Critters?!

Critters is our family's byword today. But before I go into that...

Are you aware that the maximum speed limit in Illinois is 65mph? And that police are allowed to sit on the side of the road, hidden from view, while they clock people?

We didn't know these things, either.

In all honesty, I don't really understand the way police in Texas who have a speed trap must make themselves visible to the people they are trying to catch. However, I don't have to understand to appreciate.

In any case, my husband was pulled over at midnight as we made our way to Chicago. Here is a fairly close transcript of the event with my husband's thoughts, as explained to me after the fact, in brackets.

Officer: You were driving 82mph.

Husband: Oh. [Yeah, I know. Had the cruise control set. Just gimme my ticket.]

Officer: The maximum speed limit in IL is 65mph.

Both of Us: 65??

Officer (defensively): There are signs all over the place.

Husband: Okay. [Saw the signs, didn't care. Gimme my ticket.]

Seeming to hear my husband's unspoken request, the officer presented him with his ticket.

And now comes the part of the conversation that I still find baffling. My husband, out of the blue, started asking about construction zones, mentioning that he'd seen speed limit signs for 65mph posted at construction zones since we entered the state and wondering if 65mph was only the maximum speed in construction zones. The officer seemed confused but he tried to answer the questions. Finally my husband came right out and asked if we were in a construction zone. At this point, I saw something I'd never seen before. I watched in horrified amusement as the officer took another look at my husband, taking in, I'm sure, the Tractor Supply cap that he was wearing, hearing the Texas drawl that my husband had obtained at some point since we'd left Dallas, and re-evaluated my husband's intelligence. Hayseed, none to bright, seemed to be his new conclusion.

I'd like to defend my husband here. We had, after all, been on the road since 8am and we were exhausted. Furthermore, Texas has a law that states that all tickets recieved in construction zones had the fine doubled, and he was wondering just how bad this ticket would be.

Yes, I'd really like to defend my husband. However, since there was neither orange cone nor orange sign anywhere near us, nor had we seen such things in some time, I can't. In fact, I myself, through my laughter, called him Hayseed the rest of the way to Chicago. As it earned me a number of smacks with the previously mentioned Tractor Supply hat, I've decided that my husband shall henceforth be known as Roscoe in this blog entry.

So after the ritual signing of the ticket...

Officer: What I need from you now is for you to slow down. We have critters.

Roscoe (incredulous): Critters?! [Critters?!]

Officer: Yes, critters. Sometimes they get out on the road.

Roscoe: Critters?

Officer: Yes, like deer and cows. Critters.

Critters. Who knew?

Children of the Mind

This book was much sappier than the others in the Ender's Game series. It was so sweet, in fact, that I think it's to blame for my toothache. It was an okay book, though, even though it didn't live up to the others.

Of course, I should be in bed rather than finishing, and blogging about, Children of the Mind since we're supposed to leave the house in 4 and a half hours. However, my youngest child respects neither his father's timetable nor his mother's beauty sleep.

Adventures with Nitrous Oxide

Do you watch Jimmy Neutron? There was one episode where Jimmy decided he didn't want to be a boy genius, so he invented a device to make himself normal. Of course, in the way of cartoons and sitcoms, it didn't work properly; Jimmy became quite dumb. Jimmy spent a good portion of that episode dancing around and singing, "I'm loopy, I'm loopy, I'm loopy."

Nitrous oxide seems to have a similar effect on me. I discovered this years ago when I had wisdom teeth removed. The assistant watched my fidgeting foot to determine my level of relaxation. It rather surprised her when I began laughing hysterically even though my foot had never stopped moving.

Today, I had an emergency dental appointment after spending yesterday and last night in a lot of pain. I warned the dentist and his assistant that N₂O makes me laugh. And it did--within a minute or two, I was laughing so hysterically that I heard the echoing laughter of the assistants in the office every time I had another spell.

And then I cried. The dentist gave me the shot to deaden my mouth, but it still hurt for a long time after. So I cried like a baby about that.

And then I got nasty. When the work began and I yelped, the dentist told me to breathe deeply, that he wanted to hear me laughing again. I told him, "Quit hurting my damn tooth, and I might." A couple of deep breaths and his shocked chuckle had me giggling again.

I told them that my ear hurt so badly that I understood why van Gogh cut his off. I told them that my fingers were fat (which they're not, but they felt fat). I counted in Latin when the dentist paused for a moment. I asked the dentist if he'd ever broken anyone's jaw.

"I'm loopy, I'm loopy, I'm loopy."

This is how I spent my day instead of driving to Chicago. So tomorrow, we're off to see the wizard. Come to think of it, I think I saw him today, too.

