lost on the mountain

No, we didn't go trooping through the woods, but the children and I took the opportunity to listen to Donn Fendler share his story of survival. 70 years ago Donn was on a hiking trip up Mt. Katahdin and lost the trail. This 12 year old was lost for 9 days, crediting his survival to his Boy Scout training and his Catholic faith. I happened to pick up the book earlier this summer at the library and was fascinated by this boy's courage and determination to live. The Cole Land Transportation Museum was packed with folks wanting to listen and shake his hand.



Unfortunately, I didn't anticipate such a large crowd and by the time we arrived it was standing room only. Then, by the time I bought a copy of the book, Lost on a Mountain in Maine, there were over 100 people standing in line to have them signed. I knew the children were not going to be able to wait, especially since Mary had no shoes on (don't ask) and they had already sat quietly for 90 minutes. Luckily the lady at the counter said we could leave the book with them and pick it up signed in a few days. I thought it very telling of this man's character that while he has never made a dime from the books describing his ordeal, he has taken time to speak to children, encouraging them to hike in the beautiful woods of Maine and how to prevent getting lost.

I am blessed...

because I have 6 happy healthy children who do care for one another. Quite often Timmy will hug one of his siblings and say in a syrupy way, "I love you." My husband appreciates my efforts and loves me beyond measure. We have friends and relations who support us and give us joy. We can afford both a new vacuum cleaner and schoolbooks during a pay period. I have the opportunity to live somewhere (at least part of the year) that is beautiful.

We are all blessed because we live at a time in history that offers the best standard of living man has ever known. We have running water, flush toilets, machines that let us instantly communicate with one another. We have medical advances that allow us to live longer and healthier lives. We have the opportunity to educate ourselves for free at our public libraries. We live in a country of freedom and opportunity.

Mary and I are in a contest (Will started a day late so he can never catch up) of who can finish the Lemony Snicket, A Series of Unfortunate Events series first. She has the advantage of being able to read in the car, but I can stay up much later than she can (plus I skim much of the text). I think reading these has made both of us grateful, she for not being an orphan who has murderous Count Olaf hounding her every step, and me for not being a parent burnt up in a fire. My problems are minuscule compared to the Baudelaire children and so very slight compared to any one of the 7 million Americans who have lost their job the past few years. Yes, I am blessed and I know it. (but if you call me nasty names in the comments because I complain about my problems they will be deleted)

speed learners

Starting with a pile of buckwheat pancakes (with a dash of ground flaxseed) we began school this morning at 8am and Will finished up a paragraph describing his Red Ryder BB gun at 1:30pm. Both girls wrote letters to their aunties for creative writing so we mailed off Will's writing, complete with a BB taped to the page for illustration, to his Daddy (who bought him the gun last year).

There might be something to this "early to bed, early to rise" school schedule, leading to making all the children wise, if not healthy and wealthy.

attitude adjustment

When we first started homeschooling 7 years ago, I only had to teach one child Kindergarten. While it took a little more effort because Will was sporting a cast on his left arm, it only took 20 minutes a day to finish the book work. The rest of the day was filled with reading stories, playing games, and trips to the grocery store. As the years progressed and we added more kids to our lives it took a little longer, then a little more, until we were beginning school at 8:30-9:00am and finishing right before lunch. Last year was the first time we needed to take a lunch break and start back up again. Almost 3 weeks into the academic year, I am realizing that our days of having every afternoon free to play are at an end.

5th and 6th grade are hard, Mary has 11 subjects to complete daily including 7 in language arts: English, reading, vocabulary, phonics, spelling, handwriting, and Latin. Tim keeps reminding me that starting in a few weeks their piano lessons begin again. Apparently the days of practicing for 30 minute are over, their teacher wants Will playing for 50 minutes a day. And, while I don't have the stress and anxiety (okay, sheer terror) of having my husband overseas in a war zone, Tim has informed me that his work load has increased to the point of not being able to leave before 6-7pm every night. (The folks in military medicine are among the few in our capital who earn every taxpayer dime they are paid).

I will be taking care of 6 small children, educating 4 of them, running them to activities, doing errands, and cleaning a large house all by myself for the next 2 years. At one time, these were the work of a large staff. What I wouldn't give to be living in Jane Austen's England with a cook, maids, errand boy, gardener, and a governess? Now it is all on one person: me. If I complain, Tim asks, "Do you want to hire a nanny?" knowing perfectly well that we can't afford to hire any help in DC and last year's babysitters were almost more work than they were worth.

What I can do is tackle this problem with a better attitude, knowing that homeschooling for the next few years is going to be harder than it ever has been, but the rewards will be great. If I buckle down and help the big kids learn routines and how to work more independently, then the high school years will be clear sailing. When I announced yesterday evening that the new routine will be breakfast at 7: 30 and begin work by 8 there was some grumbling, but the girls grabbed their books to get a head start.

carnival of homeschooling

Dewey's Treehouse is hosting this week's animal themed carnival.

book review

I have been reading up a storm this summer, with Tim down in Maryland I turn pages until my eyes won't stay open another minute. Novels, decorating picture books, political tomes, and anything to do with farm management or animal husbandry have been the favorites recently. I found a new library (it took a year to scout it out and 20 minutes of driving around downtown to find it) in Bangor. It is huge, likely due to the generosity of Steven and Tabitha King, and filled with more books than even I can read in my lifetime. The children's department takes up the whole bottom floor and is well stocked with current favorites Hardy Boys (Will) and Magic Treehouse (Maggie). Upstairs is non-fiction with an entire bookcase (8 shelves worth) of horse books for Mary. The only downside is that I have to race upstairs with the baby while Will and Mary watch everyone else so I can find something to read. This week while the kids were perusing the shelves, I got to chatting with another homeschooling mom, both of us gushing about raising kids in Maine.

Then I went home and read Momzillas by Jill Kargman and was doubly grateful that we will be escaping the competitive suburbs in a little less than 2 years. It "chronicles the lives of New York's ultra-rich and ultra-ambitious," in a funny and introspective way. While this homeschooling, thrift store shopping, rural advocate mama would sooner jump off the Tappan Zee Bridge than stick one toe in Manhattan's Mommy wars, it revealed some hysterical terminology that I had never heard before. The glossary helped me make sense of many terms, including MNJ (middle name junkie, mother who always calls her child by both their first and last names (and I thought it was just a Southern thing)) and Competitive Birther (racing to have more kids than anyone else (the example of this in the book had 6 kids under 6 and 3 nannies, man am I envying her the help)). I only wish that my Sperminator husband (guy with 4 or more kids) thinks that I am a Yummy Mummy (sexy, attractive mother). I recommend this one if you want reassurance that you are better off outside the competitive mommy circuit.

lords and ladies

Saturday morning found our little clan driving to Fort Knox, a granite citadel situated on the Penobscot River. I had clipped an article from the local paper proclaiming that this weekend the SCA (Society for Creative Anachronism) was putting on its 8th annual Medieval Faire and after comparing the entertainment alternatives (an antique car show or staying home), decided to attend.

Maggie surprised us all by her prowess at the cross bow.

Will and Mary were fascinated by the sword fighting.

Julia Ellen fell asleep listening to Old English drinking songs.

Of course the girls were entranced by the costumes and hounded me until I relented and said I would look into making them some costumes (they could double as All Saints garb) for next year's Faire. Yes, the displays of garb, herbs, and crafts were all very lovely, but the children's favorite thing to do was take their flashlights into the dark corners of the Fort and scare each other to death. I'm not so sure I got a lot of educational value for my $17, but they did all go to bed before 8pm, the worn out little buggers.

why....

am I awakened every morning at 6:07am by the little ones and have to poke and shake the big kids (who could actually be helpful) to climb out of their bunks before 8am? I know I shouldn't complain since Julia Ellen sleeps between 10-11 hours a night, but I have a feeling that in 2 years I'm going to have to wake my lazy crew with a cow bell to get them to do their farm chores.

think then post

Yes, I have heard umpteen times that emails can be easily misconstrued and feelings get hurt. Sarcasm doesn't read well on blog comments and typos can simply be that and not poor spelling. But then I blazed into the Seton Yahoo group board with 1 beer under my belt and misread some one's question and let her have it.

