Mommy, I want to see a da Vinci!

Our final day in Washington was cold, rainy, and windy, the perfect day to spend inside a museum looking at paintings of warm, sunny Italy and France. Luckily I had packed sweatshirts for everyone and with umbrella in hand, we headed back down toward the Capitol and the Mall. As I made sure none of my charges were lagging behind I noticed swarms of teens walking briskly or waiting in line to go into the Supreme Court. Many of the girls were wearing summer attire such as short sleeved thin tops and short skirts with heels. They didn't quite sport the diva look since their skin was slightly blue and their arms were wrapped around their bodies. "Teaching moment guys," I announced when we were out of hearing, "Always pack appropriately for the season and wear comfortable shoes when going to a city where you walk everywhere."

Once inside the National Gallery of Art we wandered around the second floor looking at beautiful religious art and often stumbling across paintings the kids recognized from Sister Wendy's Story of Painting video series. The evening before we had read about several of the more famous paintings in a library book on the Smithsonian. The painting I had starred on my list was the only Leonardo da Vinci painting currently in the Western Hemisphere. Ginevra de' Benci, a gentle and intelligent girl sat for this portrait when she was 16 and about to be married. The painting is displayed in the center of the gallery so both the front and the back can be seen. The image on the reverse was painted several years later and uses symbols to describe the personality of Ginevra.

After a few hours which seemed to fly by the younger children were clamoring for a snack and drink so we had to wave farewell to Monet's Woman with a Parasol, Renoir's Girl with a Watering Can, Degas' dancers, and many other new friends. I am sure there will be many more trips back to the West Wing of the National Gallery and perhaps a swing through the more modern paintings in the East Wing.

Back up the hill to the Capitol for one last time, I made Maggie and Charlie jump out of the double stroller so I could push it those last few yards. We arrived back at the house to make the beds, finish packing the van, and have a quick lunch. Since I made a wrong turn trying to get back to 395 we accidentally swung around the Mall one last time and finally pulled onto the interstate, leaving the hustle and bustle of DC behind us. Only after stopping at the rest stop in North Carolina did I notice that Maggie has swiped several house keys while I was packing the van. Not the worst thing in the world and easily remedied with a mailer from the post office and a few stamps. We swung into the driveway at 6pm weary, hungry, and grubby, but grateful for the opportunity to see a few of our nation's treasures and monuments.

off to the moon!

"Up, up! Time to go!" Will called to us all at 7am Wednesday morning. The day he had been waiting for was at hand. However, the doors of the National Air and Space Museum didn't open until 10am so I had to slow everyone down so we would not get to the doors before even the museum employees arrived.

After 2 hours of looking at such famous artifacts like the rickety plane flown by Orville Wright, Amelia Earhart's tiny red plane she flew across the Atlantic, and the LM prototype shown here, the kids started pestering me for their promised "astronaut ice cream."
Actually, Maggie had been asking in a plaintive voice since we walked in the door, but I told her if she asked again I was going to eat hers. I figured that I would indulge them in such a treat once as children, especially since I had to shell out $16 for a 5 bag pack of what I thought was going to all be packets of cookies and cream. However, I found as I passed them out that it was a mix including Neapolitan and freeze dried strawberries. When Mary, who clamored for the pink package, tasted one strawberry she started to cry. I first gave them to Timmy, but when he decided that he didn't like them either, all the kids generously gave pieces of their ice cream to him.

As on the previous two days, we made it all the way to the Capitol reflecting pool before Charlie announced, "I have to go potty!" Perhaps it was seeing all that water, but after the first pant wetting incident on Monday, I put him back in nappies. This day I told him yet again, "There is no bathroom within 4 blocks and no place you can just pull down your pants. You can go in your nappie or hold it until we get back to the house."