Traveling with Small Children

As we prepare to go to Chicago for our house hunting trip tomorrow, I can't help but remember previous trips with our children...

The last time we all stayed in a hotel together, our middle son was almost 2 years old and our oldest son was almost 6 years old.The boys had been wandering around the room as my husband and I got everything situated.

The baby toddled over to Daddy and began to pat his face. My husband suddenly asked him, "Er, why are your hands wet?"

Our older son, without bothering to look up, replied, "Oh, he's been playing in the toilet."

Ender's Children

So I decided to try Speaker for the Dead, which is the sequel to Ender's Game. I almost put it down after the first couple of chapters. Those chapters disturbed me the last time I read these books, too. However, I picked it back up just to read a little further and got sucked right into the story--so much so that I've finished it and the next book, Xenocide. This morning I started last book, Children of the Mind.

I find these books to be a bit deeper than Ender's Game, which is probably why I didn't care for them as much years ago. It's interesting to re-read a book after a span of years. It makes me wonder if I will still find them deep or if I will have outgrown them by the time I pick them up again. Most likely, I won't notice much of a difference--I'm enjoying them enough this time that I doubt I'll wait years before I read them again.

But if nothing else, these books are helping to put things in perspective--to the best of my knowledge, no one is currently on their way to my planet to blow it up. Kind of makes my frustrations with this move seem rather shallow, doesn't it? :D Well, perhaps not. But they are keeping me entertained while I try to forget how frustrated I am. I'll take what I can get.

Negotiations Between Mars and Venus

Venus: If you will try to put things in the kitchen where they belong, I will try not to get angry when you occasionally put things in the wrong place and I can't find them.

Mars: Then it's a deal.

The Thoughts Behind the Words

Venus: Look, dolt, can you not see that all the bowls are in this cabinet?

Mars: Stuff a sock in it, you nagging harpy. At least I'm trying to help.

Alien Apocalypse

My husband wanted to watch a movie last night on television, one that had good cheesy movie potential. It was Alien Apocalypse starring Bruce Campbell.

And as we all know, Bruce Campbell is the King of Cheese. (If you don't know this, then you've obviously led a sad and sheltered life.)

It was a Bruce Campbell double feature which started with Army of Darkness. Now that is an awesome cheesy movie. The twisted plot, the trite lines... I'm not truly a huge fan of the cheesy movie (dumb yes, cheesy no; there's a difference, but I can't explain it), but I really like Army of Darkness. Who can resist a movie about a store clerk transported back in time to fight the undead? (Well, I suppose a lot of people can, but luckily, that's not the point...) I'll admit that the beginning is a bit gory for my personal tastes, but we only caught the end of it this time. By the end, it's lost any vestige of horror and fully embraced the cheesy genius that is Bruce Campbell.

And perhaps it was that contrast which made Alien Apocalypse such a disappointment.

No, on second thought, Alien Apocalypse just sucked.

The lines were just completely stupid (as opposed to dumb or cheesy). And it seemed like Bruce took the whole thing way too seriously, as if he thought he actually had a good script this time. Usually he seems to revel in the pure cheesiness. But this movie had entirely too much plot, which is definitely a hindrance to a good cheesy movie. Having a plot leads to having big gaping holes in the plot which leads to less reveling and more thinking about just how stupid the plot is.

It was, in fact, so bad that even my husband changed the channel before it was over. And he even bought Bubba Ho-Tep on DVD and watched it all the way to the end... twice.

Martial Law Declared in a Small Texas Town

Martial law was declared today in a small town just outside of Dallas, Texas. So far, it is limited to a single household. However, this could change at any time.

KathyJo, a 34 year old homeschooling mother, is responsible for declaring martial law. For the past week, reports say that her older two children have been waking the baby from his nap. "The baby needs his sleep," she commented. "Without a good nap, he makes the evening hours misery."

The children in question were sent to their room as soon as the baby was asleep with the admonition to play, read a book, or do whatever they wanted as long as they did it quietly.

They were further informed that children do not die from remaining silent for more than 2 minutes.

There was some public outcry. The 4 year old was quoted as saying, "But I don't want to go to my woom." The 8 year old refused to comment, but it must be noted that he acted rather sulky about the matter.

Their mother was quoted as saying, "Whatever laws rule the country, our household is a dictatorship. A loving one, but a dictatorship nonetheless." She further noted that she foresees nap-time martial law lasting for a long time to come.

The Game

It's been a number of years since I read Ender's Game. If I remember correctly, it was about 4 years ago. At the time, I certainly noticed the ages of the children in the book and thought about how young they were. Now, however, I'm looking at Ender in the beginning of the book and thinking about how he's younger than my oldest son. It definitely puts a different perspective on the book for me.

