Educational Anarchy: Musings of a Homeschooling Mom

New Blog

2009-09-04T19:38:00.001-07:00

Hello, all! I have decided, since I am no longer homeschooling, to start a new blog. Please visit me at http://www.free-range-parenting.blogspot.com/.

Good Times In Indiana

2009-07-18T20:13:00.000-07:00

Just a few pics of the fun we had in the heartland! It's nice to be back, but I really miss the old stomping grounds. I am dying to move to Indiana and homeschool again - it's my newest wish!

Anna, high on the climbing wall at the 4th of July celebration in Lion's Park.

Decorating our American Flag cake.

My mom, demonstrating how to properly use a Snuggie.

The boys and cousin Reagan, enjoying the fireworks spectacular!

Latest Column

2009-07-05T09:15:00.001-07:00

This is a similar, but expanded, post from my last one. More anecdotes from the wholesome midwest to come!

I recently embarked on a pilgrimage to my homeland of Indiana, not by Conestoga wagon like my ancestors (who include the great explorer Daniel Boone), but by Dodge Grand Caravan across the wilds of upstate New York and through Ohio, the most unremarkable state in the union.

Unlike days of yore when families and friends traveled in packs, I brought my children alone and somehow survived 20 hours of road travel and an overnight stay in a well-appointed Courtyard by Marriott the primitive way, without DVD player or hand-held electronic devices. But it is important to teach children of their roots, and what better way than a couple of weeks with relatives in another culture to help them learn.

“It’s so green here. And so much open space,” remarked my daughter, age 8. “It’s kind of creepy. Anything could just jump out of that cornfield at you.”

Now, I have never thought of Indiana as a creepy place. I grew up on a farm, complete with a 200-acre cornfield, where we would play Children of the Corn for hours, and hide from adult intervention. When I come back, I feel like my lungs can expand and I morph into a completely different person – the kids noticed this as well. “You’re so nice here, Mommy,” they say. “Can we have Indiana Mommy back home?”

I told them I will try, but it’s unlikely. While I love life in New England, with its sweet hamlets, rich history and the ocean, it’s a wholly different lifestyle – fast-paced and get-ahead quick – that I have to accustom myself to every time I leave and come back.

Yes, Indiana is mostly known for a car race (the Indy 500); farms; obese people in Spandex; and Michael Jackson. But the people are lovely. No one there cares if you were born there – they’re just glad you came by. The cashiers are friendly, and are genuine in their concern about your well-being. I am always surprised to find myself exchanging pleasantries with a check-out lady instead of hearing way too much information as she complains to the bag boy about her boyfriend, which seems to be the norm at the Stop and Shop.

People slow down and wave you in during rush hour on the highway. Roads are well-maintained; beautifully manicured parks and pools abound. There is sunshine galore and smiles wherever you look. It’s no wonder I always want to move back while we’re there. I am nicer, slower and more pleasant to be around in the Midwest, in part because people in Indiana do not cringe when I start to talk – there is a healthy respect for differing opinion decidedly not present in New England.

This is not to knock the life I have led in Amesbury for the last 10 years. I love the winding old roads, and the proximity to tax-free New Hampshire. The beaches are the best, and I cannot imagine going through life without a Newburyport just across a tiny bridge. But it’s hard sometimes to reconcile my upbringing as a Hoosier with the more rigid ways of the Northeast. I am glad my children get to see places where free-range behavior is encouraged and green expanses still exist. And here’s hoping, one day, I will figure out how to bring Nice Mommy back home.

Going Home and Other Musings

2009-07-01T18:51:00.000-07:00

So, I just traveled for 20 hours with three children to the wilds of Indiana, my homeland and place I both dread and love. The week I left to come home was a big one, with the loss of Michael Jackson and Farrah Fawcett in the same day. One of my friends put it best when she said that the death of MJ was pretty much the signal of the death of the childhoods of my generation. Since my childhood is kind of what I like to recapture when I visit here, that made me a little sad.

Being me, I have been overthinking all the things that have changed about the place I grew up. My first night here, I spent a couple of hours laughing until I nearly wet my pants with my dearest friend Amy (you can look for an entire post about her here, if you wish). On my way back to get the kids from my mom's house, I passed my grandparent's old house. They lived there from the mid-1940s until their deaths, in 2001 and 2008. A strange car was parked there and it really hit hard that I would never attend one of their famous Wassail parties at Christmas, when they entertained more than 100 friends. I'd never sit by my Nana's bedside and listen to her wise words - she had polio and was bedridden her final years, but never had one negative word to say. I'd never make mischief with Pop, who made it clear I was the favorite grandchild and didn't care that the fact of it upset people. I had to pull over because the tears made it hard for me to see.

My childhood is indeed over, and my children's childhoods are going far too quickly. I look at them and wish I could start over - be kinder, let more things go. I often wonder if visiting their own ancestral home will be a happy trip. I certainly hope so!

I am going to enjoy my time here as much as I can. I tend to be a different person in Indiana. I think it's the logical way the cities are laid out, the expanse of cornfields, the friendliness of clerk and driver alike, the slower pace. My mood is different, more calm. I am a person people want to talk to, and don't cringe when I speak like some do in Massachusetts. I tend not to dwell on the horrors of my real life, and I make my plan to escape back here someday.

Sorry for the maudlin tone. I hope to regale my very few readers with some funny stories. There is a person I would love to see, but want him to mostly remember me as a cute 22-year-old and not the fat girl I have become. I don't know if he will read this, but he knows who he is, and I hope he will intitiate a meeting because I am too scared. I guess you can't really ever go back!

Anyway, off to bed after a long night swimming and enjoying time here in the Hoosier state.

My Recent Affliction

2009-06-17T19:25:00.000-07:00

This is my most recent Free-Range Parenting column. Enjoy!

It seems that my household, for now at least, has escaped the scourge of the swine flu. Recently, however, I have realized that I may suffer from something even more sinister and hard to shake – the Whine Flu. It’s contagious as well, and I fear my children are catching it from me, given the state of their discontent lately.

I have never been a glass-half-full, rose-colored glasses kind of girl, and have always chalked it up to being a divergent thinker. But a remark from my daughter’s dance teacher made me sit up and do a little self-reflection. During a grueling 2-hour marathon of dance photos recently, I told the teacher we’d all be happier if the pictures were cancelled, because it takes up a whole Saturday when we could certainly be doing something more interesting. The teacher looked me in the eye and asked if I ever stop complaining.

I had a mental flashback to all the conversations I’ve had with her recently, and had to concede she was right! The shame. I have complained about dress rehearsals, the schedule and the cost of summer classes.

So I, being a former science fair champion, embarked on a scientific study of my behavior. Over the course of 2 days, I deliberately made notes of every time I whined about something. It was quite shocking! Some of the things included being cut off in traffic by an octogenarian who proceeded to go 15 miles an hour down Water Street, even though no one was behind me and if they had just waited 5 seconds for me to pass I could have gotten to Starbucks more quickly and avoided the long line there; the weather; a splinter in my foot that is stuck under the skin and still making me perverse when I walk; mowing the lawn; my dirty, near-biohazardlike home; the terror-ific way my twins sometimes behave; and the short lunch period at my daughter’s school.

Not one of these things is particularly noteworthy, and most are the product of my own poor choices. Why do I think anyone wants to hear me discuss these things in minutae? I bet my poor, patient friends are rolling their eyes on the inside.

The next 2 days, I decided to be a veritable ray of sunshine sort of girl. You know the type, who take things in stride and seem to always be skipping, with a halo around their shiny-haired heads. I made eye contact with strangers and smiled; thanked a service worker for wiping my table in the mall food court; did not honk at idiot drivers who cut me off; refused to complain about the things niggling my mind; and cleaned up my house my very own self. I played with my children and took them places, causing my daughter to ask what was wrong with me and why was I being so smiley and fun. Hmmmm.

I am pleased to report that I felt a little better on the sunny side of the street. However, the Herculean effort it took to bite my tongue and lay off the car horn nearly wiped me out and caused me to have to lie down with a cool cloth across my forehead. It takes a lot of concentration to find things to talk about that do not involve complaining, at least for a curmudgeon like myself.

Psychologists say it takes 21 days to change a habit. Nineteen more to go, I suppose. Most likely, the Whine Flu will always be in my system. Now that I am aware of it, though, I am making what I hope is a valiant effort to at least push it into remission. And since kids learn by example, perhaps my darlings will never acquire a full-blown case.

In the meantime, my goal is to get through each day doing a little less whining and being a little more grateful for what I do have, which is everything I need plus a little bit more.

Impending Visit of Doom

2009-06-17T19:17:00.001-07:00

Yes, my mother-in-law is descending upon us this weekend, not unlike a hurricane on the Gulf coast. I have been scurrying about in a vain attempt to make my house a showplace to appease her OCD, lest I have to listen to her muttering under her breath about how lazy I am for 4 straight days.

She once told me that when her children were small, she was given the option of hiring a housekeeper or a nanny. She chose the housekeeper, because she didn't trust anyone to clean her house properly. So much became crystal clear when I learned of that choice.

During our last visit, we were discussing homeschooling and she said she finally understood my positions on working outside the home and school. Direct quote: "I think you feel about your kids like how I feel about my house. You don't trust nobody to do it right." (She speaks with a heavy Vietnamese accent, she is not a hillbilly). I guess she is correct. Her kids are a mess, but her house is clean. I suppose I am the opposite.

We have a busy weekend ahead, with Anna's end of the year dance recital and school closing for the year. I am hoping her visit will be but a blur in my memory.

