Parenting as They Grow

Animal and Mineral — okay, all of the kids, really — are getting older. And even though I enjoy being able to have conversations with them, and I appreciate the logic they use to lie to me — if I say the baby did it, then I’m off the hook and mom can’t be too mad because the baby is just a toddler who likes to destroy/spill milk on/use a knife against everything! — it’s also much more challenging, emotionally.

20120918-233726.jpg(The “easy” one)

I want them to share with me, but I don’t want to push them if they’re not ready.

I want them to be honest with me, but I don’t want them to think that being honest absolves them of consequences for poor decisions.

I want to give them opportunities to enjoy life without the confines of being in a classroom, but I want them to learn the basic communication skills necessary for functioning in society. (And maybe also their times tables. And some history.)

On a related note, it’s genuinely difficult to enjoy all those opportunities when

1. There are five of them, and very few activities fit everyone’s interests
2. We don’t have the financial wherewithal to explore all of their interests
3. Their interests often conflict with other interests (time-wise).

It is probably time to re-read How to Talk so Kids Will Listen and Listen so Kids Will Talk — and find out what comes after that!

20120918-233631.jpg(credit: booksandbones.com)

Conversations with Homeschoolers

After last week’s post about the ridiculous conversation I overheard between public school moms, here’s two conversations between homeschool moms in which one of the moms acts like a nincompoop (hint: I’m in both conversations)

 

Friday was Cary Homeschoolers’ annual Not Back to School Park Potluck. Last year, I was miserable. This year, merely moronic.

Incident One

Me, to acquaintance I hadn’t seen in a while: “So, what are your kids doing this year?”
I was expecting to hear things like, a science co-op or Odyssey of the Mind.

She <beaming>: “Oh! We start at 8:00am and go til 3:00pm, at their desks. I could start earlier than 8:00AM, but I like to get in a run on the treadmill while they’re eating breakfast and getting dressed. First is math, then language arts, a writing prompt and journaling. Then we study history and geography. After a quick break for lunch we do Latin and Greek, then math drills. They’re also also learning Spanish and Mandarin. Three afternoons a week they take science classes — physics and biology. There’s also Tae Kwon Do and gymnastics in the afternoons. And swim practice. My son wants to take guitar lessons, but there just isn’t enough time in the day!”

Me: “Wow… how old are they, again?” (I literally was struck dumb, I couldn’t think of anything else to say.)

She: “Nine and Eleven.” <Beams again> “They just love it!”

Me: “So did the Branch Davidians!”

(Flickr: Brennan Moore)

And incident two, with a different mom –

Me: “So I keep suggesting to my neighbor that she join CHS. She’s homeschooling, but she won’t join, for some reason.”

(For the record, CHS is a large, open organization that’s basically comprised of a giant email loop. It’s free, and you can be as involved — or uninvolved — as you want.)

She <noncommittal> “Hmmm.”

Me: “I wonder if it’s because she’s LDS. You know, when she told me she was LDS (which happened after we discussed Cub Scouts; LDS boys do Cub Scouts through their church) all I could think was, Sacred Undergarments! Sacred Undergarments! Stop thinking about Sacred Undergarments! Sacred Undergarments!”

She: “I’m LDS.”

Me: Sacred Undergarments! Sacred Undergarments! Sacred Undergarments! “I’m not thinking of sacred undergarments right now.”

This is not what I was thinking of. (Flickr: Ephemeral Scraps)

I’m actually twelve and despite the fact that I attended public school for 17 years, I’m very poorly socialized!

Unsocialized Schoolers

Conversation I overheard between two moms while at Tae Kwon Do:

Mom 1: My child has to walk up four flights of stairs to get to his classroom!
Mom 2: That’s horrible! Why?
Mom 1: Because they separate each grade and give the grade its own floor.
Mom 2: Oh. That makes sense.
Mom 1: Yes, it prevents the kids of different ages from fraternizing.

First Day of Homeschool (Year Four)

School officially starts for kids in Wake County today (and elsewhere, based on what I’ve seen on Facebook). Animal and Mineral are technically fourth graders

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The Informant is a second grader

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My Masterpiece is a redshirt kindergartner because of her autumn birthday

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And Cousin It is a toddler

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This year we’re joining homeschool 4-H, which is exciting. The kids also do homeschool swimming, gymnastics (girls), tae kwon do (boys) and Navigators USA. The Informant is in Geography Club twice a month and homeschool Girl Scouts is starting this year too (not sure about that; we may be overscheduled). The boys have a DnD group once or twice a month that’s made up of little mini-nerds.