After another afternoon of playing UNO, naps, and reading stories, we had had one house disaster. My cousin's house is just like most of my relative's homes - filled with exquisite antiques and breakables. I warned the children many times during our trip not to damage anything, but just when I thought everything was going to emerge unscathed, disaster struck. While I was sitting in the next room bathing the little boys Maggie found a ball point pen and drew several circles in the finish of a blanket chest. I scrubbed with some brownish oil, pledge, and wax, but to no avail. To say that I was livid and mortified was a gross understatement. I trundled everyone into bed early and prayed that my relatives would understand and allow me to pay for Maggie's misdeed. After the tongue-lashing she received, I figured it would be quite a while before she did such a thing again. Little did I know that I only had to wait until the next day for another episode of childish foolishness that got her mother riled up.

Tomorrow's itinerary? The National Gallery of Art, packing, cleaning up, and the long drive home.

Carnival of Homeschooling

Is up at Phat Mommy.

lions and tigers and bears, oh my!

What a beautiful day! The cherry trees were unfurling as we pushed the stroller all the way down to the Washington Monument hoping to be able to ride the elevator to see through the tiny windows at the top. But alas, the guidebook didn't mention that these days you have to obtain timed tickets which are distributed beginning at 8:30am and by the time we arrived at 9:10 they were all gone for the day. I knew that we would have to be out of the house the next morning at 7am to have a chance so wisely I gave up that idea and told the kids, "Another time perhaps."

We headed back up to our next stop, the Natural History Museum and after waiting with the hoards of other folks eager for dinosaurs and gems I carried the double stroller with Timmy seated inside like a rajah all the way up the marble steps to the entrance. Whew, my poor back! While the majority of folks turned right toward the fossils, our crew headed left to see all the impressive animals that have been preserved. An elephant, lions, a huge bison, kangaroos, as well as this pretty scene of a nursing fawn were among the creatures we could see up close.

After a quick trip to the potty we went up the one ramp to the dinosaur and fossil exhibits and marveled at the effort required to reconstruct the bones of these enormous creatures. The kids were fascinated over how large many of these prehistoric creatures were, the mastodons and mammoths, the huge early armadillo, and these turtles. By now the masses of schoolgroups had arrived at the museum and I had to swim upstream to get back to that lone ramp to leave the exhibit. It took all my willpower not to start ramming people with the front of the stroller as it took me longer to navigate the 15 feet to the entrance as it did to see the entire gallery of fossils. "Excuse me, pardon me. Please let me through." It took me right back to Italy where I was always the last on every flight because people would see an opportunity to slip in right in front of the stroller.

Finally we headed upstairs to see the Hope Diamond and other gems, but when I saw the 6 deep crowd around the glass I gave up. Will and Mary insisted on wiggling in and trying to take a photo of the exquisitely crafted gem. Perhaps Will's picture will come out, but with flashes constantly going off as well as his propensity to get too close to his subject to focus properly I doubt it. After a quick stop in the gift shop for postcards and a sugar crystal lollipop treat we headed outside and back to the house for lunch and naptime. The rest of the afternoon we read, played UNO, washed clothes, and relaxed. The few schoolbooks I brought stayed in the basket, and everyone was eager for bed and the much anticipated return to the Air and Space museum in the morning.

directions? keys? well, then off we go...

The kids and I packed the car on Sunday afternoon and, after brushing teeth and eating breakfast, left for our grand adventure Monday morning. We arrived in DC around 2pm, but drove around for 30 minutes trying to find a certain block of E street that was cut in half by the 395 on-ramp. After asking a police officer (they are everywhere, 2 per block) we finally parked the car, unloaded some suitcases and the children and proceeded to the front door. When I put the key in the lock nothing happened.

Nothing.

4.5 hours from home with 5 tired and cranky children and the key won't work. I looked down in shock at the return address on the envelope the key had been mailed in. A tiny spark in my brain reminded me that Grandmother had mentioned years before that my cousins had moved, but since my Christmas cards didn't come back I forgot about it.

Until now.

After pulling out the map, I realized that their house was only about 6 blocks away and shoved them all back into car seats for the short trip behind the Capitol. I prayed for a parking space and behold, one appeared right across from their house, the only one big enough for my van that I saw for the next 3 days. That sucker wasn't gonna move until Thursday afternoon.