Crazy Headlines

2009-06-13T18:05:00.000-07:00

One of my vices is compulsively reading pop culture tabloids in the grocery store checkout line and on the internet. Some things that have happened to celebrities by their own doing have caused me no end of entertainment and caused many questions, some inappropriate, to pop into my head.

The first is the untimely death of the star of Kung Fu David Carradine. Is it sad, pathetic or just downright hilarious that one of the first thoughts upon finding out the exact cause of death is that it would not be surprising if a certain member of my household met a similar fate? And how awful it must have been for Carradine's family...and at 72 years old. Oy vey.

And Chastity Bono is becoming a man. Named Chaz. Why anyone would do this is beyond my comprehension. Being a girl is so much fun! We can change our hair at whim, we are not hairy, we can wear skirts or pants and still be socially acceptable, we can giggle, read chick books, have babies and are generally enjoyable to be around.

Now, Chastity/Chaz is a lesbian. My question is this: once she is a man, will she just be a boring straight guy?

Then, there is the whole Jon and Kate thing. Jon is a weenie and Kate is a shrew. It's those kids I worry the most about. The most disturbing thing by far, though, is Kate's hair. Who in the name of all that is holy would deliberately cut someone's hair like that? It's like a reverse mullett, porcupine-butt, Flock of Seagulls look gone all wrong. If only her hair was cute, she'd be able to be happy. And then maybe she'd like her kids, even the icky boys.

Things I don't care about include who Kate Hudson is dating, who is pregnant and the goings on of holier-than-thou Brangelina with their spawn.

Why I am I celebrity obsessed? Aren't we all? I think it's because I can envision myself as a celebrity for the few moments I read the mags. Then I catch a glimpse of myself in the door glass as I depart, and reality sets back in. It also makes my own life seem so normal. In the last week, my children have:

1. Adopted a clan of slugs after a rainstorm. They are living in a bowl of mud on the porch.
2. Learned to make their own quesedillas.
3. Built an obstacle course for Lizzie the Lizard.
4. Drew more than 100 pictures of superheroes with which to decorate an entire bedroom.
5. Built an entire army barracks out of sticks at Sawyer Park with friends.

So normal. And so fine. I cannot wait for summer to commence!

This is My 100th Post

2009-05-30T06:11:00.000-07:00

Wow! I have slowed down on writing some, as the weather has been nicer and we've been outdoors more - not so much material from the kids lately. Normal play at the beach or playgrounds is not so interesting to read about.

I have in my travels lately, however, run into some really crazy mommies. I just attract them somehow.

For instance, while minding my own business at a pot luck recently, a mom I've never met before came over to chat. Straight out of the barn, she mentioned her career, how she would never, ever be a stay-at-home mom and asking my opinion about if she should have another - she's worried because her first is so easy and maybe the second one won't be. Because, of course, a maternity leave longer than 6 weeks would be sheer hell. Oh, and after finding out that I have 3 children and don't work full-time, she asked what I might have to talk about that is remotely interesting.

Being a mostly SAHM myself and craving more children than I already have, I was a little taken aback. I don't even know this woman's name and she has already bashed my choice to be home and acts like children are on this earth to bend to our whims (which they certainly do not). Being me, I went into joke mode and said that you never can predict what your little ones will be like. I also pointed out that, like me, she could end up with twins the second time around.

She then (remember, I still don't know her name) contorted her face and said twins would never be an option for her and that she would terminate the pregnancy if there were twins. Because twins might cause her to have to work less.

So, how does one respond? Especially since I know that twins, while difficult, have brought me so much joy and laughter. Especially since I am pro-life. I wanted to ask her why she would kill her babies and why she had any to begin with, but didn't want to cause a scene (this is a new goal after I accused someone of snubbing me in public in a FB status update and got caught), so I mumbled that twins aren't so bad.

This lady told me that yes, they are, and people should only have 2 children anyway to keep 0 population growth. I sighed and ambled away and immediately latched onto a rational friend to relay the story to see if the "f" word playing around in my head was unfounded.

I still don't know what I should have said. I am sad for this woman and her daughter and wonder what she will feel in a few years when the early years are gone and she has spent them in an office instead of savoring every minute possible of the time when kids actually want to be with you. Please don't think I am being a sanctimommy here, but I really don't get it. I am not a perfect mom, but I believe my children take comfort in knowing that I am here even when I am not directly interacting with them.

Anyway, the sun is finally shining again and we're off to a frog pond. Here's hoping the nice, normal moms are out in force today!

Vices

2009-05-24T15:35:00.000-07:00

Vices. All moms have them. For my grandmother, who reared her children in the 1950s, it was cocktails and "pep pills." For my mother, whose children were young in the 1970s, it was Marlboro Reds and Oreo cookies scarfed down with her head hiding between open kitchen cabinets while she pretended to put away dishes. For Gen X moms, it's arguably Facebook (and possibly the Twilight book series).

Like an obsessive stalker boyfriend who starts out friendly enough and later becomes impossible to avoid, and at the same time is attractive and addictive, Facebook draws you in. "What are you doing right now?" it asks. "What are your favorite books?" "What five people deserve a punch in the face?" I want to answer all the questions and placate the Facebook demon but know that there are better ways to spend my time.

For me, the low point came a couple of weeks ago when my children were bouncing around my feet like little jumping beans, clutching their empty bellies and begging for dinner — and I put off cooking for them to complete a quiz called, "Will You Survive the Zombie Apocalypse." In case you are wondering, I will be one of the first to die, but not before realizing the horror of the situation.

I have spent some time while driving recently contemplating the appeal of Facebook. It started as a social networking program for teens and college students, but now hordes of older people (like myself) have joined in.

Because of our fast-paced, child-centered parenting these days, it's hard to find time to be with friends without the kids. I think we love Facebook because it's possible to check in a few times a day and see what everyone is up to without having to rearrange schedules for face-to-face meetings. It also breaks up the monotony of housework and child rearing for a snippet of adult time. And those quizzes and games are just too much fun. Who cares that my mouse hand is starting to resemble a shriveled claw from all that clicking?

What is a parent to do? I am forever lecturing my children of the importance of self-control and limiting screen time. I fear that I often limit their screen time so I can have more of it myself. Is the lesson they're receiving a positive one? That it's acceptable to eschew human contact for superficial status updates? Do as I say, not as I do?

I have been considering detoxing from Facebook, or just becoming a lurker for a while. I ask myself if I really believe anyone cares what songs make me cry, or what I am thinking. Probably not. But it's cathartic in a way to put it all out there, just in case. To have contact with people who are taller than 4 feet and can use multisyllabic words. Who will comment back to me that they understand my plight, that some people have children who do weirder things than mine do.
Yes, Facebook is my vice and dirty little secret (not so secret anymore). At least I haven't signed up for Twitter ....

Things

2009-05-16T11:00:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, someone asked me how things are at home, someone who knows a few details from the tip of the iceberg about the state of my marriage. I am never sure if people really want to know, or if they are just being polite. I just said that things were "per usual" and carried on to be polite and not make anyone uncomfortable. No one likes a whiny girl.

What I really wanted to say is that I am often stricken by bouts of lonliness and feel an undercurrent of sadness much of the time. That I often want a hug or an alcoholic beverage (or both simultaneously) but neither is forthcoming. How did this happen, I ask myself. I am a reasonably attractive girl, or so I am told; carrying a few extra pounds but still able to move comfortably. My age is often guessed 8-10 years younger (I am 38, but was just last week accused of being "about 27" by someone who had no reason to suck up or to make me feel better). I can be fun and witty, when the stars align correctly. Why am I looked through at home, like I am just a wisp of air, inconsequential on its way to somewhere else?

So I guess things are for me how they are for many: a little confusing and somewhat terrifying.

The bright spot(s) are my wonderful children, who don't really mind the few extra pounds and beg me to read to them. I haven't written about them for awhile, so here is an update:

Anna is doing great in school, though she says she misses me all day and wishes I were there. I want to videotape her saying that to play back when she is 16 and doesn't even want me in the same county.

Poor Jake has been battling a strange virus that has landed him on the couch for a few days, with high fever. I have been holding vigil at night with him in my bed, my hand in his hot little one as he sleeps. I figure I can sleep later.

Ryan is turning out to be my comedian. He has made up his own language using clicking sounds from his fingernails and weird noises. Occasionally he will translate for us, and always makes me laugh.

So, in all, I would say things are maudlin. Some happiness shining through the heavy thoughts. Can that be said in polite company? Maybe next time I'll try.

Changes, Not Necessarily for the Better

2009-05-06T09:12:00.000-07:00

As an insomniac, I have loads of time to contemplate my past and every once in awhile I will realize something that may or may not be profound, but seems so when I am barely lucid. Last night, I was thinking of all the ways I changed to make my now husband happy 15 years ago, but that have ultimately caused the total loss of the person I was then. It took my mother of all people to point out that my personality all but died when I got married. It's sad, but if I make this list maybe it will help me come back! I think I'd come out of my funk if I stopped trying to make him happy, which clearly isn't going to work, and went for making myself happy again. To that end, I am pursuing a real job with a salary so I can take back control of the things I love. I think in the end I will be a better person/mother. Anyone know of a part-time Reading Specialist job anywhere????

Things I changed:
1. My clothes. I used to be a hipster in vintage clothes, with dresses/combat boots. He hated the way I looked and convinced me to start shopping at The Limited. Now I just look plain boring.

2. My music. I used to derive great joy from singing and playing the piano. We had to leave the piano behind in Indiana because he wouldn't pay shipping costs and he views singing as a waste of my time, and won't agree to watch the kids if I join the choral society.

3. Going to live theater. Love it, all of it! Getting dressed up, the play, everything. Of course, to him, plays are boring and not a good way to spend money, so no go.