Like many homeschoolers, I take my children's education seriously and assume that others who teach their own do the same. I don't like slackers who show up on-line or on Oprah saying, "Well we homeschool, but our 14 year old can't quite read yet. Our 16 year old has never studied history or spelling. We just didn't get around to teaching our 11 year old any math. But we ARE homeschooling." Sorry, that is NOT homeschooling, but a plan for having your children live in your basement for the next 40 years because they can't function in society or be employable. So when a new homeschooling mom with a 7th and 8th grader described how they were sooo far behind and they were just finishing up the 1st quarter's work, I misunderstood and thought she had taken over a year to get 9 weeks worth of work completed. Then I proceeded to say some not nice things. Only after I hit "send" and go out for an evening stroll with the kids did I realize my error. She said they started school in March, not that they were supposed to finish this past March. (I guess if you are saying, "What's it to you? you would be right as well.)

I did get up early this morning and post an apology, not even reading the other comments for fear of flames. However, the damage has been done. I hope that I haven't killed her desire to share her problems and concerns in what is supposed to be a supportive environment. For homeschoolers need more kindness and assistance from each other since we are usually slogging it out in relative solitude. While the internet has been a wonderful thing in terms of finding like-minded souls, it is easy to be mean because the person we are writing is not sitting in front of us. So, I again say that I am sorry and promise to think twice before I post.

carnival of homeschooling

The Homespun Life is hosting this week's carnival with lots of great posts, even if they messed up on my link. I'm not so overwhelmed that I would put "barely controlled chaos" as the blog title!

the last weekend of summer

Saturday morning the kids woke bright and early and voted to go swimming at Knight's Pond, our favorite local swimming spot. Mary wanted to go to Craig's Pond with her bucket since hundreds of frogs make their home near the beach, but I didn't want to fight the crowds (think a few dozen people, not thousands, at say, Daytona Beach) and the 1/4 mile walk from the parking area. So off we troop with life jackets, inflatable boat and all, only to turn around when Will asked, "Did someone pack the pump?"

We didn't realize until we got settled on our blanket that we also forgot to pack towels and the air was a little nippy to say the least. But despite blue toes and shivering the children jumped and splashed, paddled and swam for over an hour.

What does the savy momma do with 5 cold and wet children? "Let's go into town and buy some new towels," I suggested, "We'll leave our stuff here and come back." Fortified with chili cheese hotdogs we returned to the pond (which saw a steady stream of kayackers, swimmers in wetsuits, and the tacky campers who had moved in for the weekend with 4 cars, bikes, an ATV, a paddle boat, and 5 tents) and didn't leave until it was time to head home for supper.

2nd anniversary

Today is the second anniversary of my mother's death from ovarian cancer. I had a Mass said for her yesterday (thank you Tim for taking care of it) at our parish in Maryland. I must call my grandmother and stepfather and share in our feelings of grief at losing the center of our family. Mother was the person that kept everyone connected. I often want to tell her what the children are up to, our plans of raising sheep (she was a master knitter), and the latest family gossip. I miss her fiercely.

September is National Ovarian Cancer Awareness Month and I urge you to aquaint yourselves and your mothers with the subtle symptoms of this disease.

If the following symptoms occur almost daily for more than two weeks, the Ovarian Cancer National Alliance advises that women see a gynecologist. These symptoms include:

• Bloating
• Pelvic or abdominal pain
• Difficulty eating or feeling full quickly
• Urinary symptoms (urgency or frequency)

There is no definitive test for ovarian cancer so experts suggest a combination of pelvic/rectal exam, a CA-125 blood test and a transvaginal ultrasound.

one dead dinosaur

Those kiddy placemats from restaurants are good for something...

a host of compliments

Every week I look through our weekly paper for cultural opportunities, but am not inclined to shell out $$ for tired plays, travel over an hour for children's shows, or shuffle around a bunch of wine-drinking snobs at gallery openings. Since we have been up in Maine we have visited the aviation museum, the Penobscot Indian museum, a classical music concert, and last night went to an organ concert.

St. John's Catholic Church in Bangor boasts of a 1860 pipe organ and a very talented organist. While the pieces selected were a little too Russian (think melancholic and depressed composers trapped on the steppes in winter), it was good to hear what a magnificent instrument play something more elevated than "Gather Us In," and it was good practice for the children to sit still and listen. They have had a lot of practice at this since we usually attend the Traditional Latin Mass which requires much sitting, standing, and kneeling while being silent.

I combined the trip with a visit to the city's library which boasts an impressive children's collection. We then hit Dysarts for supper with the promise (or bribe) that we would return for ice cream sundaes after the music if they were good. Two waitresses (one with her own brood of 5) said how well behaved the children were during the meal and another patron caught me on the way up to the cashier, saying, "I have to tell you how impressed I am by your children. They have been so good." With an hour to kill beforehand I spied a park near the church and gave them the chance to yell, roll down a hill, climb on the swingset, and wrestle. This free time might have been what saved us since it was already approaching bedtimes as we entered the sanctuary. Julia Ellen was the surprising "naughty" child, screwing up her face and threatening to let out a howl every few seconds during the first piece. She wouldn't nurse until I finally realized that the low and loud organ sounds were too much for her tiny ears. I moved over to the stairs leading to the basement and fed her almost to sleep. The little boys were squirmy as they could only be given the circumstances. During the last 15 minutes I took them downstairs and let them silently run around the parish hall. Afterwards we took a close up look at the organ itself and reaped a few more comments from attendees, all positive.

When we streamed back into the truck stop restaurant several of the ladies said, "They must have been good!" Julia Ellen slept soundly while we shoveled ice cream into our mouths, traded maraschino cherries, and gulped down cups of ice water. Another round of compliments followed us out the door and we decided to attempt this outing again next summer, with the promise of dessert for obedient little boys and girls.

carnival of homeschooling

Home Grown Mommy is hosting the carnival this week. Lots of posts of why different folks homeschool if you need a little psychological boost or fresh ideas.

barely controlled chaos

Well, we made it through 2 mornings of the school year and I am beginning to feel that I have lost my mind. Why? 4 children who constantly call,"Mommy I need help right now!" A baby who wants to be held non-stop. A growing pile of clean clothes spreading across my bedroom floor. 2 children who feel that the house should be perfectly silent until they finish their work and resent someone younger even coming inside for juice. No clean cups because they are all in the dishwasher. A toddler who tries to help by emptying his urine filled potty into the toilet, spilling all across the bathroom floor. A fridge full of food that no one but me will eat. Dishes coated with oatmeal goo piled next to the sink.

But the floor was swept and mopped yesterday and slowly all the children are attended to, the chores done, and everyone fed. Julia Ellen is sitting on my lap cooing, Timmy is napping, and everyone else is playing outside. The peace I have been searching for all morning is finally here.

At least for the next 30 seconds.

tomorrow is the big day

We officially begin the 2009-2010 school year at 9am. Luckily I pulled out all the books and stacked them on Friday because it was apparent that we were missing Charlie's and Mary's religion books.

Luckily I was able to just call Tim and he found them on the proper shelf, boxed them up, and mailed them early Saturday morning. This will be our 7th year of homeschooling and I am getting so excited about all the new things we will learn, adventures we will have, and time spent together. Some days will be good, some fair, and some downright awful but I wouldn't trade my job as a homeschooler for anything in the world.

a bit too competitive

This morning I woke at 6am, fed and washed Julia Ellen, showered, woke up the children and headed out the door at 7:30 for the last day of the Union Fair. One of the pedal tractor race prizes was a $190 Ford tractor and with 3 children eligible to compete, the chances of one of them winning this year were pretty good. Other activities scheduled for the day were children's games, the parade, and another free bike drawing.