I think one of the most disturbing parts of this book is how the children all strive to be miniature adults. There's no play, no tears, no depending on the adults in the school. They deal with all problems in the best way they know how because they've learned that they can't count on anyone else.

Now, even I won't go so far as to say the public school system is as bad as Battle School in Ender's world. However, to a lesser degree, I see some of the same attitudes, and the same results, among public schooled children. Entry into daycare at earlier and earlier ages pushes children to become more independent sooner. The push to be cool among peers leads to a false veneer of maturity. Normal childhood playing stops at an earlier age these days to be replaced by video games and an interest in topics that are better left for those who have the emotional maturity to handle them. I see children who are angry, jaded, and cynical by the time they're 16 years old.

And I see comments about how homeschoolers just want to protect their children, and I never understand why this is seen as a bad thing.

Pass Me a Snickers

I have a friend who's lost 50 pounds recently. She says if any more of it comes off her bust, her husband may sue.

The only time I ever have respectable sized boobs, I also have a newborn attached to them. Several days after the birth of a child, the boob fairy arrives and does a number on me that would make a Los Angeles plastic surgeon proud. I find this pretty cruel after the way she ignored me during my teenage years. When does she finally get around to me? When I have a belly to match.

These days, I think I have about 10-15 pounds of unnecessary Kathy riding casually around my stomach and hips. I'm in the She-Looks-Good-For-Having-Three-Kids category. And if I lose any of this weight, part of it will depart from my bustline, despite the fact that I'd prefer to keep that part.

This is natural; it's the way our bodies work. But ours is not a society that celebrates the natural female form. Instead, I see two body types held up as examples of how women should look: the top-heavy Barbie doll and the shapeless 12 year old boy. Through plastic surgery and starvation diets, these body types are attainable, but certainly not just the natural way of things for the average woman.

But I'll admit that what I really detest are all the new diet plans and weight loss gadgets that help people lose weight without pesky details like changing the type and/or amount of food you eat or squeezing some exercise into your busy schedule. Just buy our product, and continue to eat and live as you please.

Why is our society obssessed with the quick fix to the point of ignoring both common sense and healthy habits? The person who loses weight without changing the habits that caused the weight problem will soon be back in the same fix, as studies have shown repeatedly. And yet the diet industry flourishes. Wear this gadget and lose inches. Order our special food to lose weight--we even have chocolate cake. You won't keep the weight off, but that's okay; it just means we'll get more of your money later on.

Bookshelf

I often see these on the blogs of classical homeschooling moms, and they always make me feel slightly guilty. I read entirely too much junk. It's almost the reader's equivalent of watching soap operas all day long. But I've been thinking lately that I should change my reading habits somewhat. Not that I plan to give up junk entirely, but it wouldn't hurt if I read an occasional classic, some quality non-fiction, or a thought provoking novel.

So today I started re-reading Ender's Game by Orson Scott Card. Not a classic, perhaps, but it's classic sci-fi, and that's even better. :) And it's definitely a thought provoking book. I'm not sure how much of the series that I'll re-read. In truth, the only two that I really loved were Ender's Game and Ender's Shadow, although some of the changes in Ender's Shadow are annoying. I don't understand authors; if an author wants to write a story that happens simultaneously with another book (what do you call that, anyway?), he could at least not change the original story. But I digress. I did enjoy the trilogy that follows Ender's Game, even though it barely feels related to the original. However, I was less impressed with the books that followed Ender's Shadow.

I've been, very slowly, working my way through The Screwtape Letters by C. S. Lewis. I grab it occasionally and read a chapter or two. I've come to realize that I really don't care for the style in which this one was written, and that's why I'm having a hard time reading it. I'll continue reading it because C. S. Lewis is just brilliant, but I also want to read Mere Christianity. It's in my basket for our next book order.

Our current read-aloud is Secret of the Andes by Ann Nolan Clark. We're enjoying it, but I have to admit that I prefer our last read-aloud, Walk the World's Rim by Betty Baker.

My 8 year old son is currently working his way through the Harry Potter series for his free reading. He's currently on Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. I have to say that I'm impressed. I know he reads well for his age, but I didn't realize until recently exactly how advanced his reading is. It's a good feeling considering how terrified I was at the thought of teaching him to read.

My 4 year old son is not ready for reading yet, although he's learned the sounds of a few letters. We'll continue with that until he's ready for blending sounds. In the meantime, one of us reads to him. His current favorite stories are We're Going on a Bear Hunt by Michael Rosen and Where the Wild Things Are by Maurice Sendak. And, of course, we all still love Goodnight Moon by Margaret Wise Brown.