4. Spending time riding my bike or hiking with friends.

5. Talking for hours with friends and ending up rolling on the floor laughing about the ridiculous. This naturally takes a break when one has little kids, but I hope to do this again soon.

6. Kissing.

That's about all I can tackle now. If there are any volunteers to help in my journey (or go with me to the theater), let me know.

Newest Family Member

2009-05-03T09:27:00.001-07:00

Darling Anna turned 8 this weekend, and her heart's desire was Lizzie the leopard gecko, pictured above crawling up Anna's arm (it's Ryan's hand reaching out to hold Lizzie next). So far, she is an easy pet. She is quiet and doesn't make a mess of the toys, so I love her already. Since her diet is mainly live crickets, I also now have a box of them in the house, hopping around pointlessly waiting to be eaten by Lizzie.

In truth, I was relieved she chose such a cool pet for her birthday gift after she had come home from school just days before asking to see the Hannah Montana movie. My worst public school fear realized! The lizard request cancelled out the Hannah Montana request...not that I am sheltering Anna. I just find the whole Hannah Montana thing annoying!

It's hard to believe that 8 years have already gone by since the day I was writhing in pain and wanting to die while giving birth to the kid. She's grown into such a great little person, just a little too fast for my liking.

My Logo

2009-05-01T19:24:00.001-07:00

I've had several queries lately about the header on the blog, the cool Educate with the anarchy symbol. I am sad to report that I didn't think of it, and want to give props to the person who did - his name is Matt Vincent, and he's clearly a genius. I know Matt from my work with the newspaper; he's a Selectman and also a patent attorney with a flair for graphics (and an unparalleled sense of humor). Just wanted to give credit where credit is due! Thanks, Matt!

How One Really Gets the Swine Flu

2009-04-28T18:03:00.000-07:00

OK, I shamelessly stole this picture from my friend Lauren F., who posted it on Facebook earlier today. This is something one should not do in order to remain hygenic and clean.

Contraband

2009-04-26T09:37:00.000-07:00

This is certainly not the most attractive picture of my beautiful daughter - and she has lost her 2 front teeth naturally, they are not black or rotten as they appear here.

She is consuming what is fast becoming a controlled substance around here. A peanut butter sandwich. Yes, I had the nerve to sneak contraband peanut butter to the beach this weekend and allow my children to eat it. In public. I kept looking around nervously for moms on high alert for the smell who would come over and yell at me (which has happened).

I realize that some children cannot have peanut products, but mine can. I need to vent about these moms who accost my children with wipes at the playground (this has also happened), who lecture me on how some kids can't eat it, why it is not fair to let their child see peanut butter if he/she cannot have it, etc.

Well, let me tell you that I had to cash in our change jar this week in order to feed my kids. It came out to about $30 for a week of groceries for three growing children and one adult (the despot is away). The most nutritious bang for my buck was a huge bag of apples, bananas, grapes at 99 cents a pound, some loaves of bread and peanut butter. So please don't judge. I am not trying to kill your child with peanut fumes; I am trying to keep my kids healthy on a shoestring budget.

Please look the other way when I open our pathetic lunch sack and out come the PB & J on honey wheat sandwiches. It's the best I can do.

Some Good Words I Need to Work into Everyday Conversation

2009-04-23T05:56:00.000-07:00

As my mental faculties are declining, due to childbirth and a couple of years of breastfeeding (see Momnesia post for explanation of this disorder), I am making a list of excellent words that should be used with regularity. It's up to you to figure out the meanings.

muliebritous
histrionics
festooned
perverse (the peevish, cranky meaning)
anathema
ennui
bellicose
nonplussed

If you are so inclined, please add some more. It's my goal to single-handedly bring back some civility to the English language...only second to my goal of being so thin people worry about me.

Snarky Amy

2009-04-21T05:09:00.000-07:00

OK, Amy the Snarky Commenter is back - this time to criticize my spelling skills (I didn't see the error - I had spelled the word the same way as she put in her correction). She also said that she should know how the word was spelled, as she was "Spelling Bowl captin." Hmmmmm.

Since I have ultimate power to accept/reject comments, let me make it clear that only nice people who state their points clearly and without a hint of bitchiness will be allowed to post. This does not mean you have to agree with me, just leave the mean spirit out of it. Either that, or identify yourself so I know exactly who you are. You are clearly not any of my friends named Amy, who are all nothing but goodness and light.

Snarky Amy clearly doesn't know me at all, or she would be aware that much of what I write is...ready now? A joke. I am a fan of sarcasm and have been known to be cynical, and all mean-ish posts come down after a few days, once I am over it. So, Snarky Amy, please try again.

6 Things I Hope to Accomplish

2009-04-20T04:16:00.000-07:00

It's school vacation week, but I still have many things to do. I am mainly focusing on finding ways to combat my undiagnosed but undeniably present ADD and possible schizoid tendencies, along with the following:

1. To really and truly live by my new credo, which was on someone's signature line but I am stealing: Be Kinder than necessary because everyone you meet is fighting some kind of battle.

2. I need to detox from the internet. It sucks me in like a vortex of terror, especially a certain social networking site. I am addicted to the quizzes and reached a new low yesterday when I took one called, "How Will You Handle the Zombie Apocolypse" instead of starting dinner for my starving kids.

3. Plan fun and nearly free things to keep the children busy. Sadly, it's supposed to rain for a couple of days, thwarting a planned trip to Wolf Hollow. My grand plan is to have them help me clean by putting large piles of our copious art supplies in the middle of the floor with the instructions to "make something." This will help my organization skills by getting rid of stuff, and keep the kids busy so I can put away laundry.

4. Finish reading "The Shack." I keep picking it up at 10:30 pm and fall asleep after just a couple of minutes.

5. Find out what will be on Kindergarten screening so I can drill my boys on what to expect so the screeners don't secretly think that they are retarded from not going to preschool this year.

6. To make the most of the Despot's absence and enjoy the relaxing atmosphere in our house.

Should We Move to the Country?

2009-04-17T07:58:00.000-07:00

I think my children are trying to tell me something. Last night, they built a beaver dam on our sidewalk and made a makeshift vine on our large tree. The boys want to live in one of the trees in the back yard, and spend countless hours trying to reach the top of it. Mind you, we live in the middle of a small city - our lot is large at 1/5 of an acre. Here is photographic evidence of my poor wanna-be country kids who clearly want to escape. I can't say I blame them. My fantasies lately include at least 5 acres and a pond....

Latest Column

2009-04-17T05:53:00.000-07:00

I write a monthly parenting column, called Free-Range Parenting, for our illustrious local paper, the Newburyport Daily News. Here is the one that ran today:

After nearly four months of daily battles to get my formerly nearly-perfect daughter to complete her math lessons and to agree to go anywhere with a sunny disposition, I have made the heart-wrenching decision to put her into (gasp) Public School.

This goes so against my parenting philosophy that I spend much time questioning if I am a hypocrite, or a smart mom who has learned when to give up when something clearly isn’t working any more. My dear girl had decided that, in line of several families we know, that she should not have to do anything she didn’t want to do.

For a couple of weeks, I tried to be a pagan earth-goddess unschooler (which seems to be the prevailing “thing” here in the northeast), trying out the philosophy I was being drilled on that adults should not put any boundaries on children or force them to do anything but their heart’s desire. It did not go well. In our house, it just made the chaos even more pronounced. This is the right path for some, but I kept thinking about how life is not about doing only what one wants to do. It’s about personal responsibility, learning and respecting social and moral boundaries.

I began my quest for the “right” school around February vacation, when an hour of schoolwork was taking 5 hours, complete with whining, wailing and gnashing of teeth. After several fainting spells over the cost of a decent private education, I gritted my teeth and, with one eye closed just in case, started researching the public schools around here.

Newbury Elementary kept coming back to me as an option, especially since another homeschooling family we are friendly with has 2 children there and are happy, so I called for more information. It particularly appealed to me because my daughter is working at least 2 years above grade level in math, and her reading is off the charts. Newbury has a special program just for gifted kids that just doesn’t exist in any other schools in the area.

The wonderful principal, Mrs. Sylvia Jordan, called me at home one evening during her off hours and spent a good deal of time listening to my plight and explaining everything from curriculum to after school enrichment in detail. We were on the phone for over an hour, and I was invited to visit the school after deciding to go ahead and “choice” my daughter into the second grade there.

Wow! This school not only has an auditorium and a science lab, but the woman who is now my daughter’s teacher, Miss Grace Ruhp, welcomed my baby into her class with a smile and open arms. She did not roll her eyes, like other people in other schools, when I explained to her about my girl’s academic needs. Instead, she understood and assured me that her needs would be met. I saw in her eyes that I could trust her, that she was everything like her name.

The first day I left my daughter was horrible – for me. She got into the car at pick-up time nearly exploding with all the great things she had done that day. With two new best friends, an invitation to join the Ghost Club, a science experiment and pizza lunch, it seemed like she would fit in just fine.

But can one still be a free-range parent and send her children to school? This is something I am still trying to reconcile. I have my boys at home, since they just turned 5. But their school choice applications are in to Newbury Elementary as well. If all goes as planned, they will be there half days in the fall. I have 5 months with them, to get them dirty and allow them to be little boys. My daughter remains free to be herself and her passions for dance, violin and horseback riding will be accommodated. But for now, having someone else step in as her teacher for awhile is making our time together so much more pleasant.

I will always wonder if formal schooling was the right decision. So far, after one 3 ½ day week, it seems workable. My daughter misses playing with her brothers, but enjoys the variety of school and the new friends. I tell myself that we can always go back if it doesn’t end up being the best option. Can you go back, though? It’s the eternal question.