As far as school goes, I usually default to unschooling, but after four years of doing this, I can see where my kids need some work. My feelings about homeschooling are that you have to do it for a while before you get the hang of your kids and how they learn. Some kids are really self-motivated and unschooling or child-directed learning is best. Some kids need more school-at-home.

Animal, Mineral and The Informant need practice with their writing and so we’re going to use Handwriting Without Tears (which Mineral’s OT uses) for writing. Mineral and The Informant need practice reading out loud, so I use Aesop fables or something else that’s more like a “living-book” from the library. Animal needs to read fluently, period. I’ll use anything for that. The boys and I will finish Singapore Math from last year and start the second Life of Fred math book. And if I’m feeling motivated we’ll all finish last year’s History Odyssey. In between I also teach some basic grammar for language arts.

I recently read something about the brain being able to focus clearly for only 15 minutes at a time, so I try to do quick lessons.

Then we can get back to the business of living life and learning all the time.

Memorial Day 2012

One of the advantages to homeschooling the kids is that I get to re-learn things that I probably learned back in school but have since completely forgotten. Like Memorial Day.

For years, I thought of Memorial Day only as the holiday that immediately followed my birthday, rendering my birthday weekend quiet as many of my friends and family went out of town for reasons which had nothing to do with my birthday, a fact which I found totally ridiculous.

I may have been a little self-absorbed as a younger person. I was an only child!

The Informant saw this picture and said, “Look! It’s me!”

Now I know in more detail what is Memorial Day. Memorial Day honors those who have died in Military service to the United States.

Off the top of my head, I do not know anyone personally who died in Military service. All three of my grandfathers served in the military (my maternal grandfather who died when I was a teenager; the only grandfather I knew; and my paternal grandfather). Pa, My Chemical Romance’s grandpa, served, as well as his other grandfather who just passed away. Pa knew men who died. I am sure my brother-in-law, Nathan, who served in the Marines and is now a reservist in the Army, knows people who died.

I’m sure that many people I know from my former life in Yuma, Arizona — home of Marine Corps Air Station Yuma — know fallen servicemen and women.

In honor of Memorial Day, we’re going to go to the Vietnam Veteran’s memorial at the State Capital, as well as the  Veteran’s cemetery in Raleigh to honor some of our fallen veterans.

(Credit: Flickr/carlwwycoff)

Have a wonderful Memorial Day, whatever you are doing!

Weekend Recap and Five Kid Guilt

This weekend I was at Miss Manners’ house with Cousin It, while My Chemical Romance was home with the rest of the crew. It was a jam-packed weekend which included dinner at my favorite restaurant on Friday evening, Cowfish, while Cousin It stayed with a babysitter. That part was kind of amusing — she was with a sitter I’d never met, but I’ve known her on Facebook for two years. So, really, Mark Zuckerberg babysat Cousin It, at least by proxy. She knows most of the Jugs personally — but had never met ME in person. She has one-year-old twins and a four year old — and an 18-year-old — so I knew she would be fine with yet another small child in her presence. And she was, and Cousin It did great, and we brought her back some Cowfish and everything was fantastic and the moon was in Mercury anterograde and life was awesome.

I looooove Cowfish. It’s a great restaurant, especially if you’re somewhat picky AND you have friends who are somewhat adventurous. They serve burgers and sushi. Everyone wins. I finally got to meet Stitches’ new baby, Mini-Stitches (so… Cross-Stitch?) and Nice-Nice’s new baby, Doesn’t-Give-Aide. They are so cute! They squeak! They nurse 24/7! They do not make my uterus long for the precious precious days of yore. I kind of still feel like I’m in the precious precious days of yore.

Image

at Cowfish!

Oh, wait, Nice-Nice wasn’t at Cowfish. Well, I met Doesn’t-Give-Aide the next night at Jugs. 

Saturday morning was Great Strides, the walk benefiting the Cystic Fibrosis Foundation. I did not walk because of my butt pain, but I went out there in support. Stitches and her family, Lady Beaver of the Syllables, Prom Queen and Miss Manners walked. Miss Manners pushed Cousin It in the stroller, so I sat in Starbucks by myself for an hour. Saturday afternoon, I took a three-hour nap with Cousin It. It was delicious. In the evening we had Game Night, in which we mostly sat around and cooed over the squishy, cutely-squeaking babies and played all of one game. That’s okay. I miss everyone so much; I can play games anytime.