My 1 year old son is currently enjoying chewing on the mangled remains of Moo, Baa, La La La by Sandra Boynton. This is the third or fourth copy of this book we've had over the past 8 years. Not that it matters since I've had it memorized for a very long time. However, the boys do still enjoy looking at the pictures while I recite it. I suppose it's time to buy a new copy.

Two days down...

and three to go. My husband should get home on Saturday morning. Lord willing, we'll have a nice weekend here before we head to Chicago on Monday to house hunt.

I think he's decided that we're driving to Chicago. I have mixed feelings about that. One the one hand, I haven't flown on a plane since I was 2 years old, and I rather like it like that. On the other hand, our drive from South Carolina when we moved back to Texas was no bed of roses. The baby is older now, but not so much that his attitude towards long car trips has improved overmuch.

My baby is 15 months old, and about to move to his third state. Each of our boys was born in a different state capitol. People say we move too much, but I think we'll know when we get to the place where we should settle down for a while. Odd, but we both thought that's what we were doing when we moved back to Texas. And yet, Texas really isn't home anymore. It's like going to visit your mom after you've lived on your own for a while. Things are familiar, and you're glad to see everyone, but it's good to get back to your own place when the visit is over. It's been a nice visit, and I know I'll miss living so close to my family. At the same time, there's a part of me that's happy we're moving on. Home is whatever temporary abode that houses my husband and our boys. For now, that's enough.

Lord, I ask that you bring my husband home safely to us, and watch over us in his absence.

The Braying of an Ass

When you hear the braying of an ass, there's really nothing you can do except try to ignore it. Although an ass can be both loud and stubborn, its intelligence is limited and its braying makes no sense, so it's pointless to try to argue.

Unintelligent Design

If you happen to agree with this author, and you'd like to leave a comment telling me about it, please, feel free. Just begin the comment with, "Ee Aw."

Man of His Times

We started a book about the Aztecs today. I asked my son, "You know about the Aztecs' sacrifices, don't you?"

"Yeah," he replied. "I read it in another book."

"Will it bother you to read about it or hear about it?" I asked. He's often a very sensitive child, so I wasn't sure what to make of his nonchalance.

He looked confused. "No, it's just something they did," he told me. "It was wrong, but it's just something that they did. They believed it was what their gods wanted."

He amazes me. He can recognize that what they did was wrong by our beliefs, and yet not judge them by our beliefs. He understands that their actions, however wrong we feel they were, were a result of their own belief system. If I had to choose one goal for the study of history, this would be it.

I think teaching history can be very tricky. I see the two extremes often enough. One side will demonize the Aztecs for their human sacrifices and other actions we see as atrocities. The other side will rhapsodize over their architecture, their labor system, and their agriculture while ignoring the less pleasant aspects of their culture. Neither gives us a good picture of who the Aztecs were.

These attitudes are apparent in the study of any time period. Was a famous conqueror a bloodthirsty lunatic, or the savior of his people? Maybe he, like most of us, was simply a man of his times doing the best he could. And maybe even people in his own times thought he was mad as a hatter.

Of course, it's easier to take such a dispassionate view when learning about ancient history. It gets harder as we look at our recent past and learn about cultures that still exist in the world, as we look at the generations of our parents and grandparents and think, "Why couldn't they see that what they were doing was wrong?" But unfortunately, we often don't see our own mistakes, even as we're quick to note those of others.

My own extended family is quite racially diverse these days. My little brother coined the phrase BMW Family to describe us--Black, Mexican, and White. My great-grandfather would be horrified. He firmly believed that people of different races shouldn't mix. He did not hate people of other races in his community, nor did they appear to hate him. But he definitely believed that they should remain separate.

My great-grandfather was half Cherokee. I wonder sometimes how he viewed his own mixed heritage through the microscope of his beliefs. Were his beliefs because of his mixed heritage, or in spite of it? Or, having been raised by a white father in a predominantly white community, was he simply a man of his times doing the best he could?

Poof!

"The argument goes something like this: 'I refuse to prove that I exist,' says God, 'for proof denies faith, and without faith I am nothing.'

"'But,' says Man, 'the Babel fish is a dead giveaway, isn't it? It could not have evolved by chance. It proves you exist, and so therefore, by your own arguments, you don't. QED.'

"'Oh dear,' says God, 'I hadn't thought of that,' and promptly vanishes in a puff of logic."

-- Douglas Adams, The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy

Atheism is a belief system. The dictionary defines it as:
"1a) Disbelief or denial of the existence of God or gods;
b) The doctrine that there is no God or gods."

There has been a recent push by Christians to include intelligent design in public school curricula. In a recent article in the Chicago Sun-Times, Intelligent design fails science test, the author states, "This current push is about power, about confidence in the wake of the re-election of a deeply Christian president. Being buoyant is fine, but it shouldn't mean school science courses veer toward Christian doctrine."