Old Hobbies

2009-04-11T08:21:00.000-07:00

Before I had children, I loved quilting. I made Anna a fun quilt with a dinosaur theme (she never was a princess girl), and I started these two when pregnant with the boys. I worked until I was so huge I could barely reach my machine. Since I was put on strict hospitalized bedrest with them from weeks 32-25 of pregnancy, and they came at 36 weeks, I was unable to finish the binding. I have pulled them out, and plan to finish them up. The dragon/wizard one is my favorite! You can vote below, if you like, on yours. I set up the pictures so you can see the backing as well.

I am hopeful that since the kids are getting older, I can return to some of the hobbies I enjoyed in days of yore. Perhaps a quilt of their baby clothes or something is in the works! It's quite a soothing activity.

Fun Run for Pan Mass Challenge

2009-04-11T07:18:00.001-07:00

Lovely Anna smiling after running her race!

Last weekend, we (meaning the kids) did a 1/4 mile fun run to raise money in support of a friend who is doing the Pan Mass Challenge this year. She is my hero - with 2 small children, she is able to train for this event and plan exciting fundraisers!

Ryan ended up not running because the wind was causing him to have trouble breathing due to his cold/asthma, and Anna and Jake were at the end of the pack. They are their mother's children! The persevered and made the whole 1/4 mile lap. I was exceedingly proud of them.

The kids had a blast! There was face painting, as evidenced above, and the kids wore themselves out running around the track. And they learned a little about giving money to help people who are sick. In all, a wonderful experience for us all.

Things I Have Learned from Other Great Moms

2009-04-07T14:50:00.000-07:00

My friends are useful founts of information. I thought I'd share some of the very important things they have shared with me:

1. If you fill plastic Easter eggs with liquid soap, they leak. (from Beth)
2. It is possible for a child to become emotionally attached to a can of sardines. (from Amy)
3. Everybody is putting up with something. (from my own mom)
4. Your child will only decide to affect the "no bangs" look by cutting off her bangs on the day before school pictures. (from Lauren)
5. It's wise to save the Percocet they give you after your c-section to take before breastfeeding, as that can hurt way worse than the incision. (from Margaret)
6. Sometimes, the autistic child is easier to deal with - the other one is too unpredictable. (from Jean)
7. It's probable that you have spent the whole day cleaning, doing laundry, cooking and running errands, yet your house is filthy, the hamper's full, everyone's hungry and the to-do list is a mile long. (from my own self)

That's about it for now. Please feel free to add your own gems! And have a relaxing night....

Goals for the Week

2009-04-05T16:12:00.000-07:00

Aside from the obvious swimming out of the depths of despair from sending my eldest to the wolves, I have several goals this week. They are as follows:

1. To survive the Georgetown State of the Town meeting without a) dozing off, b) obvious eye-rolling or c) indulging in inappropriate fantasies.

2. To provoke the new person of legend in Newburyport, the Starbucks Witch, into yelling at me and/or my children so I can get some good material for my next column. She apparently feels it's appropriate to shout the "f" word at mothers who dare to bring their tots into Starbucks to purchase caffeinated beverages and calls all Newburyport-area children entitled brats. Doesn't she know that without the caffeine, we'd not have the energy to discipline the kids at all? The show should be a good one!

3. To also survive a school committee meeting without any of the above (see #1).

4. To finally let go of the money the lady owes me and throw away my rose colored glasses. Also to stop obsessively checking PayPal to see if she had a change of heart.....

5. To attempt a detox from Facebook and clean my house instead.

I'll let you know if I succeed!

Am I Still an Educational Anarchist?

2009-04-04T18:55:00.000-07:00

I have admitted defeat and enrolled my daughter in Evil Public School, to start Monday. I do believe I have chosen the best school in the area and went through all the choice paperwork to get her in. I am still suspect of what goes on in public schools, especially after working in them for several years. But I met Anna's teacher and the children were so lovely to her when we visited - I can't help but think that, even if we return to homeschooling in the future, it will be a decent experience for her. The teacher she has been assigned has a master's in working with gifted children, and is very open to allowing her to be her veryownself. So we'll see.

My boys will still be home with me, having just turned 5 and not eligible for K until the fall. So I guess for now I am still homeschooling them, as much as one can with crazy boys intent on mass destruction.

I have a feeling I will still be an anarchist deep down and continue to question everything she is required to do. And Monday will be the hardest day as I drop that precious girl off in the morning. I anticipate many tears (me, not her) and a melancholy that I don't expect will dissipate any time soon.

Rock Stars

2009-03-27T10:51:00.000-07:00

My children have formed a band called Poison Snakes - all on their own. Anna plays violin, Jake the keyboard and Ryan the heating vent. Today, they treated me to a concert of music only a mother could love. Anna played Minuet 1 by Bach quite well and in tune. Jake played an original song called Poisoned Leopard (perhaps poisoned by a snake?) and Ryan, who refused to face the camera, dragged a stick back and forth over the heating vent as percussion. In all, a quite enjoyable concert. See program below. Anna made it in about 30 seconds, so forgive the sloppy handwriting. Can't wait for the future concert May 2!

Security Breach

2009-03-24T06:42:00.000-07:00

I think my mom may have found this blog! When she asked the address, I told her politely that I did not want her to read it, because she just doesn't need to see thing I write here - she tends toward the melodramatic and it can be exhausting. While I hope she would respect my wishes, I don't know if she has. So I am going to take a break from posting for awhile and possibly change the blog address. Mom, if you are reading this, please stop. I need a place to vent without worrying about if you are lurking.

I Can't Believe What They Come Up With

2009-03-17T16:00:00.000-07:00

My son Ryan is selectively mute. He talks up a storm at home, is very creative and has a huge vocabulary. He's extremely artistic and comes up with all sorts of massive art projects that decorate our walls and fabricates elaborate games that go on for hours.

However, he will not speak to anyone outside our family. He just looks at them with a gleam in his eye and his little mouth clamped shut. It's become a bit of a game with my friends to see if they can get him to say anything to them. Yesterday, a mom at kung fu tried to rile him up by accusing him of being just one year old. He shook his head, sending his feathery hair flying, but would not speak.

At bedtime, I asked him why he wouldn't talk to any adults except me and on rare occasions his father. Ryan's answer was that everyone is talking in Spanish and he can't understand them. Should this be cause for alarm? I am fairly certain we mostly associate with English speakers. Do I force him to talk, or just let the phase pass...it's kind of embarrassing, but funny at the same time. Where do they get this stuff? I'd love to live inside his head for a day and see what the heck goes on in there.

Squirrels Need Homes, Too

2009-03-15T11:51:00.001-07:00

Since it's the Ides of March, I am being extra careful, but have let my guard down a bit since today it was nearly 60 degrees. I banished the children from the house so I could have a few moments of peace. I was having one of those days in which I love my children, but hate being a mother. Those of you who are mothers will know exactly what I mean. Those of you who aren't will think I am a sociopath, but that is certainly not the case.

When I went outside to check on them (and to ride my bike around with them again in practice for a trip I have planned in my mind to go riding at the Plum Island reservation soon), they were huddled near the back of the yard building something. I went close to see, and they had found an old plastic collander, a horde of acorns, fresh moss and many twigs which they fashioned into a squirrel shelter with an adjoining pool for worms. Suddenly, I loved being a mom again! Note the use of the blue pipette to carefully water the moss to keep it fresh. I took several pictures (see above) and then made a bike obstacle course for us all to navigate. Good times.

And here is a picture of Stella, the durable and trusty bike I wrote about last weekend. She is propped next to my equally stylish minivan.

Karaoke

2009-03-14T13:55:00.000-07:00

First, I'd like to wish everyone Happy Pi Day...now, to the point.

My friends back in my homeland of Indiana are having an ABBA karaoke party tonight, and I can't go. I found out about the soiree on Facebook, where I get to read about all the people having more fun than I am. If not for the low balance in my checkbook, I would have boarded a plane immediately to hang with Kevin et al for nice round of Dancing Queen.

My plan tonight (Saturday, by the way) includes folding laundry, convincing children to go to bed and reading another chapter or two of Brideshead Revisited. I will also lament the fact that The Husband's business trip has been put out two weeks, thwarting my plans for a peaceful weekend. If I am lucky, I might happen across a marathon of Snapped on the Oxygen network. I want somewhere kooky to go, especially since I am sporting a new haircut - 8 inches gone and funky layers everywhere!

I admit without shame that I love karaoke. My first flirtation with it was singing the great Prince song Kiss with my BFF Amy at the Bombay Bicycle Club in Indy. We did a fine falsetto, and to my horror after we were done I saw that my future stepfather was at the bar....

Another song I can do very well is Tainted Love by Soft Cell. I perfected that one the summer of my 20th year after being dared to do it by Bill the Lawyer (one of only two lawyers I can abide, and whom I always referred to as Bill the Lawyer, which caused him no end of eye-rolling) who was 7 years my senior, which was our ultimate downfall. He made me sing it every time we went out anywhere, so accurate was my rendition. I was very popular in the boring-lawyer-party circuit of the early 1990s.

There really is nothing more goofy and life-affirming than singing pop songs to bad, tinny back-up music. The fading away of karaoke into obscurity is one of the saddest outcomes of the new millenium - I really think it should come back into vogue.

In the meantime, the mountains of laundry await me in my current and mundane life. I keep checking my phone for messages calling me away to somewhere else, but alas, none are there. I will never end my quest to find a karaoke bar somewhere and convince some innocent bystander to come along with me (could be tricky, but I did birth twins, so anything is possible). Any takers? Just let me know....