Sunday Miss Manners and I hung out. She was working on her spreadsheet for a homeschool field trip she was organizing, and I was feeling bad that I rarely take my kids to do things, or participate in things like that. You see, I have five kids. See?

Clockwise from bottom left: Mineral, The Informant, My Masterpiece, Animal and Cousin It.

And someone is always napping, or needing a nap, or hungry or whatever and every organized activity gets in the way of someone’s schedule. I am really grateful we were able to do weekly co-op. Also, we have no money. With Mineral being gluten-free, and the fact that we eat organic, our monthly food bill is approximately the same as our (totally exorbitant) rent.

One of the reasons I want to homeschool is so that my kids can experience fun, non-school activities and we rarely do those activities. Miss Manners immediately said, “But they’re getting a chance to experience childhood, and that’s important too.”

And I was like, OH! DUH! RIGHT! THAT’S IMPORTANT TOO.

And then I felt much better. My kids may not get to go on homeschool field trips or participate in many co-ops (Raleigh is TEEMING with homeschool co-ops; they’re everywhere), but they get to color and build things and jump on the trampoline and cook and do errands with me and spend time with their siblings and me and read. And that counts too.

An Incident That Warmed My Frozen Heart

Just after we moved here, I attended a homeschool kick-off party for a large umbrella homeschool organization. The event was held at a park, in early September, and I was wearing Cousin It — who hadn’t slept well the night before — in an Ergo. I was tired and sticky from the humidity.

And of course, friendless and utterly lonely. I had been away from my Jugs for two weeks at that point, and I missed them terribly. Other than my next-door neighbor, I didn’t know anyone.

At the party, my kids were all running around and talking to other kids, making friends. I envied them. I wish adults could get to know each other by playing games together. Instead  we make small talk.

One thing I always tell myself when I feel bad (physically or emotionally or whatever) is that in time I’ll feel better. At the party, I tried telling myself that but it didn’t work — I actually thought I might cry instead. Just as I was about to make a break for a quiet shady spot where I could weep in peace–

– a woman asked me to sit with her during lunch.

zomg, thank you!

I don’t think she had any idea that I was beginning to have a complete meltdown. I had sunglasses on, so I don’t think she could have seen me getting teary. And honestly, after eating lunch with her, I wasn’t so sure that I even wanted to be friends with her. She was kind of annoying. But at that moment, I was so grateful.

Maya Angelou said, ‎People may not remember exactly what you did, or what you said, but they will always remember how you made them feel.

The mom who invited me to sit and have lunch with her made me feel good.

Mom is not a Homemaker

It’s almost tax time, and yet another year passes in which I “don’t work,” or, oddly enough, work as a “homemaker.” The word homemaker, to me, conjures images of a mom wearing a red checkered gingham apron. That image reminds me of a picnic basket, and then I wander off in search of some leftover food my kids didn’t finish at lunch because I’m suddenly hungry.

Really it’s my kids who are homemakers. The Informant especially — she draws pictures and tapes them to the walls. I sleep under this

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There are pictures all over the walls in her room too.

The kids also make the home because of all their STUFF. One would assume from the contents of our home that there are definitely a bunch of kids; whether or not there’s a mom is questionable. Wouldn’t the house be more clean if there were a mom around?

Since having surgery I’m supposed to be entirely indisposed, although I might make an appearance downstairs when I get bored of my room. From this vantage point, I can see what I actually do as a mom: a little of everything. Thus My Chemical Romance is having a hard time filling in for me. When I say, “take the kids to Costco to pick up Cheerios,” I actually mean, “make sure the diaper bag has a clean diaper in it, and that My Masterpiece’s shoes fit. Remind the boys to brush their teeth and wear weather-appropriate clothes. Get another package or eight of butt wipes, and buy the kids a hot dog after shopping — but only if the samples were gross and they’re still hungry. Check if the Costco gas is cheaper than the station near our house and maybe top off my gas tank. While you’re on that side of town, stop by the car alarm place to find out about resetting your button settings. Oh, and get some vinegar. And be home in time for naps!”

These things go without saying in my mind.

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So I’m allegedly indisposed; I am supposed to be resting and taking pain medication but the kids keep knocking on the door and insisting they need me for something. And of course Cousin It gets nursies whenever she wants. And My Masterpiece gets covered with her blanket (by me, of course).

Sunday afternoon, My Chemical Romance is leaving for a work trip. I’m nervous about solo-parenting only three days after surgery. I’m still in a lot of pain, even if the pain medication helps take my mind off it. I’m hoping that I’m feeling 10000x better by the time he leaves.