Any normal person would have realized that it just wasn't a good day to drive over an hour on narrow back roads, but knowing that Maggie won her bike last year on the last day made me decide to press ahead. With temperatures in the 60's and a steady rain falling, the fair officals canceled everything, so we turned around and stopped for a hot breakfast. On the plus side we managed to get all our town errands taken care of on the way home. There will be plenty of years left for pedal tractor races, pig scrambles, and bike drawings and many more lazy afternoons filled with piano practice, mugs of hot cocoa, and playing I Spy on the computer.

call, call, call

A few weeks ago I called my Representative to ask when he was holding town hall meetings. His staff member said, "He is too busy to have a meeting." Today I called him and my Senators and I urge you to do the same. The more I hear about Obamacare, the more scared I get. Government bureaucrats having access to our tax returns, bank accounts, and medical records and then deciding if individual citizens get medical procedures. Abortion paid for by taxpayers. Death panels (Obama already said that Granny is to take a pain pill instead of getting a pacemaker. If you think that he will cover bone marrow transplants, treatments for folks with stage 3 or 4 cancer, or any other expensive medical procedure you are delusional) Rationed care will be the norm for everyone (if there is a limited supply of a "free" good or service then not everyone will be able to obtain it)

Reading published statements from Ezekiel Emanual (Obama's health care advisor) on how the deck would be stacked is chilling.

"However, other things are rarely equal—whether to save one 20-year-old, who might live another 60 years, if saved, or three 70-year-olds, who could only live for another 10 years each—is unclear." In fact, Dr. Emanuel makes a clear choice: "When implemented, the complete lives system produces a priority curve on which individuals aged roughly 15 and 40 years get the most substantial chance, whereas the youngest and oldest people get changes that are attenuated.

Dr. Emanuel concedes that his plan appears to discriminate against older people, but he explains: "Unlike allocation by sex or race, allocation by age is not invidious discrimination. . . . Treating 65 year olds differently because of stereotypes or falsehoods would be ageist; treating them differently because they have already had more life-years is not."

The youngest are also put at the back of the line: "Adolescents have received substantial education and parental care, investments that will be wasted without a complete life. Infants, by contrast, have not yet received these investments. . . . (thelancet.com, Jan. 31, 2009).

The time to fight this is now, not after the American people are subjected to the same horrors as the British have for years now. Every day another story comes out about old people not getting fed and washed while in hospitals, women giving birth in hallways for lack of beds, months long waits for cancer treatment, etc. I told the staff members how I think it is appalling that this is being pushed as a memorial to Teddy Kennedy when his own decisions were the exact opposite of what this bill pushes. He and his family made the decision to go to Duke when all the other surgeons said there was nothing that could be done. He fought to live, not go peacefully into that good night like any average 73 year old under Obamacare would be told.

For children, for the elderly, for ourselves I urge you to call and tell Congress, "No Obamacare. No rationing. I want to make medical decisions for myself and my family."

lots of helpers

Yesterday we headed down to the Union Fair so the kids could spin, chug, twirl, and fly to their heart's content. I knew that it could turn into a logistical nightmare at any time with 2 big kids, 2 medium sized kids, one toddler, and a baby. But, other than one brain fried dude, the Rockwell Amusement staff made it a pleasant and relaxing day for me.

On Sunday we inspected all the ride requirements so we knew ahead of time which ones each child could go on. My worry was the bumper cars as Maggie and Charlie were tall enough to ride with an adult, but not alone. What was I to do? Have Will or Mary sit with the 3 little ones for 10 minutes and wait while I went on the ride and then switch? But the guys let each child ride with a sibling and the same thing happened at the giant slide after I took Timmy down a few times. Timmy needed help getting on the carousel horse, but after I pointed to Julia Ellen one of the workers stood behind him in my place. Will and Mary were very generous in taking the little kids on so many rides, taking them to the potty, and independently buying bottles of cold water.

One worry homeschooling mothers have is raising children who can't function alone in public, after all they don't set off on the big yellow bus every day and have to navigate the halls of academia alone. Going to the fair and allowing a 2nd grader to ride the giant swing on the other end of the midway alone and giving a 5 year old permission to ride the bees by himself is good practice.

Yes, this non-helicopter parenting method did come back to bite me when Maggie didn't come back to the meeting spot, leaving us all searching for one short sprite in the aisles filled with flashing lights and ominous looking pierced and tattooed teens. But Will found her and we headed to the car with bags of cotton candy to munch. A few minutes after tucking the children into bed, I peeked in to see them all sound asleep and dreaming of fair rides, cotton candy, and another chance at the pig scramble next year.

carnival of homeschooling

Homeschool Bytes is hosting this week's carnival with "We've got style" theme.

what we've been up to...

watching out the window.

In addition to the horse riding lessons, swimming lessons, trip to the Fair, finding a coyote den while pruning, hoeing the garden, helping with the haying...

time to earn your keep

Yesterday was the first day of the Union Fair, which we have attended every year since Will was about 3. It is an old fashioned county event, complete with 4H displays, pie eating contests, tractor pulls, farm animals, and lots of fair food. We pick one day to buy bracelets for the kids to ride as many rides as they can stand ($19 this year) and participate in other activities like the free bike drawing.

This year we decided to sign Mary up for the pig scramble, unfortunately she wasn't picked, but it was still highly entertaining. I had never seen such a thing before, 10 kids with mesh sacks chased, grabbed, and jumped on 9 squealing piglets. The children who managed to capture a pig could either take them home or sell them to the burly guys who sidled up to each contestant, "Hey, I'll buy your pig for $25." The same animals can be found for sale in Uncle Henry's for $50-75, but any parent who doesn't want to transport a pig in the back of their sedan is happy to take the cash. Will's turn for the scramble is Wednesday, hopefully he will be picked to chase pigs and recoup the cost of taking him to the fair.

hurricane prep

I grew up in hurricane country and am used to preparing for a big blow. I recall Hurricane Gloria (1985) like it was yesterday, trying to sleep in the upstairs hallway, the only place in our cheap townhouse that had no windows, listening to the radio announcer describe the wind speed and the damage throughout the city. I hightailed it to my grandmother's house in 2001 during Hurricane Isabel with Will and Mary in tow, figuring that her house had withstood many storms in the past 175 years (and they had electricity). I even managed to get to class at Virginia Tech through Hurricane Hugo in 1989 and see the enormous devastation to the forests 300 miles inland.

But hurricanes in Maine? Not supposed to happen. But I do know what to do:

charge Coleman lanterns- check
bring in everything outside that could blow away- check
close all barn and garage doors- check
set up generator and practice plugging in and starting- check

roll up the windows in the van - uh-oh. Someone's going to be sitting on towels on the way to Mass and hoping the wet doesn't seep through to her skirt.

on my own again

Tim leaves tomorrow (in the midst of Hurricane Bill) for DC and will return in about 4 weeks. Yesterday I took advantage of the opportunity to hit my favorite used book store and get out of the house with only the 2 little ones in my care. After an hour Tim called on the cell, "Where are you? Why are Maggie and Charlie out in front of the garage alone?" 5 minutes later he called again to ask if the dishes in the dishwasher were clean. I gave up on a trip to the library with great Wi-Fi (I had more pictures for the farm chores post but they wouldn't load on dial-up at home) and headed back. Again the phone rang, but this time I had left my purse in the back seat and refused to stop the car to answer it.

Every time I have a hard day or a mini-crisis up in Maine he suggests that perhaps I shouldn't stay up here alone with 6 children, but he can't manage without me for 2 hours (at that with only 4 children)? Now to be fair, he did apologize profusely when I got home and he is very capable, even managing to meet me in town for the loan closing with the 4 little ones in tow.

I did find several Landmark Books I couldn't live without, but I managed to not succumb to the desire to purchase the very rare #120 Medical Corps Heroes of World War II, priced at $125.

farm chores

This summer was almost the summer that wasn't. It rained every other day for much of June and July and has finally been hot enough to hay the fields. One of the neighbors down the road came the other day to mow and yesterday Will and Mary helped stack the bales on the wagon. Now the front field is clean and the rest of the baling should be finished today ahead of the hurricane coming up the coast.

My garden was finally dry enough to till, too late to plant anything that we could eat, but we planted some seeds from the discount bin at the hardware store so the kids could get the general idea of where their food comes from (well, not their food since they don't eat veggies, but normal people's food).