Miscellaneous Thoughts

2009-03-12T19:04:00.000-07:00

I have been up late thinking again, always a bad thing to do. I bought a vat of Advil PM on my way home tonight to aid and abet a good night's sleep, hopefully with the dream I have sometimes involving Adrian Grenier and a motorcyle. Yummy!

1. I imagine what it would be like to carry on an entire conversation with an adult (preferably a well-spoken man with a nice voice) without being interrupted by my kids or worrying about the time.

2. What would I do with a whole day all to myownself? How weird would it be? I believe it would be a small form of Shangri-la.

3. How is it possible to feel lonely when I am never, ever alone?

4. Should I cut my hair myself, since it's all mangy and I have no money? The only scissors we have in our house are the dull, round-edged kid ones, but then maybe I'd just look "interesting".

5. Why is it that I have lost about 15 pounds since Christmas, but the only part of my body that looks smaller is my chest, which was my last flattering feature? How can this be reversed?

6. Why are some women so damn mean to each other? And would my idea of a book called Bitch-Be-Gone be a bestseller?

7. I consider who would be the best candidate for my friend with benefits. No boys I know seem interested....but how does one really know?

8. Why is Jane Austen so goldarn appealing? But is she better than the Bronte sisters or Edith Wharton? It's a tough call.

9. My problems sometimes seem very small when I look at the big picture. Thank goodness I do not suffer from the "tree man" affliction that seems to be the scourge of people in Indonesia.

A glimpse into the mind of an insomniac. Interesting, or scary?

Finally, the Boys!

2009-03-11T11:11:00.000-07:00

Jake recently asked me what an engineer is. I explained that engineers understand how materials work together in order to build things, like bridges and buildings and houses. To demonstrate, I had the kids experiment with Kapla blocks (in my opinion the best toy around). After much trial and error, and a few tears over fallen structures, this is what they came up with. The very tall one is meant to be an animal hospital/safari home base - aren't they so creative? If you look closely, you can see animals in the little cubbies, recovering from various injuries and illnesses. The smaller one, built by Ryan, is a home for his knights and super hero figurines. The best part? This kept them busy and not fighting for about 2 days!

Cornhusk Dolls

2009-03-10T10:09:00.000-07:00

In our pursuit of understanding American culture and history, we made cornhusk dolls. Pictured below is Anna with her doll in the various stages of construction. She has been playing with the thing all morning, and has asked to cook a Colonial meal for us to have for lunch tomorrow. Love it! My next post will be devoted to my wonderful boys, who have been sorely neglected here lately. I do love them just as much as their sister - they just never stand still long enough to be photographed!

My Tiny Dancer

2009-03-09T13:11:00.000-07:00

These are the official photos from Anna's dance competition. The red costume was danced to "Christmas Shoes," hence the sad faces. The festive costume is "Ole, Ole, Ole" by Ricky Martin, hence the smiles! So fun to watch, I am such a proud mommy.

You Really Don't Forget How!

2009-03-07T18:26:00.001-08:00

Today, I rode my bike for the first time in 8 years - since before my dear daughter was conceived. I hauled it out of the attic, filled the limp tires (they crackled a bit, which is worrisome). In its day, my bike was very stylish. It's a maroon Trek mountain bike that was purchased in 1992 from hard-earned savings from babysitting and cleaning bathrooms at a bed and breakfast. The poor girl (whose name is Stella) was covered in cobwebs and dust and in need of some TLC. After spraying W-D 40 on all metal parts and sniffing the satisfying fragrance of the spray and metal rubbing smoothly against metal, I mounted the old bike and took off down the street. Much to my joy, I did not forget how to ride. My hair streamed behind me - I had forgotten how fun it was to speed along on a bike.

I am sure that the comedy in my first try on two wheels in nearly a decade made my neighbors double over with laughter, but I don't care. My children cheered me on from the yard, then followed suit on their bikes, trying to catch me. We rode for over an hour. I taught them how to coast with their legs out over puddles, how to stand up and pedal for more speed. It's the most enjoyable time I've had with the kids in a long time. I am sure that my hamstrings will not be happy tomorrow, but I will remember how the kids thought I was supermom for that hour. Who knows? Maybe I'll take up riding again for recreation. It was just great to know I could still do it.

Time to Update my Bumper

2009-03-03T18:55:00.001-08:00

Now that we have a new president, it's time to get rid of those "W" bumper stickers. The Bush years are over, and it's time to move on. Here is the one I recommend:

Biohazard

2009-03-03T14:45:00.000-08:00

I admit it. I am not a good housekeeper. It takes every ounce of intestinal fortitude I have to clean things up and keep them orderly. It's a glitch in my brain, I think, because any halfwit is capable of cleaning a house. For me, it is an arduous undertaking and I become very overwhelmed and don't know where to begin. Heart palpitations ensue.

This is a lifelong problem. As a child, I was forever being kept in at recess to clean out my desk. I believe I have some form of ADD (or possibly schizophrenia) that keeps me from being able to keep up with the clutter. I would not consider myself to be a lazy person - but you'd never know it if you saw the state of things. There's no dirt, mind you, as I cannot abide a dirty bathroom or sticky floor. But the clutter may overtake us all, and it does not help that we live in an 1885 Victorian devoid of closet space. Our house was built at a time when people had 2 outfits and one wooden toy, so there was no need for them.

Homeschooling does not help, either. Not only does it require copious books and art supplies, but my children aren't away all day - they are home messing things up! Today I reached the breaking point. I sent the kids outside and furtively cleaned up their art corner, throwing away certain masterpieces with abandon before they re-entered the house and claimed them all as favorites.

I tossed out broken crayons, dried markers, approximately 7500 pieces of paper that were drawn upon, superhero masks, a cardboard castle and some unidentifiable thing that I believe may have been alive at some point before it got caught in a glob of glue. It is disgraceful.

Below is photographic evidence of the kids helping, in their rubber biohazard gloves (yes, I have these on hand for dangerous science experiments). Note the helter-skelter way the books are arranged on the shelf. I wonder what a psychotherapist would say about that? The lone glove on the floor is further evidence that their task was abandoned along with my hope of an ordered home. Is there any chance that the messy gene will skip a generation? Lordy, I hope so...

Dance Competition...or Glorified Toddlers in Tiaras?

2009-03-02T07:45:00.000-08:00

My daughter, the inimitable Anna (pictured above with 2 friends of her 6-member dance team), had her first dance competition over the weekend. She looked resplendent in her costumes and make-up, and danced brilliantly - her whole team did. But I did wonder, as I watched the spectacle, if it's not just beauty pageantry disguised as sport. After all, there is no dancing in the Olympics. Is it really sporty, or just for show?

Anna can do backflips, lift her leg higher than I thought gravity would allow, splits are easy and she's lifted up high by her comrades. It looks athletic, but the make-up, hair and glitter make me wonder if there is a point to it all.

I was discussing this with another mom, who understood exactly what I meant. Her son competes in gymnastics, and it all does seem much more legitimate, even though they also pay to compete and travel on Sundays to do it, commiting the heathen act of skipping church for gold medals.

We concluded that dance is giving our girls confidence, team skills, and individual growth. Is it enough? I hope so for now.

Back in the Saddle

2009-02-26T07:42:00.000-08:00

After a long winter break (from approximately the time of my surgery in October which removed a mass roughly the size of a small child from my abdomen) until this week in which we've accomplished little "book larnin' ", we are back at our daily routine and it feels fine.

Today, we got back into our Biology text from the Real Science 4 Kids series, which I believe is the best out there for kids anywhere. Rebecca Keller is a genius!

In our chapter today, we read about cells. It was hilarious to try to make my kids say "golgi apparatus" and "deoxyribononucleaic acid". But they were still, with rapt attention!

It got me thinking about DNA and why we are the way we are. For instance, do I have a messy gene that makes it nearly impossible to keep an orderly home without extreme effort, while others just click? Is it really my fault that I suffer from verbal diarrhea?

I recently had a lively debate via facebook messaging about inner circles of gal pals, and what makes an inner circle, how one qualifies, etc. I think it's all in the DNA. I am not an inner circle girl. I seem to be wired to attract very interesting, but not mainstream, people. I do not drive the "right" car and I do not care. My clothes are from Kohl's, and I only get my hair cut twice a year when I can work up the nerve to spend $40 (plus products) on myself.

The inner circle girls are the ones with the "it" factor. They are lovely, secure, fashionable people who do have the "right" car and the "right" address. Their husbands adore them (another check in the "not" column for me), they are put together. Not one of them would ever think to invite me anywhere, except maybe to be the fat, not cute girl who deflects potential suitors. Is it in our DNA to be inner circle types or not?

My friend asked why people complain to her (she is an inner circle type) about being left out. Are our egos still so fragile, even in middle age, that we are not happy with our social station in life? Are we not happy with our own friends?

For me the answer is decidedly no. From childhood, I have had a yearning to be in the "in" group; on the "A" list. I have accepted the fact that I am too quirky and opinionated, not to mention too short and with ungainly features, to be in the group. I am also afflicted with the people pleasing gene, and will go to great lengths to be part of "it" even if just for a moment. In fact, my BFF Amy and I referred to our desperation for acceptance as the "never-ending quest for popularity."

Most importantly, am I homeschooling because I don't want my own social failings in horrid school to happen to my sweet babies?

I do fear that somewhere in the nuclei of my children this gene is being replicated. My daughter is universally loved, so I think it may have skipped her. The boys are still too young to see, only time will tell.

The whole of who we are is endlessly fascinating to me, and I consider it a privilege to be teaching and re-learning with my children.