Meanwhile, I take some satisfaction in the idea that according to salary.com, based on my job as a mom, I should make over $100k/year!

Why I Homeschool (and You Don’t)

Believe it or not, I am not particularly confrontational about the “weird” parenting stuff I do. Homebirth, intact boys (not circumcising), nursing on cue, supplementing with donor milk rather than formula, cosleeping, not vaccinating… those are the right decisions for my family. Homeschooling is a fairly hot button topic because I talk about it on Facebook and in parenting forums, and also, like, DUH, I’m out in the world with my kids who aren’t in school. Everyone seems to have an opinion about it.

The decision to homeschool is different than the decision to have a homebirth; it’s more of a long-term process rather than a YES or NO thing. I’m constantly evaluating and re-evaluating how it’s going and what I’m doing right and wrong. However, for all my insecurities about what I’m doing, I am going to continue homeschooling.

Why do you homeschool?

I do not like packing lunches. I do not like getting up early. I do not like doing homework. I do not like mandatory meetings with staff. I want to be my childrens’ teacher. I want to spend time with them. I want to teach them important life skills that I missed in 17 years of public education. I want to shelter them. I believe they learn better from my instruction than from one teacher with twenty or thirty students. I want to teach them a different way. I do not think they need eight or nine hours of instruction. I want them to enjoy their childhoods. I do not want them to become institutionalized. I want to give them options. I want them to experience the real world, not being in a building for many hours a day. I want them to socialize with people of all ages, not just their own 12-month-birthday span. I like to stay in my pajamas. I like being able to go to museums when they’re empty during the week rather than crazy on the weekends. I want them to learn to cook. And do laundry. And clean. I want them to know how to calculate mortgage costs. I want them to understand that education is a privilege. I want them to figure out what they want to do, what they like and don’t like, rather than blindly follow a set path. I like to print things.

But my children go to public school and they’re XYZ! and they’re NOT abc! 

How nice for you. Congratulations. My decision to homeschool my children has nothing to do with you or your children. Please do not take it personally or we are going to have some issues in our relationship. Because, honestly, it gets old explaining why public school is perfectly fine and why you and your children are lovely special snowflakes but I’m still going to homeschool mine (who are also perfectly fine — mostly — and lovely special snowflakes too). When it comes to school, I do not care what you and your children do.

I find it so obnoxious that people question homeschoolers when I’d never dream of saying to my friends who send their kids to school, “But don’t you worry that all they know how to do is TAKE TESTS?!?!?! Don’t you worry that they have no critical thinking skills!!! In the real world, they’re going to have to make decisions for themselves; how will they learn that in public school?!?!” I’m sure most kids will find their way,whether they learn at school or at home. And if you tell me that you have absolutely no patience for your children, yes, it is probably better that you don’t homeschool them. Jeez.

What about when they’re in higher grades? What about calculus? How will they go to college? How can you teach them Spanish? 

I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know if they will. I will teach them French.

You’re holding them back! They’re going to work in tollbooths!

First of all, I don’t think tollbooths actually employ workers anymore. Second of all, I think I’m helping them. If they are not ambitious, I do not want to spend $40,000 on higher education — or have them take out $40,000 in loans. If they are ambitious, they will discover that I can only take them so far, but I’ll help them find other ways to learn. If they want to be some kind of skilled worker, that’s okay.

Here is where I feel it turns into a class warfare thing.

I grew up in an upper middle class neighborhood in Michigan. Everyone went to college. I mean everyone. (Also, nobody got pregnant. Nobody. Either everyone was too scared to have sex, everyone was smart enough to be on birth control or abortions were rampant.) So, I went to college like everyone, had no idea what I want to “do” with my life, got my bachelor’s degree in psychology and creative writing and… ***crickets.*** Yes, I have my education and nobody can ever take it away from me, but a bachelor’s degree in psychology and creative writing is about as helpful as… a bachelor’s degree in sociology or humanities. And yet, I was expected to go to college, and people expect my children to go to college. It’s taken me a long time to get away from that attitude, but with the economy in shambles and the cost of education rising, I’m okay if my kids don’t go to college.

And that is all I’m going to say about that. For now, at least.

A blog about hating blogs and bloggers!

Did you know there was such a gem in the interwebz?

I found it after hearing from Miss Manners that a VERY popular blogger is getting divorced. I immediately googled for further clarification (since Miss Manners said she’d read it another blog) and found that all of the original blogger’s haters have gathered in one helpful spot to complain about her — and about every other blogger who has sponsorship — at Get Off My Internets.