In other words, atheism is a belief system, and it's the only one that some people believe should be allowed in the public school system.

I don't consider this a simple power struggle. I believe it's a bloody war that has been fought since our compulsory education system barred God at the door of the public schools and declared science sacrosanct.

Atheism is a belief system, and it's the only one that is allowed within our public schools. By teaching only the theory of evolution and completely ignoring any mention of God or intelligent design, the public schools support atheism. By teaching that evolution just happens, the public schools teach that there is no God.

Poof! God vanishes in a puff of logic.

Although my personal point of view is very definitely Christian, this is not just a Christian matter. Christianity is not the only religion in this country, after all. Other religions also have a deity (or deities) whose existence is denied by the public schools. This battle is between believers and non-believers, and currently our public schools are taking sides.

In the article, the author also stated, "But just as we would bristle at Christian Science forcing out school nurses, or a large Amish community banning others from using school buses, so we insist on having a government that protects the rights of all faiths in the spaces where they come together, particularly schools." [emphasis mine]

That's exactly my point.

Contrary to the author's low opinion of the intelligence of Christians, I'm well aware of what the word theory means. I also have a dictionary. The first definition for the word is: "A set of statements or principles devised to explain a group of facts or phenomena, especially one that has been repeatedly tested or is widely accepted and can be used to make predictions about natural phenomena." By definition, evolution and intelligent design can both be described as theories on how life began.

Adding the theory of intelligent design to the public school curricula doesn't say, "There is a God and Jesus is His son; go fetch your Bible and follow Him." In fact, it doesn't even focus on the Christian God. It only says, "We acknowledge that there may be a higher being who was involved in creating the world. Your faith is your own and we're not trying to disprove it."

That seems like a good stand for the public schools to take.

Edited to add: If you found this blog entry through the article on About.com, you can see the only response I'm prepared to make here: What have we here?

8 Going-On 80

The boys were watching Dora the Explorer this morning. Dora and Boots were chasing a little rain cloud away with the song, "Rain, Rain, Go Away." My 8 year old son looked at me in disgust and said, "What are they trying to do, create a desert planet? They're not telling the whole story. Plants need rain to live. Where will they get water if it doesn't rain? I don't think they really thought about this."

Note to Self...

Don't take relationship quizzes when your husband has been out of town for two weeks. Oh, my...

Passion - For you two it's all about the passion
and the overwhelming desire to be closer and
closer and to be together against all odds.

The Nature of Your Relationship
brought to you by Quizilla

It's 34°F in Chicago Tonight...

And it feels like 24°F. Here in Dallas, it's 50°F, and it feels like 45°F, according to weather.com. Somehow, the move seems a lot more real when I start considering a 21° drop in how cold it feels outside. I'm shivering just thinking about it.

I wasn't that concerned at first. After all, I survived our one winter in Spokane. And so what if I threatened to punch the next person that dared to tell me how mild the winter was? People ought not go around saying such nasty things to a displaced Texan masquerading as an ice cube.

But I had this idea that by the end of March/early April, Chicago would be getting warmer. And now I'm thinking, what if 34°F is warmer?? Now that is a scary thought. And it certainly didn't help when my husband mentioned that yes, actually, Chicago does get colder than Spokane.

Who knew places could get colder than Spokane??

It would have been easier if we weren't moving until July. A 21° drop in temperature sounds fairly attractive when it's 102°F outside.

It's 33°F and feels like 25°F in Spokane right now. It's 38°F and feels like 33°F in Atlanta, which was one of our other choices for this move. Not much of a difference in any of these places. Of course, that will probably change come next December. By that time, I may be wishing I'd picked Atlanta. I have a friend who said she thought moving to England would be less of a culture shock than moving to the Deep South. After our year and a half in South Carolina, I think I agree, so maybe I won't long for Atlanta after all. Austin, maybe. Austin is very nice in the winter months.

We should be going to Chicago to house hunt the week after next. Highs will be in the low 50s.

Highs here in Dallas will be in the low 70s.

Sure, and It's a Fine Day for a Joke, Laddie

Baby Eating Grass

Apparently, it's not as tasty as you would think.

And I begin to see the point in Latin endings for nouns. Whether I say Baby Eating Grass or Grass Eating Baby, it's really not that clear who's doing the eating.

The Sinful Nature of Blogs

I deleted a blog the day after I wrote it. I didn't consider this a big deal. I had even written in my profile that I was as likely to delete what I'd written previously as I was to write something new. So I was rather shocked when my husband had a hissy fit about me deleting something. I was informed that it was dishonest. :) Luckily, I had saved it as a draft instead of outright deleting it, so I put it back up; it seemed easiest.