I hauled a few loads of horse manure from the pile at the dump (excuse me, transfer station) and together with lots of spare hay I made an enormous compost pile. The kids have gotten into the habit of not complaining too loudly when I ask them to dump the scrap bucket I keep in the kitchen.

The last project I have been working on is going out in the early morning with the pole saw and hacking back branches that overhang the fields. I realized during my tractor driving lessons this week that branches that seem safe while walking about are right at eye level when on the seat of a tractor. With enough bug spray and a huge floppy hat I can chop chop chop for about 90 minutes before needing sustenance and a short nap.

All these chores will help us in future years, but we all can't wait for that day when we will be up here for good and don't have to schlep back and forth to DC. 23 months left, but who's counting?

carnival of homeschooling

Home Spun Juggling is hosting this week's carnival with a juggling theme.

I don't wanna buy more baby gear

When you are expecting your first child you get the newest and most fashionable stroller, clothes, and crib. When you are expecting your second child you spluge on more stuff like an Ultrasaucer and a changing table.

When you are expecting your sixth child you need new stuff because the other 5 kids have destroyed the baby gates, lost the breast pump parts, and turned the Boppy Pillow into a 2" high pancake. So you either suck it up and buy more stuff or resort to what people used before BabiesRUs existed.

stereotypical Maine summer day

Yesterday I told the kids to pack up the van with beach gear (we went to Mass on Saturday afternoon so we could hit confession beforehand) and we headed out on to Knight's Pond. Saturday was a hotter day, and not just because I ran a 5K (2nd in my age group), and the race ended in a parking lot with the smell of trash wafting from the Bangor City Dump. They remembered all the life jackets, the inflatable boat and paddles, the cooler, and the blanket to sit on. My only job was to pack pb&js and change Julia Ellen's nappie. We left Tim happily mowing the field edges and spent the afternoon splashing, riding about, and chatting with the other families.

After cleaning up ourselves and the van we headed back out to go to the lobster pound for supper, a yearly treat. Lobster pound dining runs the gamut, some eat off the tacky Styrofoam trays with a plastic fork while the more glamorous cover the picnic table with a tablecloth and pull out bottles of wine, appetizers, and salad to accompany their boiled lobster. Before I tucked into my twin special (2 lobsters on a plate) the children picked up lobsters from the tank. "I picked up two at one time!" "Look at this big one!" (yes, I know this is a crab, but the others were dark)

Eating an ice cream bar back home finished up the day with promises that we would visit the pond several more times in the coming weeks.

hallelujah!

We are finished with school! While Maggie finished 1st grade months ago and Mary finished about 4 weeks ago, it took Will forever to write and polish his book report on St. John Vianney. The California Achievement Test is knocked out so all that is left is for me to drop off the mailers at the post office.

This is the latest is has ever taken us to get through a school year in our 6 years of homeschooling, but it is the first time that we had a baby born in the middle of the academic year. Of course we are all ready to start back up in about 2 weeks, but we will take advantage of the hot temperatures and sunny skies that have finally arrived in Maine. Today we are planning a trip to Knight's Pond, a secret spot in the middle of nowhere with a tiny beach, blueberry bushes, and a resident Bald Eagle.


In the meantime Maggie and Charlie have been clamoring to begin phonics and mathematics, so who am I to say they can't?

mommies of large families are psychotic?

In 2007 alone, American women birthed more than 4.3 million babies — the highest number ever. More than a quarter of those were to women having their third or fourth child, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention.

Some women may like being pregnant a little too much, often driven to rapidly reproduce out of insecurity, a craving for attention, or feelings of abandonment by their own parents.

Having babies isn't addictive in the way that alcohol and narcotics can be. But bumpaholics feel compelled to procreate for many of the same reasons that substance abusers turn to booze or drugs.

"Women who are obsessed with being pregnant are literally filling an emptiness inside of them, just as alcoholics and drug addicts use substances to fill a psychological void," says Beverly Hills psychiatrist Carole Lieberman, M.D. Every one of us at some point encounters this void, adds New York family therapist Bonnie Eaker Weil, Ph.D., author of "Financial Infidelity." "You want to have a purpose in this world. You want to feel less lonely." msn

Or some of us could be us just love babies, like our children, and are trying to follow the God's teaching. There are days like today that I feel psychotic, but that is because I have 6 children, not the other way around.

dirt in the...

house, dirt in the car, dirt in kid's hair, dirt caked into the kid's clothes. Where did all this dirt come from? A big hole in the ground- the foundation for what will be our house 18 months from now. In the meantime, we have lots of dirt to play in. Dirt for playing house, playing roads, playing that they are dogs,

that they are bulldozers, that they are at war, and dozens of other games that I can't figure out. But the children are outside in the sunshine and using all those Tonka toys I bought the little boys for Christmas. Charlie now wants an excavator after getting to sit in the cab and move the levers.

Anyone want to come over and play in the dirt?

this is the face...

that apparently stops people’s prayers. We were sitting in Mass this past Sunday and the folks behind us couldn’t stop raving about how beautiful Julia Ellen was. During the passing of the peace we were told by the woman in front of us how pretty she was. Then when I had dismissed the children, “You may go downstairs and have a doughnut,” cleaned up the crayons and was getting ready to genuflect another woman said, “What a beautiful baby!”

If I hadn’t had 5 other babies who looked exactly the same I might me thinking I have a child model on my hands. Yeah she is chubby and smiles a lot, but gee, I feel like I’m back in Italy, the land full of people who love children but don’t have any of their own. Chio bella!

where is Mary??

I forgot my kid. I didn’t lose her, I just forgot about poor Mary in the locker room at the pool while we were on the playground across the parking lot. There she was sitting on the bench in her underpants and t-shirt while I had her shorts in my purse. I tried to give them to her after her swimming lesson but all I got was, “I can’t take them, I’m all wet.” So, for 30 minutes she felt alone and abandoned until I called everyone to get in the van and realized that I hadn’t seen her outside. I should tell her to not feel bad, both my parents forgot my baby brother once, only realizing ½ mile down the road that he was still back in the house.

I am constantly counting heads when we are out, “Do we have everyone we came with? No extras?”

All is well, I gave Mary the privilege of choosing the pasta for naked spaghetti (or should I say naked macaroni?) tonight. I’m forgiven and perhaps she will take more responsibility for her own things next time we go to the pool.

lobster dripping with butter

This losing weight business is for the birds. I should be so grateful that within 5 months of Julia Ellen’s birth I can fit back into most of my clothes. This morning I weighed myself after running and nursing and found the scale showing that I am only 2.5 pounds over my pre-pregnancy weight. Switching from an all-you-can-eat pregnancy diet where I had at least one soda a day and M&Ms every night while reading in bed, I would think that I would be back in size 8 in weeks. No such luck.

The problem? Every time I lose a pound my appetite increases to the point of me thoughtlessly scarfing down half a bag of cheese popcorn or doing something else insane, sabotaging my efforts. Then it takes super-human effort for several days to see that same number on the scale. This week's stress of driving Will and Mary an hour each way to sailing lessons hasn't helped matters, a Coca-a-cola keeps me calm enough to not drive like a mad woman on the twisty back roads just to shave off a minute or two.

carnival of homeschooling

Beverly is hosting this week's carnival with a game day theme, I wonder if some of our top five favorite games are listed?

1. Mad Dash
2. Clue Mysteries
3. Puppyopoly
4. Junior Scrabble
5. Uno

We usually have several jigsaw puzzles being put together and the big kids and I play Rummy after the little ones go to bed. (they bounce on the bed and mess up the cards)

Force feeding a cultural education

Last Monday night we drove into Bangor (the “big” city) and went to an evening concert hosted by Kneisel Hall, a Blue Hill summer program for young talented musicians. Now, any parent of small children will state that evening activities, especially ones that involve being quiet are bad ideas. But I really wanted Will and Mary to see Emely Phelps, a prize-winning pianist, currently studying at The Julliard School. The options were to take everyone and pray for good behavior or forget the whole idea. Until 20 minutes before we left the house I wasn’t sure we going to go, but Timmy had a long nap so we changed into nice clothes after supper and hit the road.