Miscellaneous Monday Musings (and a bad joke)

2009-02-23T05:45:00.000-08:00

It's Monday again, and after a night of howling winds and snow I awoke to yet another dreary, wintry morning. Gotta love Mass, where it's winter for 10 months and too expensive to live in!

Anyway, I watched the Oscars for about 10 insufferable minutes. Why, in the name of all that is holy, was Hugh Jackman picked as the host? Though I love celebs, read People.com voraciously, and covet Jennifer Aniston's hair, I cannot stand award shows. I didn't even see any of the films represented this year, as they were all maudlin, obvious and self-important. How come "Twilight" wasn't recognized by the Academy? Robert Pattison in a tux would have made the show worth watching!

As promised, here is the bad joke of the day:

With all the sadness and trauma going on in the world at the moment, it is worth reflecting on the death of a very important person, which almost went unnoticed last week.

Larry LaPrise, the man who wrote 'The Hokey Pokey' died peacefully at the age of 93. The most traumatic part for his family was getting him into the coffin. They put his left leg in. And then the trouble started.

Shut up. You know it's funny.

I am a Hypocrite, Aren't I?

2009-02-21T06:58:00.000-08:00

OK, so the winter has closed in around me and the thought of getting out of bed, let alone taking care of and teaching three children, is quite overwhelming. So on a whim I have sent (gasp) school choice applications (public school, no less. I KNOW!) to a local school, because they have a great program for gifted children (yes, my daughter and probably my sons are gifted. It's not PC to say so, but it is what it is.). I am just tired. I have lost the will to do all the work involved in homeschooling. I selfishly want time to 1) exercise 2) eat an entire lunch sitting down 3)clean my house 4) have coffee with a friend.

I am fighting my inner voice that reminds me that I homeschool because there are so many things I cannot abide about public school such as 1) making kids sit still so much 2) the long hours 3) the bad influences 4) the one-size-fits all teaching methods.

I cannot see myself as a shiny PTA mom. I can definitely see myself as a huge pain in the ass, pushing for what my kids need and simultaneously hating myself for not keeping them home.

I chose this particular school because they still have a half-day K program and for their differentiated instruction and shameless "label" of gifted for children who need it. My daughter, 7, is reading on a 10th grade level and learning to solve for x in algebraic equations. She understands molecular combination. She plays Bach effortlessly on her violin. She needs challenge to be happy. My sons, 4, add and subtract to 12s, are starting to read early readers and also need extra. So what's a mom who has lost the will to do it herownself to do?

I am looking into private schools, but will only be able to afford it if they hire me. So I have cobbled together a workable resume and sent it out all over the North Shore. I am leaving it to fate what will happen.

Am I a hypocrite, for all my ranting about the evils of public school? Or just a worn out mom who wants to give something else a try for her own sanity, and so she can enjoy the fun stuff with her kids and leave the nagging to someone else. These are the questions troubling me these days...

Break-ups are Hard On You

2009-02-17T08:24:00.000-08:00

Lately, I have had much pressure, stress and anxiety, the likes of which I've never had converge all at once. I spent most of the weekend huddled on my bed watching reruns of America's Next Top Model, emerging only to feed my children and feeling grateful that they entertain themselves. One recent event weighs on my mind most days, and I'm sure we've all been there.

It starts off so well, usually. You meet someone and it clicks. The conversation is exciting as you interrupt each other, telling stories that link experiences. Daily phone calls start. The thrill of it all makes you overlook potential problems that down the road will ultimately doom the relationship. Then it becomes necessary to break up.

I am, of course, talking about the mom friendship. After having a baby, life changes so radically you become fast friends with anyone else who understands. Most of the time, this is great. Your children play together, you bond over talk of sleepless nights, preschool choices and the subtle nuances of The Wonderpets and High School Musical.

Sometimes, lives just diverge and the friendships come to a natural stall, and you connect mostly on Facebook or through Christmas cards. No hard feelings – you are happy to bump into each other and laugh over trivial events of the past. Sort of like a nice boy you went on a few dates with but there was no lasting chemistry.

But we all have a mom friend who drives us nuts. The sound of her voice makes your fingernails tingle and eyebrows twitch. Her phone number on caller ID causes heart palpitations not unlike seeing your mother-in-law’s number.

I had such a friend until recently. Even though she clearly could not tolerate anything about me and was constantly trying to change my religious views (Christian), political leanings (conservative) and parenting style (according to her, draconian and rigid), I gamely stuck by with a fake smile on my face because our daughters were friends.

This worked for awhile, until I realized that the poor behavior of this wild child, who has very little self-control or sense of other people, was rubbing off on my own. After a playdate, I had to deprogram my daughter who would come home wondering why she had to have a bedtime and talking back, two things acceptable in a home where the parents believe adults have no business putting limits on children – but clearly not acceptable in my home, where I strive to teach my children how the world works and believe children thrive on a schedule.

I tried to remember the great things this mom did, like helping out in a pinch when I needed someone to watch my kids and her way of being so laid back and untroubled by many things.

Over about two years, incidents added up to the breaking point and it became necessary to make a clean break. Being a nonconfrontational doormat type who wants everyone to like me, it was very difficult to make the split. I tried to just turn down playdate invitations and cut conversations short, but my passive agression didn’t work.

So in the end, I turned to e-mail. I agonized over the best way to do it, and carefully worded my reasons for why I thought we didn’t need to see each other any more. I should have known it wouldn’t be so easy – much to my surprise and dismay, just like in seventh grade, my e-mail and a brutal rebuttal made the rounds to some friends, many of whom did not know the whole history of our stormy relationship. All it took was two weeks of deep breathing exercises, a trip to Florida and some damage control to finally get over the anxiety of it all.

It’s painful to end things, even more painful to explain to a child why a loved friend is not healthy to be around. But it’s part of helping them make good choices about the people they allow to influence them, and how to stand up for themselves. Breaking up is hard to do, but is certainly necessary sometimes.

Perhaps I can be bolstered enough to end another troublesome relationship...we'll see.

Things I Ponder Late At Night

2009-02-13T14:21:00.000-08:00

I often have insomnia, and end up taking Advil PM to get some zzzzz's. On occasion, though, I amuse myself by wondering about things. If anyone knows the answer to these burning questions, please let me know.

1. After 7 years, a couple shacking up is considered to have a common-law marriage and they get to avoid all the legal rigamorale. If I don't sleep with my husband for 7 years, can I have a common law divorce?

2. Is it true that boys really don't mature past age 6, they just get bigger?

3. Why do people drive on parkways and park on driveways?

4. Why do I always think of the perfect comeback or pithy comment hours or days after the opportunity to say it has passed, and I can't take back the stupid, rambling thing I said instead?

5. Am I frittering away my prime years?

6. What if one of my kids, in adulthood, does something really, really horrible? Or something really, really wonderful? How will I handle it?

7. Is all the stuff in the Freakonomics book true?

8. I often wonder what people are doing, and if it's way more fun than what I am doing. In my mind, no one else has any problems.

9. What would I do if I suddenly had unlimited money? That's a fun one....

10. What does God think of everything?

11. Why don't some certain people "friend" me on Facebook?

OK, so I have just proved that I am indeed crazy. Please tell me that I am not the only one....

Yes, of course I LOATHE Valentine's Day

2009-02-11T18:20:00.000-08:00

It is the one day of the year I dread, the most evil and contrived day of them all. What kind of person can handle the pressure? It is always a disappointment, especially when you can't stand your significant other, but still must, for show, purchase a card. Do you lie and purchase the cheesy, romantic one with the couple in silhouette on the beach? The "dirty" card? The joke card, the receipt of which is clearly the death knell of any relationship?

Years ago, I did like VD (which is my pet name for it, since I am sure many unwanted "transmissions" will happen that night). When I was dating my favorite boyfriend Steve in college, we would celebrate VD by drinking a bottle of Boone's Farm and changing the letters on the entrance sign of the student union to say things like "Welcome Fascists" instead of something more dignified. He really got me in a way no one else ever had or has yet to date! One year, he broke into the art building and made me a picnic on the roof; another he surprised me with breakfast cooked by hisveryownself and brought to my dorm room in the freezing cold. No horrid flowers, overpriced dinners or dicey cards - just fun surprises only the two of us understood.

I do, of course, have VD fantasies (or just fantasies in general). My most recent one involves an unknown crush showing up after my Zumba class to whisk me off for libations and great conversation, and not on VD itself. I know it won't happen, but hey, a girl never stops dreaming.

I keep hoping that VD will become passe. I think the worst thing that can happen is getting engaged or married on VD - how cliche and boring! Anyway, feel free to comment and prove me wrong. Perhaps I really am just a jaded, silly girl....

Sanibel

2009-02-08T19:31:00.000-08:00

Well, I did force myself onto the plane in high dudgeon over the fact that the one week we were there was the coldest in 40 years. Still, it was a far cry better than the horritrocious winter here in the frozen tundra of Massachusetts. I want to live on Sanibel someday, and spend my days in denial walking the beach and lolling about in the sun. The kids loved it, too. I am indoctrinating them young to love the warm and eschew the cold so they will support me in my old age in a sunny place. It's just fabulous. The pic above is my fantastic kids, playing on the fishing pier. Aren't they just freakin' precious?

Batman Cooks My Dinner!

2009-02-08T09:05:00.000-08:00

In an effort to teach my children usable life skills, I have started allowing them to help cook dinner. The other night, Batman made us tacos! Who knew superheroes were so versatile? Am I a lucky girl, or what?

I think he's looking to the sky for the Bat Signal from Commissioner Gordon or something...