I have to admit that I'm unconvinced about the inherent dishonesty of deleting my own words from my own blog. However, it seemed important to my husband, and it costs me nothing to humor him, so I agreed that I wouldn't.

This means, dear reader, that you are stuck with any rambling thought that enters my head at 3am when I can't sleep because I took a well-deserved nap that day. I considered posting his email address so that you could complain directly to him, but I'm afraid that would lead to another hissy fit. *big cheeky grin*

Personal Privacy in the Information Age

It's odd to feel comfortable expressing my thoughts and emotions in a venue where I feel uncomfortable about disclosing my last name or the names of my family. Even in the online communities in which I've participated in the past, it's been a rare occasion when I've mentioned the names of my husband or my children.

People have been calling our current time period the Information Age. It seems that the amount of information that is now freely available to all has caused us to take another look at our definition of personal privacy. Would it matter, after all, if I mentioned my last name, or I talked about my husband and my children by their names? Probably not. But the more information I provide, the more likely it is that someone could find out even more about my family. And so it's not only about being private, it's about being safe. Realistically, the people we see everyday in real life learn these things about us, and we don't think twice about it. But in real life, I feel like I have some control over who is learning about my family. On the web, anyone with an internet connection can view what I write.

I think it's only an illusion of safety, and yet so many of us cling to it anyway. Once we watched the local news of an evening and heard all about the tragedies that happened near our own homes; we heard about tragedies from far away only when they were major tragedies. Now, with internet access to newspapers all over the world and 24 hour news stations on television, we have a constant barrage of tragic events to hear about. Is the world really a scarier place than it used to be, or do we just know more about the happenings in our world than people did in the past? I think it's a bit of both, but it's really a moot point since our reactions in this case have as much of a basis in emotion as they do in reason. And while there are times when it's quite logical to feel fear, fear is never a reasonable emotion.

Our Homeschool... Classically Eclectic?

I don't remember exactly when I first mentioned the possibility of homeschooling to my husband. I believe my oldest son was 2 or 3 years old. I'm not even sure where I'd heard of homeschooling. I do remember my husband's response: "I don't think so." It wasn't encouraging, but he hadn't said no, so over the next couple of years, I shared any information and books I found on the subject. By the time our oldest was ready for Kindergarten, my husband was as strong of a supporter of homeschooling as I was. And these days, he's more likely than I am to offend public school parents if the subject comes up. We've even named our school now. It's the OurLastName Academy for Wayward Boys. :)

The first year we homeschooled, we tried 3 different programs. During this time, I found The Well-Trained Mind by Jessie Wise and Susan Wise Bauer. While I liked some of the ideas, in the end my overall response was, "Yeah, right." However, after my 3 disastrous programs, I began thinking more about the educational philosophies presented in TWTM and less about how overwhelming it appeared at first glance.

The things I like best about The Well-Trained Mind are following a chronological study of history, making both history and literature more relevant by studying them together, and using narration rather than worksheets. My son and I both also love SWB's grammar stage history spines, The Story of the World series.

But however much I like their philosophy, I admit that the implementation is often more difficult than I'd like. Although we are continuing to read SOTW, this year we returned to one of my Kindergarten disasters--Sonlight. In truth, I recognized even at the time that I simply didn't like their Kindergarten program. After looking more closely at their Core 1 and Core 2 programs, I decided that I wouldn't be happy with them, either. However, I find their Cores 3 and up very attractive. Cores 3 and 4 work with TWTM's division of history, so this seemed like a good year to try Sonlight again. So far, we are loving it. My son loves the readers and we both love the read-alouds and history reading. I thought I would hate having to work from someone else's schedule after several years of making my own. Instead, I'm enjoying the time that I save. I also like having all the books arrive in one big box rather than trying to choose which books to buy on which topics and which books to try to get at the library and getting library books reserved, and returned, on time. I really hated all of those things. And while I personally don't care for Sonlight's Language Arts program as a stand alone program, I do like it as a supplementary program to Rod & Staff. My current plan is to complete Core 3, then do Core 4. At that time I'll have a decision to make: Sonlight or a purely chronological study of history. But I've got some time yet to worry about it.

Our other big find for this year is Real Science 4 Kids. This is the best science program for young children that I've ever seen. I feel like my son is ready for a more systematic, logical approach to science, and this is where Sonlight and TWTM have not lived up to my expectations. With RS4K, he's learning much of the science vocabulary, including origins of the words, that will be invaluable in years to come. Each section is meaty, yet short enough to ensure good retention. Overall, I'm feeling like this was one of my better decisions.

