too.

This afternoon on the way home from Grandma's, I stopped by my older friend's house to visit and got some more sad news. A woman I ran around with in high school lost her 2-1/2 year old son last Wednesday. The funeral was yesterday and I didn't even know about it. She is no longer one of my friends, but we remain familiar enough acquaintances that I feel completely horrible to have missed the funeral.

I just got back from a late-night trip to Walmart for a sympathy card, some puzzle books to take to Vic's friend's wife when I visit her in the hospital, and a pair of pantyhose and a new blouse to wear to my cousin's grandmother's funeral on Wednesday. Ugh ugh and ugh.