After arriving at the church, we sat next to the door off to the side so I had a quick escape route in case of noise or bathroom emergency. A lady came over and graciously asked if the baby was a quiet one, “Oh yes, she is very good and I will cut out if she fusses.” I didn’t take offense, but put myself in the position of the musicians who have practiced and studied for weeks to learn their pieces. I certainly wouldn’t want to spoil the concert with 6 loud, unruly children. Will of course paid perfect attention to the concert while the others were much less interested. Why I folded a copy of Mother Earth News magazine (I only read it for the articles and try not to go ballistic over the enviro-wacko anti-child editiorals) into my purse I don’t know, but it is likely that it saved the evening for over a hundred people. Charlie spent an hour examining each photo within, spending most of his time on the tractor ads. All anyone heard from our pew was a little gurgle from Julia Ellen before I started nursing and a faint repeating hiccup afterwards. The first trio played pieces by Haydn for 20 minutes and the second group (a string quartet) played Mendelssohn’s #6 for 40 minutes. The wiggling and shuffling was getting more noticeable so I made an executive decision to cut our attendance short and head out during the intermission.



A good plan for both a comedian or parent is to always leave them wanting more, the audience that is. Several folks complimented the children’s behavior as we scooted through the crowd, but I knew that if we had stayed we would have ended up leaving in disgrace.


I recall a discussion a few months back on someone's blog about rewarding the children when they are praised by strangers (for their behavior, not their looks) and I felt that they certainly deserved a treat so when we were all strapped in the van I said, “Sundaes at Dysarts!” Even though it was way past their bedtime I was very impressed by their manners and consider the outing a great success.


It occurred to me while we were listening to the beautiful music that I was in a similar position to those young adults in a way. They worked and practiced every day for years to be able to play difficult scores and make it appear effortless, while I have worked, endlessly it seems, for over a decade to have children who can be trusted to sit quietly in church. All the Masses standing in the vestibule, bribing the children with doughnuts, training them in the proper behavior made it look easy. I can’t say that it will be clear sailing from here on out, but this outing would have deemed impossible only a few years ago. So, for those with only little children I give you hope that one day you will be able to listen to the beauty of Mass with few distractions, at least from your own pew.

let them howl

Ever since Will came home from Boy Scout camp he has been eager to use some of his new skills. Our backyard has turned into a campsite, complete with a roped off wood chopping area, 2 tents, a screened pavilion, and now a fire pit. He did a good job constructing all this on his own (I helped put up the pavilion) and the second attempt at fire building was much better than the first. Last night we roasted marshmallows and I let the big kids read in the sleeping bags for 45 minutes after dark.

Charlie couldn’t make himself brave enough to walk out alone to the tents in the dark, so he nestled next to me in bed and was soon sound asleep. I wasn’t too keen on the idea of walking down myself to fetch the rest of them, and to prove my point the second after I poked my nose in the tent, I heard a coyote howl in the not so distant woods. Maggie propelled herself out of her sleeping bag and followed the other sprinting children across the grass and up the back stairs into the safe and secure house. Tim and I conference on the phone and decided that letting the 4 big kids sleep in the hay loft in the barn is a good compromise, they would be camping out, but not accessible to hungry wild animals.

Miss Poopy Pants

I overbought size 1 diapers for Julia Ellen, the poor child had red impressions of the elastic on her thighs when they were wet and swelled up. Now that we have finished up the last package I am free to resume using the cloth diapers that Michelle so graciously lent me a month or so ago. Since the diapers were free and I picked up a few vinyl covers at the thrift shop for less than $1 each I am saving several dollars a day by using cloth. Not to sound like someone’s grandmother, “Back when I was a little girl a Coca-cola cost a nickel,” but way back when my first child was a baby the name brand disposable diapers were about 15 cents each, now they are hovering around 23 cents apiece.

Now down in suburbia land the magic trash truck comes every Wednesday morning and makes all those stinky diapers disappear, but up here in rural Maine you have to take all the trash to the dump (politely and accurately called the transfer station) yourself. Most towns even charge up to $2.50 a bag for the privilege of throwing it away and disposables take up a lot of room. I figure that washing is almost free since we have a well and septic system. Julia Ellen really likes having her nappy changed so the frequent whisking away of wet underclothes makes her smile and kick her feet.

what a view!

Charlie is a typical 5 year old boy. His legs go faster than his sense of balance can handle, so he manages to fall or trip every 10 feet. Maggie doesn’t have the same excuse since most 6 year old girls exhibit a little more grace. Both children’s legs are currently covered with bruises and nasty cases of poison ivy. Today’s outing didn’t improve their looks in our attempt to hike to the top of a nearby mountain.

After befriending the world’s biggest black Labrador Retriever (he put his face in the window of my full-size van to say hi), we walked up a rocky road beside a blueberry field

before scrambling up quarter-acre size rock faces and sitting down to eat our picnic lunch. We fended off the now hungry dog, the deer flies, and no-see-ums, eating our sandwiches in record time so we could pick wild blueberries and drink down limeade. The view was just incredible with woods and farms spread out before us and the river off to the east. I promised the kids that we could bring binoculars the next time so we could find the exact location of our farm.

Between sweating just from carrying Julia Ellen in the sling and holding Timmy’s hand I had my hands full and just gasped when I saw Maggie trip on a rock in front of me and see half the bag of cheese popcorn go flying through the air in a beautiful arc. Her arm and leg were bleeding (luckily it wasn’t the knee that had been cut so badly last week that if we lived closer to the ER we would have gotten stitches) and she tried to make everyone else miserable all the way back to the car.

Just to add to the sweat and ickiness of our hike, when it came time for drying off after baths I noticed Charlie messing with himself. He said, “Is this a tick?” and sure enough there was one right THERE. While I did flinch at first, I managed to get it off and flushed down the potty.

do you need to go?

Now that Timmy has turned 3, we are potty training in earnest. He started about a month ago learning to sit on the potty and get m&ms for sitting. Now he has progressed to getting 1 candy for using the potty if I ask him to, 2 candies if he does it without me reminding him, and a whole 8 candies for pooping in the potty. There are still lots of wet pants, especially since we spend so much time outside doing various farm chores and he isn’t within a few feet all the time. There are gross moments like this morning when I finally got myself and the baby ready to attack weeds only to discover after I stepped outside that Timmy had pooped in his pants. Yuck.

But I have to remember that all the older children went through this as well, I recall one particularly nasty episode in a Subway sandwich shop restroom where I just pitched out Maggie’s underpants. Timmy will eventually learn to use the potty, which will likely lead to embarrassing events like last week when Charlie dropped trou right in front of a dozen picnickers at a town beach and peed right on the sand.

enjoying the summer sun

Well, we finally experienced the first 2 hot days of the summer much to the delight of my children as well as every other person in New England. Even the local newspapers have front page articles about what the rain has done to the farmers and tourists. Nothing has been growing and fungus diseases have been rampant while the tourists from Canada are still traveling here in masse. It makes me wonder how cold and miserable the weather must be up there if they think Maine is an improvement this summer. I have been slowly signing the children up for lessons in swimming, sailing, and canoeing.

Last year Mary helped out at the farm down the road with the horses, but our neighbor seems a bit distracted and hasn’t gotten back in touch with me. I think I’ll check out the horse rescue farm a few miles away and see if she can do anything useful. Mary just wants to be around the creatures in any way she can, she checks out every horse book, fiction or non-fiction, she can from the library and asks every few days, “Do you promise I can have a pony when we move here?”

A well meaning friend keeps suggesting that the girls do ballet with her children, but I can’t contemplate spending beautiful Maine days cooped up at an inside activity. What people who summer here as children remember are the bright blue skies, the cool breezes, the days on the water, and the incredible views of mountain and sea. I want the kids outside, running through the fields, riding their bikes to the mailbox, and wading at the shore. As soon as the package arrives with my sling, we are going to hike up this mountain that overshadows our farm.