After finding that the key did work (thank you cousins for writing the return address) we proceeded to unload all the gear needed for 6 people for 3 days and it was a lot. Pack-n-play, clothes, every stuffed animal and doll they owned, backpacks, and of course their Easter baskets filled with plastic eggs and candy. I figured out where everyone was going to sleep and decided it was a too lovely day to waste inside.
We made the first of our 4 trips down the hill inhaling deeply the fragrant cherry blossoms that were just starting to open and went in the National Air and Space Museum for an hour. We oohed and aahed over the LEM, the planes hanging from the ceiling, and all touched the moon rock. I promised them we would come back and I would buy them astronaut ice cream. Of course there was the typical nappie crisis with Charlie wetting his pants (his first accident in a long time) we hoofed the 8 blocks back to the house. I tried to stay up reading, but soon crashed from the long drive, my initial panic at the first house, and having to push the double stroller back up Capitol Hill. Tuesday's plan: Washington Monument and the Natural History Museum with the inevitable fun and crises.

Day 2: lions tigers and bears, oh my!
Day 3: off to the moon!
Day 4: Mommy, I want to see a da Vinci!

Happy Easter!

I hope all of you have a wonderful Easter, filled with joy and gratitude, chocolate bunnies, and time with family.

Our Easter flower bouquet from the discount floral bin at Kroger. I even had to buy a bigger glass vase to hold them all. I do hope Tim remembers to change the water while we are gone.

Have a good week and see you on Friday!

love my hair, hate my hair

I have had so many bad haircuts in the past 35 years that a few years back I just quit going.

There was the time I was 7 and the lady at the beauty parlor tried her best to give me a Dorothy Hamill cut- I looked so much like a boy that my mother had to have a t shirt made that read 100% GIRL. There were the bad spiral perm, the red hair dye that stuck and I gave myself swimmer's ear trying to wash it out, and still ended up with pink hair for prom. There was the short wedge that made me look like a female golfer and the $100 haircut that made me look exactly as I had when I walked in the door. Finally I just gave up and grew it out long with bangs.

But the one consistency has been the color: golden blond, a far, far cry from my natural medium mouse brown. Several times I have tried to grow it out or dye it back, but I missed the youthfulness and sparkle the blond brought out and gave up. No more. After reading the book Growing Gray, What I Learned about Beauty, Sex, Work, Motherhood, Authenticity, and Everything Else That Really Matters a few weeks ago, I finally decided to go natural and a little shorter. I'm still not subjecting myself to the whims of a salon, but armed with a pair of scissors I layered the sides, hacked off 2" and bought some new styling products. My roots are about 3" long with some highlights, but I can no longer stand the expense, the fakery, the time it takes to attempt to look like I'm 22 when it is become increasingly obvious that I am approaching 40. (40? Yuck!) My hair needs to grow up.

Cheer me on my journey of exploration and discovery, 'cause I haven't seen my natural hair color since 1986.

mothering style

Your type is: istj —The “Responsibility” Mother

“I have a serious love affair with to-do lists. I could sit for hours reading, organizing, and rearranging my weekly calendar.”

The ISTJ mother has a highly developed sense of responsibility: for work, home, family ... particularly her children. Whether she’s overseeing daily baths or insisting on a 10 p.m. curfew, her efforts are largely focused on providing her children with order and routine. She wants them, regardless of age, to be able to count on her and the structure she provides.

In carrying out her commitment to her responsibilities, the ISTJ mother is organized, industrious, and detail-oriented. Because her focus is the day-to-day realities of life, her children are likely to feel secure and well provided for.

The ISTJ mother also sets a good example and provides her children with practical guidance on being a productive, responsible individual. Still, with all her seriousness, she may delight family members with her quick wit and observations about the details of life.

This mothering style quiz was found courtesy of Jeanne at Books and Brownies, a fellow North Carolina homeschooling mom of soon-to-be 7.