Staple Head

2009-02-04T18:21:00.000-08:00

It's not a vacation for us without a trip to the ER. Two summers ago, it was Anna's broken arm in North Carolina. This time, it was poor Ryan who is now sporting a stylish, shiny staple on the top of his head.

While I was dutifully folding laundry and washing dishes (is there ever REALLY a vacation for a mom?), I heard a thud, beat of silence, then the wail of a boy with a head wound. Once I got over the sight of the dear child crumpled on the floor wearing his goggles, I noticed blood gushing forth from the top of his head not unlike Old Faithful.

I nearly fainted as I carried him to the kitchen and used Bounty to staunch the flow. It really is absorbent! It became clear that it was going to bleed for awhile, so I found out the location of the nearest hospital and rushed him over. While we waited for 3 hours, I got the story out of my little genius.

Turns out he was wearing the goggles because he was pretending to scuba dive, so he was looking down of course to see the imaginary coral reef. He unfortunately walked right into the sharp corner of some decorative crown molding on the TV armoire.

Ryan was a champ during the long wait and the stapling, which closed the laceration with a satisfying kerchunk sound. I still can't bring myself to look at it.

All that's left to do is wonder what strange accident awaits us next!

Live From Sanibel

2009-02-03T08:56:00.000-08:00

No, I am never coming back. I don't know if I can physically force myself onto the plane! I haven't figured out where we would stay or pay for things, but those are just details to be dealt with.... The sun is shining, and I've spent hours doing nothing but wandering the beach listening to my children chatter and play. We are all content, which is a rarity at home!

I used to come here in the winters with my grandparents, to this very condo. They are gone now, and I have gotten a little choked up more than once remembering their very selves walking the same beach (or riding, in the case of my paraplegic grandmother), sifting through shells and feeling the same warm sun on their faces. They were two of the best people who ever lived, kind and generous and loving. I was lucky to know them, and miss them every day.

There has been way too much drama in my life lately, from having to ask someone to leave my co-op for bad behaviour (both mom and child), antics of my husband and looking for a real job. Sanibel is a great place to forget it all. Sun on one's cheek and a breeze in one's hair do seem to cure everything and put the bad stuff to rest.

The best parts of the trip so far?
1. Jake learned he could swim without a floatie! He is such a superstar swimmer now.
2. Finding a cool crab with a shell that looks like giraffe fur.
3. Teaching the kids to play Monopoly on the rainy day.
4. Not wearing shoes.
5. Reading 2 books so far!
6. Watching Anna dance free on the beach.
7. Watching Ryan swing from tree branches with a look of glee on his little face.

More updates coming - and pics when I return.

Best Books Ever

2009-01-28T09:16:00.000-08:00

It's a snowy day, worthy of relaxing and reading a great book. I am making a list (you know how I LOVE lists) of the best books ever for your reading pleasure. These are the books that are definitely better than men, as they always leave one satisfied and a little sleepy.

1. The Secret History by Donna Tartt
2. Anthing by Jane Green
3. I Know This Much is True by Wally Lamb
4. She's Come Undone by Wally Lamb
5. Anything by Marian Keyes
6. My Sister's Keeper by Jodi Picoult
7. Anything by Jane Austen
8. Age of Innocence by Edith Wharton
9. Middlemarch by George Eliot
10. Anything by Louisa May Alcott
11. The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood
12. The Children of Violence series by Doris Lessing
13. Ulysses by James Joyce
14. Windchill Summer by Norris Church Mailer
15. The Garden of Eden by Ernest Hemingway
16. The Golden Notebook by Doris Lessing
17. Never Let Me Go by Kazuo Ishiguro
18. Remains of the Day by Kazuo Ishiguro
19. For fun - anything by Meg Cabot
20. The Twilight series by Stephenie Meyer
21. The Harry Potter series by J.K. Rowling
22. Certain Girls by Jennifer Weiner
23. The Idiot Girls Action-Adventure Club by Laurie Notaro
24. In God we Trust, All Others Pay Cash by Jean Shepherd
25. The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy by Douglas Adams

There are, of course, more out there. Please feel free to add your faves in the comments!

One More Reason to Avoid Public Schools

2009-01-27T10:43:00.000-08:00

This here'n picture is from Cleveland, OH - the manager of this Burger King presumbably a graduate of a local public high skool. Lordy be.

I FINALLY Understand the Stimulus Package!

2009-01-27T10:10:00.000-08:00

This was sent to me via e-mail from a friend who wants to always help me understand political things. It's too good not to share - and help others really get what our government is trying to do. It's all clear to me now!

Sometime this year, taxpayers will receive an Economic Stimulus Payment. This is a very exciting new program that I will explain using the Q and A format:

Q. What is an Economic Stimulus Payment?
A. It is money that the federal government will send to taxpayers.

Q. Where will the government get this money?
A. From taxpayers.

Q. So the government is giving me back my own money?
A. No, they are borrowing it from China. Your children are expected to repay the Chinese.

Q. What is the purpose of this payment?
A. The plan is that you will use the money to purchase a high-definition TV set, thus stimulating the economy.

Q. But isn't that stimulating the economy of China?
A. Shut up.

Below is some helpful advice on how to best help the US economy by spending your stimulus check wisely:

If you spend that money at Wal-Mart, all the money will go to China.
If you spend it on gasoline it will go to Hugo Chavez, the Arabs and Al Queda.
If you purchase a computer it will go to Taiwan.
If you purchase fruit and vegetables it will go to Mexico, Honduras, and Guatemala (unless you buy organic).
If you buy a car it will go to Japan and Korea.
If you purchase prescription drugs it will go to India
If you purchase heroin it will go to the Taliban in Afghanistan
If you give it to a charitable cause, it will go to Nigeria.

And none of it will help the American economy. We need to keep that money here in America. You can keep the money in America by spending it at yard sales, going to a baseball game, or spend it on prostitutes, beer (domestic ONLY), or tattoos, since those are the only businesses still in the US.

Can't wait for my check to arrive! But since I pay taxes, I probably won't get one anyway...

Ant Farm

2009-01-24T10:39:00.000-08:00

Anna, observing her new friends

Yes, I ordered ants to arrive via mail at my home, all in the name of educational value! They arrived today, and we carefully placed them in their habitat for further study - this week will be the letter "I" for insects, and we'll observe them as they make a home. I'll tell you what, ants arriving certainly turn an ordinary Saturday into something special! We've had praying mantis eggs, ladybug eggs and caterpillars that turn into butterflies, as well as earthworms. The ant farm is a first, and we are all very excited! Here are some preliminary pictures of the little buggers, that came with a warning that they sting. Hooboy. I'll just hope none of them escape.

Trip to the Dentist

2009-01-21T18:21:00.001-08:00

We had our bi-annual trip to the dentist today, and all the kids did great! But I think they did something weird to Jake's teeth. He's looked different the rest of the day...

Surprise Vacation!

2009-01-21T06:31:00.000-08:00

Is there anything better than a surprise vacation in the dead of winter, when we're covered in so many feet of snow one fears it will never melt? My mom owns a condo on Sanibel Island, and offered to let us use it the first week of February - we just have to get down there.

Well, the Husband must be feeling guilty about his alleged actions in Philadelphia, because he actually purchased plane tickets for 5 and agreed to go! He generally will agree to a trip, but only under crazy circumstances, like we have to drive, take a cooler of lunchmeat and stay at campgrounds to save money until I finally just say forget it.

So we're leaving January 31! Did I mention that I hate winter and love the sun? There is the problem of being seen by innocent bystanders in a swimsuit when I am fish-belly white and have loathesome thighs, but I think I can get over it. The question is - can I do enough Zumba in the next 10 days to be presentable? Another question - should I hit the tanning bed first, or is the "base tan" concept passe?

It's hard to be sad with a surprise trip on the horizon. I am picturing lazy days on the beach and some time to read, a jaunt to Ding Darling's wildlife preserve and a bike ride around the island. Don't burst my bubble by reminding me that I'll have 3 kids the whole time and my vision is just that...

Well, we're off to the dentist. If I can survive that, I can survive anything!

Hope and Change!

2009-01-20T07:00:00.000-08:00

Here is a short list of things that will change with our new president (I am a fan of lists - neat and tidy):

1. Our taxes will increase - come on, it won't be so bad.
2. The Europeans will like us again! After all, the long and rich history of minority leaders overseas will finally be matched by us ignorant Americans. I mean, the French, Germans, British and Spanish are always electing people of color! Oh, wait - hmmmmmmm.
3. The treasury will, ironically, be led by a man guilty of years of tax evasion.
4. Gitmo will close! Yeah! All the prisoners can come live here!
5. Hillary's baaaaaaack - and Bill will be running amok in DC with easy access to interns and nothing to do.
6. It will no longer be "patriotic" to question the president and make up video games throwing shoes at his head (though that was pretty funny).

Please feel free to add to the list in the comments. There must be more change a'comin'!

Random Weekend Update

2009-01-18T11:45:00.000-08:00

I awoke this morning to another 10+ inches of snow on the ground, but was relieved to find a marathon of Cycle 11 of America's Next Top Model on the Oxygen channel, which made everything palatable. I am a little concerned that my boys like that show so much, but assume they will outgrow it. At least neither has asked to be called Benny Ninja! A marathon of Snapped is on tonight, and I just realized that we suddenly have HBO. Couch potato evening, here I come!

Our weekend was a hodgepodge of activity. Anna's dance recital was a triumph Friday. She is such a star! Being the littlest in her dance company, she frequently is lifted in the air by other 7-year-olds, which is nervewracking, but she looks so darn cute in her costume.