It is a mile to the top, but without a secure method of carrying Julia Ellen, it might as well be as far as the moon. While we aren’t quite ready to camp at Mt. Katahdin or brave the summer crowds at Acadia National Park, we are enjoying every ray of sunshine, every breeze, and every opportunity to be out in the wonderful Maine air.

run faster!

After a year long respite I signed up for another running race, but this time one of the children agreed to run with me. Mary has gone running a few times and shows promise so when I explained that the course was less than 2 miles and all downhill she agreed. This morning we got up, futzed around for a bit and topped off Julia Ellen’s tank, before leaving town to go up to Brewer in the misty rain. I was much more nervous than she was, I knew I wasn’t as fast as I was last year. However, the crowds of people lining the route cheered us all on (the 4th of July parade starts 15 minutes after the race) and the views over the Penobscot River were quite pretty. I finished the 3000m in about 13:30 (my first mile time was 6:30) and started back to cheer on Mary, only to find her standing in the chute, already finished with a time around 14:30.

I was so proud of my little runner and she paraded around the rest of the day in her race shirt making Maggie and Will jealous. They have already promised to run next year with the added bonus of seeing the parade and scooping up some candy from the floats. Now I just have to convince Tim to haul the rest of the crew to cheer us on, I think the mention of classic cars and a 1952 John Deere tractor just might be the trick.

shipping one kid off

This afternoon we took Will up to Boy Scout camp, his first time being away from home for more than a night or two. I’m sitting here in relative luxury, for my little boy forgot to pack soap, there wasn’t a pack of mosquito netting available within 300 miles, and I'm not quite sure that he remembered to pack shorts.

The sun finally came out for the first time in over a week and the temperature soared above 80F for the first time all summer. It might be a very stinky, buggy, and hot week but I’m sure that he will still have a great time. After all, my little social butterfly will have 199 other boys to jabber with for 6 days and no amount of discomfort could compete with that.

eat your veggies

After hitting two of our local libraries for new books to read, I came across this interesting selection An Apple a Day, The Myths, Misconceptions, and Truths About the Foods We Eat by Joe Schwarcz, PhD. The first half covers specific foods and whether the health claims we hear about in the media are warranted. Some examples are tomatoes and Lycopene, fish and Omega 3 Fats, and Chocolate and Flavanols. The other half of the book concentrates on food issues of our day that have turned trying to have a healthy lifestyle into a herculean task. Is MSG that awful? Is High Fructose Corn Syrup the same chemically as sugar made from sugar cane or beets? Are there fewer pesticides in organically grown veggies? Should we be concerned about polyvinyl chloride leaching into our foods from plastic bottles? The more I read the less worried I was about not jumping on the wagon every time another medical study “proves” that this food is good or that one is dangerous.

While I think it is great that some families feed their children granola for breakfast, hummus and salt-free pita for lunch, cabbage and hormone-free free-range chicken for supper, I can’t manage to go beyond a little ground flax thrown in the pancake mix and a ban on colored breakfast cereal. I might not be doing too badly, the kids eat pounds of fruit and we use real butter and hormone-free milk. Basically studies show that you should eat lots of fruits and veggies, more whole grains, low fat dairy, and eat less overall. If you are concerned about what your family eats or are just want to know if the hype is for real, read a few chapters. I do suggest putting an apple beside your favorite reading spot ‘cause all this talk of food will make you hungry for a healthy snack.

a day at the beach

Since our arrival we have had 1 full day with no rain, so after school and mowing the area around the house with the riding mower we decided to hit the beach. Now, while Maine boasts of hundreds, if not thousands of miles of coastline, most of these beaches consist of gravel, not sand. Children don’t seem to mind, but gravel does tend to stick to the legs and feet, getting deposited all over the inside of the car and the bottom of the bathtub. While it was hot and sunny on the farm, by the time we drove the 20 minutes down to the coast there was a light cover of fog, which hung over the boats in the harbor.


Luckily for us the tide was going out and the kids found seaweed to decorate their castle and moats, emerging rocks to climb on, as well as starfish and periwinkles to collect (and return to the sea). I talked a bit with the harbormaster about the summer sailing program and then packed up the car and headed back home in time for supper. Sometimes capturing summer memories here is like trying to catch a butterfly, you have to be willing to run when the moment arrives, for the sunshine does not stay for very long.

up in Vacationland

Except for the accident, the trip up to Maine was pretty uneventful. I suggest lessons in all aspects of driving a trailer, including backing up, before setting off. The silver lining in the past few days has been that I like my big-mama van much better than the hulking SUV that we are renting while the dent in the van is fixed. I can’t imagine having to fold down the middle seat every time everyone gets in/out, and the thing uses gas like my kids drink chocolate milk through a straw.

On the down side it has been raining for an entire week and only 1 day this week looks to be lovely. Eventually it will stop and the fields will be hayed so we can take long walks and explore. My garden plot looked indistinguishable from the surrounding grass field and when Tim tried to till it on the first dry day he and the entire tractor were soon covered in mud. But soon enough I will plant my box full of veggie seeds. Apparently I’m not too late; folks who planted a few weeks back had all their seedlings killed by frost.

As for school, the older children are whittling down their workload and progressing through the tall stack of piano books their teacher handed me at the recital. They really like to experiment with the different sounds on the electronic keyboard we bought last year for them to practice on. The church organ and harpsichord settings seem to be the most popular, but Will played Old Susanna that made it sound like a real banjo.

Our first outing proved to be a success when we pulled up and Charlie piped up, “This is my favorite library! They have a train table, fish, AND a turtle!” The older children appreciate the finer things, the ability to confer with a knowledgable and enthusiastic children’s librarian who directed Will to Eoin Colfer’s books and showed him the new purchases in the space exploration section. Without my knowing it, the oldest child has learned to Google, but has limited his searches to NASA and Apollo sites. I guess when we get back to Maryland I will have to put a filter on the internet. I can’t imagine what sort of sites might pop up if he searches for “space games.”

We are certainly all glad to be back in Maine: the views are prettier, the pies at the truck stop are sweeter, and our family is able to get out into nature more, even in the damp and drizzle.

on the road again...

The next time I post it will be from the local library in Maine using their WiFi. As they are 10 miles away it is likely I will only be able to post a few times a week. This time tomorrow and the next day, and the day after that we will be mowing the fields, tilling the garden, planting seeds, and moving everything from the garage into our new barn. I'll be sure to post pictures of our progress!

but I'm sure their social skills will make up for it...

While the yellow bus has stopped hurtling down our street every morning, two of our children are still hunched over the books. Will has to finish his last week in Wordly Wise and write 2 book reports, while Mary will continue working on spelling and math. We still haven't even received the California Achievement Test and the piano teacher gave me a huge stack of books for them to work on all summer.

One of the benefits of homeschooling is that there is no opportunity to play the blame game; I am the teacher and the parent. If one of the children isn't doing well in a subject then we can immediately review, concentrate on, or experiment with another method to learn the information.

CHICAGO (CBS) ―
A startling number of children are falling through the cracks at one Chicago Public School.

The mother of a one student who failed eighth grade says she got no warning her son was struggling. The school says she was notified, and other parents insist she did not do enough. Tatianna Dennis says she had no idea her son was about to fail English; no written notices from Bradwell Elementary, she says, and no warning from his teacher. Tarrell had failed English two times before, but Dennis thought he was doing better. "They told me that he was fine. He was starting to come around and his grades were picking up," Dennis said. "They never gave me any indication that he was going downhill."

It was a disastrous year for the eighth grade at the south side Bradwell Elementary school in a tough neighborhood with high poverty. More than half the class, 44 of 77 students, did not graduate.

stylish luggage

Since we leave for Maine in just a few days I have been frantically cleaning, organizing, sorting clothes, making lists, and returning books to the library. After looking and sweeping under beds searching for that last Boxcar Children book that was on the card we headed over to the other branch library and found two copies. "Are either of these still checked out?" I asked the librarian and found out that it had been sitting prettily on the shelf for two weeks. I guess I should be irritated, but at least now there isn't anything under the beds, not even dust.