We plan to start Latin for Children soon. Unfortunately, with a cross-country move on our horizon, our Latin studies have fallen by the wayside. But we'll probably start it up again soon--my son has been nagging me about it. We have managed to go through our flashcards often enough to retain most of the vocabulary we learned with Prima Latina and Minimus. We also want to add a modern language, but we're having problems choosing. My son is as bad as I am. I gave him a choice between the 5 languages that I'm interested in learning. He responded, "Hmmm... How about we learn all of them?"

And this concludes my State of Our Homeschooling Address.

Truth... Justice... Pizza

We are huge Teen Titans fans around here. My 8yos always loves to play the Which-One-Are-You? game, so this is what we decided for our family.

8 year old son: Beast Boy. This really disappointed him because he likes to think of himself as a Robin. However, he doesn't argue with us about this because he can't hear the word boogers without giggling uncontrollably.

4 year old son: CyBorg. We've been calling him our little tank for the past couple of years. He's quite a tough little guy, and he likes to say, "Boo-Yah!"

1 year old son: Gizmo, the Evil Genius. No cage can hold him, no lock can keep him out of our stuff. Short, bald and mean, he terrorizes our household with his not-so-secret weapon, the Sonic Screech. He's also learned to turn off my computer when I'm in the middle of typing something, then he smiles at me and pats my face while he tells me, "Baby, baby." Once he has my defenses down again, he pokes me in the nose.

Work with Me Here

A old man goes up to his rooftop to pray. "Lord, I know I'm not perfect, but I'm trying to lead a good life and follow Your teachings. I try not to ask for much, but I'm asking now to win the lottery. I'm tired of being poor, and I'd like to have enough money to live out the rest of my life and to help others."

A week later, the old man goes up to his rooftop to pray again. "Lord, I'm asking again to win the lottery. It's not a purely selfish prayer, Lord, for I do intend to help others with the money. I want to live out the remainder of my life without having to worry about money and having plenty to share with others."

The following week, the old man goes up to his rooftop to pray one more time. "Lord, I don't understand. I've been praying faithfully about winning the lottery, but I still haven't."

Suddenly, the old man hears a booming voice say, "Work with me here; buy a lottery ticket."

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There's often a price to be paid when we ask for God's help. The price is never more than we can afford, but sometimes it's higher than what we'd like to pay.

I prayed for financial stability for our family. It's an important goal to both my husband and me--not to be wealthy, but to be debt free and to handle our finances more responsibly. And we believe that God is answering that prayer with the new job my husband just started. But the price is some time spent traveling, nights where my husband sleeps in a hotel room and I sleep at home alone. I don't like this price. Tonight I'm lonely, and I miss my husband, and I don't want to pay this price. My Father put a nice, fat piece of chocolate cake on the table for my dessert, but I don't want to eat the nasty spinach first. I just want my cake.

I'm not going to feel guilty for just wanting my cake. I'm eating the nasty spinach, and I'm trusting my Father--the nasty spinach is probably good for me, even if I don't understand how. And I'm remembering that Jesus didn't want to pay His price, either. But He paid the price, out of love for me. My goal is not so selfless, and my price is not so high, and yet He'll still be supporting me through this. So I don't like the price, but I'll pay it with gratitude.

Midnight Musings

I'm beginning to wonder if I shouldn't have named my blog Midnight Musings. It seems that midnight-ish is my preferred time to write an entry. This is weird to me because normally I have to work on having a schedule. Go figure. And, the title Midnight Musings would have had a nice symmetry with my husband's blog, Musings in Madness. Although I'm still not sure why he titled his blog such a thing...

Cold-Hearted Woman

Over the years, a number of my family members have come to the conclusion that I'm rather cold-blooded. There are times when I begin to wonder if they're right. It's not that I'm uncaring. However, I have developed an emotional detachment from people or situations that are distressing and that I can't do anything about. It's not uncaring; it's self protection.

My mother is here visiting, and we ended up talking about my father. Now, we're not generally the type of people who sit around having deep meaningful heart to heart discussions about things that happened in the past and how we feel about these events. But the conversation made me think about these things again, and I came to some conclusions. Until 2 years ago, I hadn't seen my father in 14 years. I've only seen him a few times since, and I talk to him on the phone occasionally. Two years ago, when he contacted me, I did something I'd never been able to do before: I forgave him. Before that time, I was still very bitter and angry when I thought about him. Now, the bitterness and anger are gone. In their place is... nothing. He's an interesting conversationalist, so I enjoy talking to him, but there is no emotional bond, nor do I have a desire for there to be an emotional bond between us. Of my two brothers, one still hasn't truly forgiven our father, and the other is working to forge new bonds--both very emotional responses. But me, I'm indifferent. I'd be sad if he died, but I don't think I'd have any regrets. I forgave him, and he knows it, and that's enough for me.