So what is super-organized mom doing today? Picking up sippy cups and juice for the trip to DC on Monday and making a packing list. Don't want to forget anything!

Good Friday

For our sake he suffered, died, and was buried. God died that we sinners might live!

9 years ago...

Tim and I were standing in the little military chapel at the Capodichino base in Naples, Italy to be confirmed into the Roman Catholic Church. While we met in St John's Episcopal Church, were married there, and Will was baptized there 2 weeks before we left for Italy I am glad to now be home and no longer a heretic/outside the true church.

Since then we have learned much more about our faith, Tim so much so that his writings about various subjects pertaining to Catholic medical ethics have been published a dozen times in magazines and medical journals. I have not written anything as profound, but have memorized all those prayers I once thought weird and have taught them to the children. It is so precious to listen to Maggie blurt out the Act of Contrition each night before bed, a prayer I had to carry in my pocket the first dozen or so times I went to Confession.

I especially am grateful to the wonderful ladies from Catholic Women of the Chapel in Italy who showed me hospitality, gave me an enthusiasm for homeschooling, taught me how to pray the Rosary, and were such good friends and examples in my early days as a Catholic. May God bless each one and may God help each of us to encourage each other in our Faith.

putting organic veggies and the Pill in your basket?

Recently I have stopped buying my hormone-free milk at Whole Foods because I can now get it at Harris Teeter and besides the shorter drive, I can evade the stares and glares from the former's eco-extreme shoppers. "You are single-handedly overpopulating the planet," I can almost hear them saying.

When I see folks putting $4 a pound organic apples and $7 a pound free range chickens in their carts I wonder if they counteract all that by popping artificial birth control pills. And while reading Mother Earth News (just for the agriculture stuff) there is always some real life story about a couple living off the electrical grid, usually in a yurt (a big ugly round tent) and eating veggies they grew in compost made from their own waste (perhaps a slight exaggeration)and how this lifestyle is the most wholesome for Mother Earth, I wonder if they too put artificial chemicals in their bodies to stop their reproductive system from behaving naturally.

After all, the folks at the grocery nor the ones in the magazine seem to have any children. 'Cause we all have been fed the line that children are evil and the cause of all the problems in the world. If children didn't exist there would be no global warming, no acid rain, no suburban sprawl (well...), no crime, no cutting down of trees, no progress. Of course with no children there would be no humanity either, but that seems to be a slight oversight. So it pleases me to see some mention of how the hormones in ABC are dangerous to people and the environment. Maybe by reading this a seed of truth will be planted in those tree-hugger's minds...

Birth control pills, like batteries and baby bottles, have become the latest item in American homes to become a focus of environmental and health concerns. As scientists debate the effects of synthetic hormones that are flushed into waterways, the potential threat has sparked a clash between advocates and critics of the pill.

"I've heard a little bit about the bad things that birth control can do to the environment," said Casale, 26, who lives in New York City. "If it's causing major problems, I guess I would stop.

In 2003, a group of scientists in Washington state made headlines when they discovered that traces of synthetic estrogen in the state's rivers had reduced the fertility of male fish. Hormonal birth control pills and patches were blamed.

David Norris, a physiology professor at the University of Colorado ...said numerous reports show that estrogenic chemicals in water can result in thyroid problems and an adrenaline imbalance. Thyroid inhibitors are of major concern because they affect the nervous system's development and can cause permanent mental retardation. (link to article)

global warming or new ice age?

Here is North Carolina the forsythias, magnolias, crab apples, and daffodils are blooming. The air is warm and the kids spend every afternoon riding their bikes around the block. Up in Maine it is a different story. A friend says that this is the most snow he has seen in 60 years. Just look at the piles of snow piled up from the driveway plowing, it is as high as the truck cab! See the ominous sky? Forecast of more snow today.

homeschool carnival

This week's carnival is hosted by Taking Times for Things That Matter with a Dr. Seuss inspired Oh, The Things That You'll Do! theme.

if you gotta go, go!