Our plan today is school, piano, and while the children's auntie comes to say goodbye, I'm going to scoot out and hit IKEA for a few new rugs and under the bed storage bins. Two dressers are not enough for 6 children and there isn't enough room for another. I also have to pick up some more boxes from the local storage place, I don't have nearly enough suitcases for 8 people to pack clothes in for 14 weeks.


Schoolbooks, hairclippers, raincoats, sweatshirts, don't forget the blue potties for Timmy. Coolers, lifejackets, camera, and computer, squeeze in 4 dolls and Geraldine the giraffe. It could be worse, the last two summers we have PCSed and then headed up to Maine, at least I don't have to unpack too.

orphanages for children with parents

My favorite quote from Dr. Laura is when she was on a panel of one of those daytime shows like Oprah and was getting hammered by the anti-stay-at-home crowd. She asked, "Suppose you were to come back to this world as a little baby. Raise your hand if would you want to be put in day care as opposed to being taken care of at home by your own mother?" It immediately shut down all opposition.

This news article reminds me of her question, Why have children if you aren't going to raise them?" How on earth can someone consider warehousing their small child in an institution for over 10 hours a day?

(LifeSiteNews.com) - A sweeping change that would combine day care with kindergarten in Ontario schools is being proposed by Liberal Premier Dalton McGuinty. The plan would allow parents of 4- and 5-year-olds to leave their children at school from 7:30 in the morning to 6 in the evening.

John Campbell, chairman of the Toronto District School Board, approved of the proposal, saying many parents will welcome the possibility of leaving their children in care facilities for a longer period of time.

"With so many households where you have two working parents or if you have a single-parent family where the sole parent is working, they're already looking for these kinds of solutions," he said in a Canadian Press report.

Chair of the Ottawa-Carleton District School Board, Lynn Scott said, “I think some parents will certainly welcome it. I’m not sure that’s true of all parents,” she told the Ottawa Citizen, and added that acceptance of the program "will depend on how much importance people place on parents interacting with their young children."

carnival of homeschooling

Super Angels is hosting this week's carnival.

serving God at the altar

Our parish had a surprise this past Sunday when we read the bulletin and found that Bishop Peter Elliott of Melbourne, Australia was saying Mass. He gave a wonderful and orthodox homily on the banquet feast of Holy Communion. When he was introduced to the parishioners afterwards in the social hall one of the ladies asked me, "Can Will serve Mass tomorrow and Tuesday for Bishop Elliot?"

Unlike our former parish, St. Benedict's in Chesapeake, VA, where 15-20 boys rotate serving duties, our parish here only has 2-3 servers so Will serves every week we are in town. I agreed that we would be there and made sure he practiced the responses and gestures that evening. When we arrived before Mass on Monday he found out that no one else was available to serve and he would be doing it alone for the very first time. All my prayers were for my son that he would do his best and glorify God in his actions and words. I especially held my breath after the Sanctus that he would not forget to ring the bell once at the Hanc Igitur (not that the ceiling would come crashing in if he didn't, but I wanted it to be perfect).


After Mass everyone congratulated Will on his fine job and I suggested that doughnuts would be a fitting treat for everyone. While we were sitting at the kitchen table chomping away, Charlie asked, "Is Will going to be a priest soon?" I can only hope and pray that God grant one of our children a vocation to the priesthood or religious life.

happy birthday Charlie

Someone woke up on Saturday morning and the first thing out of his lips was, "When can we make my cake?" Charlie had picked out a funfetti mix and decided that blue icing was just the thing to make it special. We did wait until breakfast was eaten and cleaned up before we started, but our brand-new 5 year old got to crack the eggs and work the mixer.

I have been keeping a list of gift ideas for each family member so when it comes time for birthday shopping I can recall what they have mentioned wanting or needing. Charlie's list was: windup flashlight, play dough, and a replacement Thomas the Tank Engine (which he lost at the hospital one day a few months back). All the children asked if they could play play dough on Sunday afternoon and the older children made these and baked them in the oven to save their artwork.

piano recital

Yesterday we all dressed up and drove down to the local Unitarian church (which, from the snapshots on the wall, seems to be where only chubby middle-aged pantheists worship) and watched Will and Mary participate. From little 7 year old Sarah to high school senior Alec (who has been taking lessons for 12 years) the kids were all impressive. All the children also scored honors on the Maryland Piano Teachers music theory test.

I asked some of the other moms at dinner the other evening if they thought that more homeschoolers play musical instruments than public school kids. They seemed to think so, especially since several of us were getting ready for spring recitals. Mary played Sonatina in C by Costly and March of the Wee Folk by Gaynor before playing Alligator Blues by Bastien in a duet. Will played Gavotte by Bach and The Clown by Kabalevsky (his teacher said he learned this faster than any child she has taught) before playing Rondo Capriccio by Beethoven in a duet with his friend John.

Everyone was impressed by Charlie and Timmy who sat for the entire hour without saying a word or making a noise. As for Julia Ellen? She fell asleep in her daddy's arms and certainly didn't ruin her outfit, which she did to me twice the day before at the IHM Conference.

had a blast!

What would help you in your homeschooling? Vendors selling every curriculum/book that interest you? Speakers who have been in the trenches for years and know just the trick to dealing with whatever is hampering your daily life? A dinner out with new and old friends to bounce ideas off of and affirm your radical decision to homeschool?

Well... yesterday at the IHM Conference it was all these things and more. It was being immersed in a micro culture of life with babies and hugely pregnant women everywhere you looked. It was being able to say grace in a fast food restaurant and not have anyone look at you funny ('cause they are all saying it too). It was chatting with other moms who were right where you were 5-10 years ago and have 800 questions about how to homeschool. If you have the opportunity to attend such a conference then just ball up the courage and go!

ready for the IHM Conference

Tomorrow is the IHM Catholic Homeschooling and Family Life Conference in Chantilly, VA. I have gone twice before, but since we lived so far away I stayed in the hotel. This time I can only go for one day with Will and Mary's piano recital and Charlie's birthday on Saturday, but I am looking forward to the exciting speakers, the myriad of items for sale, and seeing many old friends. I had to scramble to find someone to watch the kids, Tim is on call that day and he couldn't stay home (he said he would take them all to work- bad idea) but luckily my cousin Ann volunteered to come over at 8am through lunchtime. I then asked on the local Catholic homeschool Yahoo group if anyone had a teenage daughter who could sit and voila! lovely college student Shelia called and is going to relieve Ann until Tim gets home.

With that logistical nightmare figured out I then set my brain to deciding how I was going to nurse Julia Ellen without showing too much flesh. After seeing several ladies with new nursing covers I decided to make myself one.

Now if I could just figure out how to cart around the baby, my purse, and my new books without resorting to buying a new stroller at BabysRUs.

fat baby

My grandmother said when I told her how well Julia Ellen was doing, "You have to put that child on a diet!" I won't even think about how one would go about doing that, but fat babies are healthy and happy babies. I love the little folds on her thighs, the perpetually damp neck that never sees the sun, and the cheek jowls that hang below her chin. (yes, that is a little milk curd on her lip)

There will be plenty of time in her life to be neurotic about her weight, 3 months is far too early for all of that. Plus, every pound she gains is likely 1 pound that I lose, though I'm not sure it works out quite that evenly.

missing child

Yesterday afternoon I wanted to swing by the library before dropping off Will and Mary and then hitting the Commissary. I called down the stairs, "Time to go, shoes on! Grab your piano stuff!" I had given Julia Ellen a good feed and went to wake up Timmy from his nap. The door to the boy's room was ajar and no blonde head was in the bed. I ran outside and yelled, "Timmy?"

Upstairs, downstairs: no Timmy.