After explaining these things to my mother, I got the look that I often get from her. She loves me, and I know it. And sometimes she looks at me like she's not sure how she had such an odd child. It's not something that bothers me, it's just something that is. I've always been slightly out of step with the rest of my family, and I really don't think I understand them either. The bonds and the love don't require understanding, they only require acceptance.

Two of my brothers (the unforgiving one, and my half-brother) have made some lifestyle choices of which I can't approve. I love them, I really do. But I don't want to be around them. I don't want to watch them make choices that will eventually kill them. And they are beyond anything that I can do to help them. They are in God's hands, and my only option is prayer. And so I pray, and I don't worry about them. Worrying only upsets me, and it helps no one. Maybe I am cold to remain relatively unemotional about them. But it's the only way I can deal with it. Emotions can cloud the intellect. I see other family members enabling these brothers to continue with their self-destructive lifestyles because of the love and the worry and the bonds of family. But there are times when the best help we can give someone is to not help them.

oh, Cannabis!

When legalizing cannabis (aka marijuana) comes up in conversation, it seems to me that a great many people start yelling the battle cry from the public service announcements of the late 80s: "Just say NO!" I consider it a shame that these people apparently haven't done their research before they begin speaking.

Now, this entry is not about legalizing marijuana for recreational use. While I personally have seen no research that shows that marijuana is any worse than alcohol, I must admit that I drink only rarely and wouldn't smoke marijuana even if it was legal. In short, I don't care enough about the subject to argue about it.

However, there's a lot more to this issue than the recreational use of marijuana. There are both medical and environmental reasons to rethink the way we see cannabis.

Medically, there are a number of potential uses for marijuana. The most commonly acknowledged use is the treatment of glaucoma. My mother-in-law has been fighting a losing battle with glaucoma for years now. Her doctor regularly tells her that the only thing that they haven't tried yet is marijuana. I think it's criminal that our government prevents our citizens from trying a treatment that could prevent them from going blind. There are no good arguments for forbidding the medicinal use, under a doctor's supervision, of a natural drug that has fewer side affects than your average FDA approved laboratory created drug, particularly in a society that sanctions the use of narcotics for altering the behavior of our children to make them more docile.

Environmentally, the uses for cannabis are almost endless. Currently, there are a number of groups who want industrial hemp grown in the United States again. I say again because hemp has a long and honorable history in this country. George Washington and Thomas Jefferson both grew hemp. Benjamin Franklin owned a mill that made hemp paper. The Declaration of Independence was drafted on hemp paper.

Hemp has some serious advantages over other sources.

• Unlike cotton, hemp improves rather than depletes the soil and it grows well without herbicides, fungicides, or pesticides. (Currently, approximately half the agricultural chemicals used in this country are applied to cotton.)


• Hemp is stronger than cotton.


• Hemp fiber is, obviously, more sustainable than wood pulp. Hemp paper resists decomposition better, and it does not yellow with age when produced with an acid free process. It can also be recycled more times and can be bleached with more environmentally friendly bleaching processes.


• Hemp seed (which cannot be used as a drug) is more nutritious than soybean.


• Hemp can be used as a source for biomass fuels which could reduce our consumption of fossil fuels.


• Hemp can replace many toxic petrochemical products.

For more information, visit The Hemp Industries Association.

I'm Just Pathetic

I'm trying to decide whether or not to choose a new mobile phone. I just signed up with a new plan earlier this week, but I'm not sure that I like the phone that I chose.

What makes me pathetic is WHY I'm not sure that I like the perfectly adequate phone that I received. Especially since this phone has one feature that I really like, and none of the other phone choices have this feature: it can vibrate instead of ring. This is cool because, in the unlikely event that the man and I ever actually get to go out for a drink sans children, I will still know that my phone is ringing, even though I can't hear it over the loud music, when the babysitter calls to tell me that she's allowed one of my children to be injured. (And now, of course, I'm remembering why this event is so unlikely to happen--the woman is obviously not fit to watch my children for a couple of hours.)

So what's wrong with my phone? It can't download the nifty screen savers, backgrounds, and ringers that are available. It came with 10 backgrounds, and only one is tolerable, and I detest the only screen saver that it has.

I'm not sure why this matters to me. It's not like I spend a great deal of time watching my phone. I believe I'm feeling rather shallow right about now.

And I decided to do this because...?

I haven't the foggiest idea why I'm doing this. Maybe lately I just feel the need to get my thoughts down on some virtual paper, and this is the easiest way to do it. After all, I've never denied being lazy.

I once told a friend that sometimes I feel like my mind is a little butterfly, fluttering from thought to thought without ever staying in one place for long. I imagine that this blog will highlight that analogy rather than disprove it.