An aside: I have no idea what went on in her marriage. From what she wrote online, I’m pretty surprised that she’s getting divorced — although it did seem that she spent a lot of time on her own personal endeavors. I can only speak to my own marriage, and I purposely don’t write much about that. I’ve tried, and it sounds like I’m being smug or I’m whining about stuff that every married person whines about — either way, that’s boring.

(Flickr/Miss_Millions)

Anyway, once I got past the shock of the divorce, I got this feeling in the pit of my stomach, like when you think your jeans are really really awesome, but it turns out that high-waisted acid-washed denim pants with pegged ankles are no longer cool, thinking that someone somewhere on GOMI was talking about my blog and me!

I searched. Nothing. I googled my name and GOMI. Nothing. I googled my blog and GOMI. Nothing. And then…

DISAPPOINTED FLOWER (Flickr/Sunsets_for_you)

Jeez. Nobody’s even saying anything BAD about me!

But wait, they’re complaining about mommy bloggers in general:

You know what all the most popular mommy bloggers seem to have in common?  They are all so freakin privileged.  They all have the money and time to put into making their lives picture perfect.  They can afford to be picky about the type of food they feed their children, the clothes they wear, the way they decorate their homes, what type of birth they’ll have, etc. etc, etc.

YOU ARE ALL SO OUT OF TOUCH.  You think the world revolves around sponsors and how many pretty ModCloth outfits you can wear all while pushing your children in the most expensive strollers and acting like life’s a bitch half the time and everything’s coming up roses the other half.  The overposed “candid” family photos.  The organic/vegan food.  The perfect pregnancies with minimal weight gain so you can still maintain that mommyrexia look afterwards. I don’t care how hard you’ve worked for your blog or your job or your family…you still don’t understand what the average mom goes through.  Because the average mom just doesn’t look like you…doesn’t act like you…and from my experience, doesn’t even care half as much as what you seem to care about the stupidest stuff.

At first I thought, “How dare you? I am not privileged!”

But then I thought, “Well, I guess I’m a little privileged.”

(credit:??? some meme on the interwebz)

  • I get to stay home with my kids. Although, to be honest, it’s not entirely a choice: I have only a Bachelor’s degree (in Creative Writing), so there’s nothing financially worthwhile for me to “do” that would even cover day-care bills. Still, even if I had more education (and/or experience) I can’t think of anything I’d rather do than stay home with my kids. Other than write.
  • I homeschool — without much complaining from My Chemical Romance, even though we both went through 17 years of public education and he loved every second of it (or so he says). His high school grades earned him a full academic scholarship to a UC school.
  • I have chosen three of my four births — and I probably would have chosen a hospital birth for Animal and Mineral, although probably not an induction at 34 weeks. I paid for My Masterpiece’s and Cousin It’s births out-of-pocket, despite having health insurance (which, itself, makes me privileged).
  • We eat almost exclusively organic. It’s a struggle because it IS expensive, but My Chemical Romance and I are committed to it.

HOWEVER:

  • Have you not seen the pictures I post? My house is hardly perfect. My floors are covered with a fine layer of dust, clean underwear (Cousin It’s favorite toy), Legos, rubber bands, paper and crayons. And dirt. And mud. (I could go on for a long time with everything in which my floors are covered.)
  • I would love a fancy stroller for when Cousin It gets a little bigger and doesn’t want to be carried in a Boba all the time. I don’t see it happening though — fancy strollers are really expensive. I do have a Britax stroller that I got when I did a car seat study for them.
  • What is ModCloth? Do they sell 8-short or 10-short jeans that are slightly higher waisted than the ridiculous low-rider denim outfits that would hardly cover my dog’s butt-crack? Because that’s really all I think about when I’m looking for jeans. I do not have a single pair of jeans that I’ve purchased — my favorite pair used to belong to Miss Manners and I have a couple pairs from my mom, who is now skinnier than me.
  • My mom is now skinnier than me. I am hardly mommyrexic!

See my table? It always looks like that.

It is true that the average mom doesn’t act like me. That’s okay. I’m totally okay with that. On one hand, yes, I’m awesome. On the other hand, the average mom doesn’t have five kids, so there’s no way to compare me to anyone else. I hope that most of the time I’m relatively sane, but I do cop to moments of total insanity. I yell too much, sometimes. I’m too permissive, other times. There is a lot of stuff on my floors. That’s okay too.

I would love some sponsors! I spent like $15 of my own money on MY GIVEAWAY which ends on February 29 at 11:59PM (est). Have you entered yet?

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