Charlie is finally potty-trained and doesn't need any help from me (for the most part), but still calls, "I gotta go potty!" in a plaintive cry every few hours. Almost in unison, the rest of us holler back, "Then go!" Sometimes I add in a little snide comment, such as, "There is no line and you don't have to ask permission, this isn't public school." Charlie then toddles off to the potty and resumes playing until the urge hits again... "I gotta go!"

Taking a bathroom break in our school day doesn't take up much time since we only have 3 children and the bathroom is right next to the school room. The children just resume working when they come back, unless it is Will in there reading a Hardy Boys or Star Wars book, in which case I have to holler at him. One benefit of homeschooling I have pointed out to the children is that they don't have to ask permission to use the potty, unlike this child in Florida who was forced by his teacher to use a lunchbox in class as a urinal. I know how frustrating it can be to be interrupted 10 times each hour to be asked, not about something educational, but to be allowed to leave the room for water or the bathroom. I don't know what the solution is for the public schools, but am grateful once more that my kids have never had to ask permission or been denied access to the facilities.

which of these is not like the others?

Now that I am pretty much recovered from the 6 hours of driving and only 5 hours of sleep on a floor (I am getting too old for this sort of thing), it becomes apparent how unlike we homeschoolers are from most send-them-to-school moms. When we moved down here I wanted Mary to have the opportunity to make some friends her age and got her signed up with a Brownie troop at the local Catholic school. She goes every other Friday and seems to enjoy herself and certainly fits in well with the other girls. However, on this weekend's trip down to the aquarium I was grilled on why I would want to homeschool, 'cause they couldn't do that to their daughters who need social interaction and the academic excellence they get at XYZ Catholic school. I won't even go into the increased "isn't she a weirdo?" queries I got during supper when they asked me why we go to the Traditional Latin Mass.

Listening to their talk, it struck me how we are oddities, since most folks here are dual income professionals, associated with universities, and don't spend a lot of time with their kids, but spend huge amounts of money on their schools, their sports, their activities, and their wardrobes. There was also an underlying striving toward future materialistic goals for the children by pushing for superb test scores and admission to a fancy college that was almost frantic. For what? A prestigious job like mom and dad? A chance for their children to produce more suburbanite professionals just like themselves? Is that the end-all, be-all of life today? I feel much more at home among the hippies of Maine who understand our desire to be counter-cultural, even if it is from the opposite side of the political spectrum.

This weekend, even though I tried to keep a low profile, I still felt like an exhibit in the freak side show at the circus. "Come right up, folks! See the amazing mother of 5. Hear that? 5 children! She doesn't work, but stays in her jammies until 7am! She cooks, she cleans, she educates her own children! Give her a poke, she really is made of flesh and blood, just like you! The most amazing thing is she stays home and hasn't quite gone completely batty yet! But perhaps if you pester her enough, she might. Give it a go! See if you can send her to the loony bin! $5 a ticket, step this way!"

I am quite sure that when we move up to DC I will be able to find some other moms I can become friends with: moms who are open to life, who desire to find God's will in their lives, and want to spend great amounts of time with their children. I am looking forward to settling down for a nice cup of tea on the porch with a new friend, "Would you like one lump or two?"

busy, busy weekend

Saturday:

6:00am wake, shower, dress
7:00am drive to 5K race
8:30am run really fast, hopefully place in age group
1:30pm meet with other moms and Brownies in church parking lot
2:00pm drive to aquarium 3 hours away
6:00pm begin overnight with a dozen Brownies, sleeping on floor next to a huge tank with sharks

Sunday:
10:00am leave museum for drive back
12:00noon meet Tim and rest of family for Mass
2:00pm Will's Cub Scout meeting (he will be late)
3:00pm unpack car, bags, and try to recover, as well as make supper

See you Monday!

next quilting project

This is a crazy quilt which was given to me, as the only family member who sews, a few years ago after my great aunt's death. Grandmother remembers it being in the living room of the house when she was growing up. My guess is that it is about 100 years old, but I don't know what relative might have constructed it.