Then we looked in the girl's room and amidst the piles of stuffed animals and doll babies on Mary's bed was a little sleeping boy. I didn't particularly want to play our version of Where's Waldo? but all is well and we made it out the door in time. One of my big chores before we leave for Maine is to return every one of the 50 books we still have checked out, but I have to keep the 6 children entrusted to my care safe every minute of every day.

carnival of homeschooling

Dana at Principled Discovery is hosting this week's carnival with a Field Guide to Homeschoolers.

laws forcing adult children to pay for ma's care

I heard this talked about a few days ago on the radio and it was interesting to hear both of the Baby Boomer hosts say, "Everyone should take care of Mom and Dad. It is horrible that we should have to resort to laws to make people do it." While it of course is the Christian thing to take care of your elderly parents, what about the millions of adult children (of Boomers) who had their childhoods ripped apart by divorce? One of my college roommates couldn't even figure out where to go for Christmas break since her mother was on her 3rd marriage and her father on his 4th. Does sending a paltry check once a month for child support count as evidence that would later be used as justification for garnishing wages from their adult children?

Did you know you could be responsible for your parents' unpaid bills? Thirty states currently have laws making adult children responsible for their parents if their parents can't afford to take care of themselves. While these laws are rarely enforced, there has been speculation that states may begin dusting them off as a way to save on Medicaid expenses.

These laws, called filial responsibility laws, obligate adult children to provide necessities like food, clothing, housing, and medical attention for their indigent parents.
According to the National Center for Policy Analysis, a conservative research organization, 21 states allow a civil court action to obtain financial support or cost recovery, 12 states impose criminal penalties on children who do not support their parents, and three states allow both civil and criminal actions.

Generally, most states do not require children to provide care if they do not have the ability to pay. States vary on what factors they consider when determining whether an adult child has the ability to pay. Children may also not be required to support their parents if the parents abandoned them or did not support them.

The passage of the Deficit Reduction Act of 2005 made it more difficult to qualify for Medicaid, which means there may be more elderly individuals in nursing homes with no ability to pay for care. In response, nursing homes may use the filial responsibility laws as a way to get care paid for. Senior Journal

economic difficulties

This week I have been told of 5 people who have lost their job in the past few weeks, 4 homeschooling dads and a single mom. Things are getting bad out there and likely to get worse. The worse places to be financially are Michigan and California, according to the National Stress Index up at AP. With unemployment at 9.5%, even folks who have steady jobs are asking themselves, "What would/could I do if I lost my job?"

It is more important than ever to be aware of every dollar going out the door and asking, "Do I really need to buy this product or service?" Something that I have been doing lately is finding school supplies at the thrift shop rather than hitting Office Depot. I wouldn't be able to find these deals in Maine since folks up there epitomize the stereotypical Yankee spendthrift, but down here in wasteful government spending land I can find pens, pencils, rulers, index cards, binders, notepads, preschool workbooks, storage baskets, flashcards, maps, and drawing pads for next to nothing.

In the book Cheaper By the Dozen the father made the children listen to French records while they were brushing their teeth. Copying his method of instruction I've hung calender pages of Leonardo da Vinci paintings in the upstairs bathroom, a poster of the Sistine Chapel ceiling on the back of the half bath door, and a topographic map of the United States in the basement bathroom next to the potty. I figure I shouldn't restrict their time in the bathroom, but I sure can make it educational.

one fabulous homeschooled speller

A West Palm Beach eighth grader is among the 41 spellers advancing to the semifinals of the Scripps National Spelling Bee in Washington, D.C.. Serena Laine-Lobsinger, 13, sailed through the preliminary round on Wednesday. Serena, who is home schooled, said she learned many of her words from reading classic books. But since winning the regional competition in February, she's also been studying word lists between one and three hours every day.

It's not always easy to step up to the microphone in an instant-elimination contest on national television. But thanks to her bee experience, Serena has a cool head and a good perspective.
Eventually, she said, "everyone but one person gets a word they don't know." Palm Beach Post
Serena's bio reads:

Serena enjoys interior design, sewing, and learning to play guitar and piano. In her spare time she likes photographing nature or cityscapes and going shopping. Serena has a passion for writing and literature, namely historical fiction and classics. Her favorite author is Jane Austen. Serena participated in the 2008 national finals.

She made it to round 8, correctly spelling peculiar, typhlology, agrestic, hircocervus, imprimis, and omphaloskepsis, before spelling the word conchiliated incorrectly. I know that I couldn't stand up on that stage and even spell my own name due to nerves. I have the greatest admiration for all the children that participate in the Scripps National Spelling Bee.

new look

Yesterday was hot. Not tropical hot, but it was too hot to not run the AC and I hate having hair sitting on the back of my neck 'cause it makes me sweat. So after a shower and with most of the children watching I took some scissors to my head. Since I cut all the kid's hair as well as keep Tim's military buzz in check I wasn't scared. After several really horrible haircuts as a child I have been mostly snipping my own hair for several years but was the first time I dared cut it so short.

Now I have a simple bob, think Katie Holmes (+ 15 years). All the fake blond has finally grown out and while I was tempted for about 30 seconds to dye it again, I like it.

carnival of homeschooling

Why Homeschool is hosting the Carnival this week with a Baby Bop edition.

hysterically funny and educational

Yesterday at the library the little kids and I were picking out picture books and videos while Will and Mary were at piano lessons. I was glancing at the CDs and pulled out Beethoven's Wig 2. On the way we played it and were roaring over Stuck in the Saddle Again sung to the Light Cavalry Overture by Suppe and an introduction to opera with Sing Verdi Very Loud. I think the folks in the car next to us were giggling at seeing everyone laughing and me tapping on the steering wheel.
This collection is a fun way to learn some classical pieces, bits about composers, and a easy transition into the Music Masters Series that we have enjoyed on car trips. Unfortunately our "new" van (it is only 3 year old, but that is pretty new to me) only has a CD player and I bought the MM series in tapes. I guess I know what to get for some one's upcoming 11th birthday.

there are some pretty mean people out there

Yeah, I was out of the loop this weekend with 3 Boy scout activities, a trip to the NRA range, extra piano practice for the upcoming recital, cleaning my house for company, and a trip to the thrift shop to restock Julia Ellen's wardrobe. While perusing my favorite blogs Sunday evening, I read great rebuttals to this anti-homeschooling post by Michelle and Spunky.

Apparently we homeschoolers are selfish, going against God's wishes, arrogant, intolerant, racist, and raising geeks. I can say with my whole heart that none of these things are true of any homeschooler I know. We see a broken system that doesn't care about children, is atheist in teaching, and is supremely arrogant and we don't want to sacrifice the gifts we have been entrusted with on the altar of government education. We can do a better job teaching our children, even if we don't have multiple degrees after our name because we want these children to succeed much more than any paid stranger and will do everything we can to train them to be good people.

Then poor Tim had to put all the little ones to bed while I was immersed in the saga posted by Milehimamma after she was attacked for not properly feeding or educating her 7 (soon to be 8) children. After reading her blog for over a year now I can say that she feeds her kids a lot more nutritious diet than I ever could and I think I'm doing a better job than the average. Her kids eat lentils and brussel sprouts for crying out loud!

"If you loved them, you would want them to have the attention and time it takes to make them the best they can be. Good schools limit the number of children in a classroom. Why? Because teachers need time to teach and care for each child. Good mothers are the same way. And special needs children need even more time."

Guess what? Most teachers have classes of 28-35 kids in their class, down to 12 in a special education room. That is far more than Milehimamma has in her "school." She blows me out of the water with her highly organized Montessori style toys in her living room, her training the kids to save $$ by using dry-erase markers in workbooks, and the obvious patience she exhibits with her kids. Some mothers are called to raise children with more needs than others and I have all the respect in the world for them.

In the slightly modified words of Dr. Laura, "Which of you would want to be homeschooled by your loving mother or sent away to the local public school?" I would definitely want to be in one of these Mommy's homes being taught my ABCs.

this is sick

A candlelight vigil has been scheduled for 8 p.m. today at Old Town Square to show support for George Tiller's family and to oppose violence.
Dustin Deckard, 20, organized the vigil and is hoping it will be "a quiet show of support for Dr. Tiller and a moment to remember his medical and political triumphs."

A candlelight vigil for a man who has murdered thousands of innocent children. While any killing is wrong, I can't exactly shed tears of sorrow for George Tiller, abortionist.