The poor thing has been neglected terribly with almost all the silk pieces split or shattered. I have pulled it out and taken it to the local shop to find matching fabrics. I only picked out 3-4 colors to applique so I can break up the project into smaller ones which should be simple to accomplish, "Look, I finished all the yellow patches." There are over a hundred small blocks that need to be repaired and it could take me months to get it done. The point though, is not to just fix it, but to focus on family, the past, and restoring beauty. I have enjoyed the past few evenings of quietly stitching and admiring the skill of a quilter in my family history.

Sister Wendy is a gem

The children and I just finished watching the 10 part BBC series The Story of Painting by Sister Wendy. We see the sweet, buck tooth nun in her traditional habit sweep through museums from Paris to New York, explaining and enlightening her viewers. She is delightful in her enthusiasm for the creativity and passion of dozens of painters, pulling in even the youngest of children to learn and desire to create their own art.

The kids were impressed by all the paintings until we got to the Modern era with cubism and surrealism, abstract expressionism, pop art, and minimalism. Charlie became bored and had to be put to bed, and the video was punctuated by, "Sorry Sister Wendy, I just don't get it." "That looks like splatter!" "I could do that!" Will summed it up by saying afterwards, "I liked all the pictures except those last ones, they were weird!"

I highly recommend this series (we found it at the library), but there are lots of nudes and mention of the technical term for bosom as well as describing the occupation of several of the models (think Elliot Spitzer's recent troubles). However, mixed in with all the unfamiliar artistic words I didn't think the kids even noticed.

what it means to be a little brother

I came home from running my 4 miles to find all the children outside with the babysitter in the beautiful spring weather. Then I noticed something strange, Charlie was riding the little blue bike with no training wheels. Will took it upon himself to remove said training wheels and teach his 3 year old brother to take off and ride around the house all by himself. At least everyone had the good sense to insist he wear his helmet.

Whoa! What happened to the parent teaching their tike to ride their trike? What is next, Mary reading to the little ones on the sofa? "Mommy I already read to them, you can stay on the computer." (ooops, that already has happened too)

This must stop! If you get to do the fun stuff, then you can take over the yucky stuff too, like changing nappies.

Well... at least I know I'm still needed for something.

a sigh of relief

This was in my in-box this morning from HSLDA:

State Superintendent of Public Instruction Jack O'Connell comes to the defense of homeschool families. "The California Department of Education policy will not change in any way as a result of this ruling. Parents still have the right to homeschool in this state," he said.

After the Court of Appeal for the Second Appellate District in Los Angeles ruled on February 28 that parents had to be credentialed teachers to educate their own children the statement from O'Connell is encouraging news for the homeschool community."O'Connell has it right," said Michael Farris, Chairman of HSLDA. "But the court decision must still be overturned before homeschool freedom can be restored in California."

The Court of Appeal ruling shocked the homeschool community because in one sweeping decision it effectively outlawed homeschooling."

We hope the statement from O'Connell puts the brakes on any enforcement action," said Farris. HSLDA will be pursuing several legal options, including seeking review by the California Supreme Court and petitioning the same court to depublish the opinion in order to return California to being a state where a family can legally homeschool in California without fear.

I had a sadistic thought during this whole crisis of giving a one-two punch to the whole idea that a teaching degree is somehow essential to teaching children by introducing legislation that requires every teacher, public, private, or home to take the National Teacher Exam for K-8 for free. Wouldn't it be interesting to see who scores the best, and who does the worst?

Now, I would never suggest this in real life, since you give these people an inch and they will twist it into a restriction on liberty, but it does make me grin. After all, homeschool parents are the ones in the trenches teaching children phonics, math, grammar, science, history, in depth and continuously from year to year. I didn't know anything about phonics when I took the NTE and did very well, imagine what I could do now after immersing myself in short and long vowels for 5 years?