Ryan started basketball Saturday, and Jake was so sad to not have gotten a spot. Ryan was the only one who got a place off the wait list, but Jake did watch like a champ. No pics of b-ball yet, but it was very cute.

It was great to have a humdrum, drama-free weekend, and tomorrow we are looking forward to a trip with our co-op to the awesome Wicked Fun Art in Exeter, NH. And I still have 36 hours of freedom before Husband returns! Aaah. For now, I will enjoy my clean house (thank goodness for playdates to make me clean up) and the fact that all the laundry is simultaneously clean and put away, thanks to being indoors in the snow. Sometimes it's the simple things that make me smile.

At the top are some winter pics of the kids. Notice the perspective of how deep the snow is next to my stylish minivan!

Out of the Doldrums

2009-01-16T10:29:00.000-08:00

I finished a good book last night (The Secret History by Donna Tartt, for anyone interested, which I have read at least 100 times and never tire of) and went to sleep feeling satisfied and happy - hence no maudlin posts about my issues or anger toward men (who don't always leave one drifting off to sleep satisfied and happy).

Today, to paraphrase Scarlett O'Hara, is another day. I awoke this morning to three cuddly kids scratching my back and saying, "Let's let mommy sleep a little longer." What a rare gift. So I faked sleep until they became rambunctious and we had a giant pillow fight. Keeping in the spirit of fun, we had shaped pancakes for breakfast (horses for Anna, cars for Ryan and bats for Jake), read some Mem Fox and Dr. Seuss, and are now in the throes of making 6 dozen cookies for Anna's dance recital tonight.

We couldn't decide what kind of cookies to make, so we threw in white chocolate chips, semi-sweet chips and M & Ms. I must say, they are delectable. While they are baking, we're cleaning the house. Is anything more serene than an orderly home? I think not! Right now, my house is warm and smells good, and The Husband is leaving tomorrow for a few days. Life is good! My camera broke, though, and I am saving up for a new one, so no pics of the cookies.

Anyway, today has been a good day.

Working Girl

2009-01-15T10:32:00.000-08:00

I have decided to put feelers out for teaching positions at private schools for the fall. My future is uncertain, and my kids are wearing me out - so the best case would be to teach at a place where they could also attend school for a reduced tuition. No matter how bad things get, I don't think I could ever bring myself to send them to public school.

Being out of work for the last 8 years means I have no resume or steady work experience, so I have been staying up until all hours of the night cobbling together a cohesive review of what I have been doing since becoming a mother. Does homeschooling count as teaching experience? Is my freelance writing work relevant? Where will references come from? The list goes on.

What I have realized is that, on paper, I look like a superstar. So far, I have written bullet points for my adventures as a small business owner (for 18 months), boss and chief planner of 2 homeschool co-ops, afterschool enrichment teacher and writer. In reality, I feel like I don't do much at all. Hmmmmmm. Is it my perspective or the reality that is distorted?

The thought of going back to work as a mom is daunting. I never wanted to or thought I would have to be a working mom, it wasn't part of the deal. For starters, I don't like to wake up early. Part of the reason we homeschool is so we can all sleep until 8 or later in the morning. I love spending time with my children, I really do love it (despite all my complaining). The thought of them with someone else all day puts a hole in my heart and makes me feel ill. But the reality is that I need a way to support them, for various reasons, and I can no longer be in denial of the fact that the path of my life is inevitably leading to single motherhood. According to my friend Lisa, who is a bit clairvoyant, I have until July before I have to work up the nerve to go.

How does one get past that terrifying fact to put together a resume, get through an interview, agree to take a job that requires getting up at the crack of dawn and leaving my precious kids in a classroom all day, and still have enough left over to care for them the rest of the time? This isn't how it's supposed to be, scared and lonely and trying to look good on paper to get a job teaching other people's children, so I can pay someone else to teach my kids and have some left over to pay the bills and outrageous lawyer fees that will be coming my way.

I do try to be lighthearted about the whole thing. It's a new adventure! I miss teaching! It will be nice to have a paycheck again! My kids will get a great education! I can only pray that the reality turns out so well.

I Have Been Tagged!

2009-01-14T12:24:00.000-08:00

I was tagged by Leigh and so, in the spirit of blogger fun, I'll play along! Here are the RULES:

Link to the person who tagged you
Post the rules on your blog
Write six random things about yourself
Tag six people at the end of your post and link to them
Let each person know they've been tagged

So here goes:
1. I am a classically trained opera singer and pianist.
2. I always win "whose brother is the biggest redneck" contests because my little brother has a tattoo of his pick-up truck on his shoulder.
3. My step-brother was raised by circus folk.
4. I was once in a situation where the only person who could save me was the town drunk of Chisago, Minnesota, who went by the moniker "Duck Soup." I had to spend the night in his fish house, which was a trailer on concrete blocks with holes cut in the floor for ice fishing.
5. I have always wanted to have about 6 children, and am a little sad to only have 3.
6. I truly believe that I am a southern belle trapped in New England.

People I am Tagging:
Michelle
Life is a Musical
Christine
Emilie

I only know four people with blogs! If you have one and want to be tagged, let me know and I'll link to you!

Courtney

10 Reasons Books are Better than Men

2009-01-12T19:04:00.001-08:00

1. You can read more than one every night - and no one will judge you!

2. You can read the same book over and over if it's really good, then trade it in for another when it starts to bore you.

3. Books are readily available whenever you need one.

4. Books always smell good.

5. You can put books away on the shelf when you are done with them and they stay there.

6. Books are always interesting and challenging to your intellect.

7. You can share your books with your friends.

8. You always look forward to spending time with a book.

9. A good book will never let you down.

10. If you do get ahold of a bad one, you can just stop reading in the middle and walk away.

Barack Obama...

2009-01-10T16:48:00.001-08:00

OK, it's concerning that he can't make up his mind what to eat and that he mentions "peach cobbler" more than once. How can he decide what to do about Hamas if he needs a sampler at a restaurant? And what's with the speech impediment? Was he, at one time, enrolled in the Caroline Kennedy school of the English language?

And the biggest question of all - is Obama more qualified to be a food critic, or president of the United States? You decide.

Resolutions

2009-01-04T15:53:00.000-08:00

Yes, I know that resolutions are a sure way to feel like a complete failure before the 10th of January. But I am making them anyway. My main goal is to slim down, as I have reached maximum density and feel I can no longer blame it on the twins (who are now nearly 5).

To that end, I have been taking Zumba classes and the odd Pilates mat class at the Newburyport Y. Yes, I am living large. For those of you who don't know, Zumba is an extremely sexy way to get into shape, and I often blush at the copious hip-shaking and shimmying required in a given class. Inevitably, I stand behind the tiny, perky girl in her tank top with no bra and teeny shorts who looks quite natural swiveling her hips to hot salsa music. I am the sad, fat girl in the back of the room, stumbling around and realizing that the sexy moves are what got me into trouble with the twins in the first place...

My Zumba garb consists of a giant tee-shirt, industrial strength bra to heave the girls into place, overlarge "yoga" pants and sneakers that are neither the right size nor in a style from this millenium. I am the girl everyone looks at as a warning for what could happen if you are not careful.

I want to tell them that a mere 15 years ago I was the girl in the tank top and impossibly small shorts. That the cute girl is still in there, and she's coming back if it kills me.

I think I am entering the first stages of midlife crisis. What is it really that I have done of any importance? I have not been a missionary, I have not starred in a meaningful motion picture, I have not completed the book I always wanted to write, I have not earned a salary over $32K a year (as a teacher), I have driven my husband to the underworld of very weird things and I have no visible means of support.

So to Zumba I will cling, going to as many classes with the fab and fit Tracey to regain some of the self I was before I became the perpetually anxious girl I see in the mirror now. I would post pictures, but this is a family website and the kids don't need that kind of horror show.

Yes, this is my resolution. I'll update with progress - if you know me, please make me keep it up! I hope you all well in the new year.

RETRO COMMERCIAL-Toys-Swing Wing

2009-01-01T11:39:00.001-08:00

Life would just be more enjoyable and fun if we all had one of these! Maybe we'll try to make some during our physics study later this winter...

Survival

2008-12-31T06:39:00.000-08:00

Yes, I survived a week in Maryland! Yeah! I spent yesterday rocking quietly in a corner, in my happy place, trying to make sense of the family I married into. Today, I have put all the information to rest and am ready to carry on!

Here are a few gems from the week that I must get off my chest before I can have Christmas closure this year:

1. I am lazy because I don't work full time and "contribute" to the family.
2. My children are too messy (this may actually be true).
3. While my sister-in-law's choice to terminate a pregnancy in Oct. because the baby had Down Syndrome is her choice, her body, and the best decision for her family - my choice to homeschool is wrong, wrong, wrong.
4. I am not allowed to believe that terminating a pregnancy is morally wrong - in fact, nothing is morally wrong in a family where infidelity and cruelty are "just the way men are".
5. My father-in-law was kicked out of his wife's son's basement because he has a strange, Michael Jackson-ish attachment to his oldest step-grandson. He asked if he and wife could move in with my mother-in-law, and was shocked when she said no.
6. Christmas day can actually be spent without anyone talking to anyone else.
7. Flying from DC to Boston is too much work for my mil, so we have to drive 12 hours in a van with three busy kids to see her at least twice a year, lest I be accused of keeping her from her grandchildren. But flying to LA to see Husband's brother is not.
8. I should not drive to see my family in Indiana because that is too hard on the kids.
9. I will never, ever work as hard as my mil or any Asian person, for that matter.
10. After a furtive glance at the google history on his computer, I have discovered The Husband is interested in stuff that is even beyond my scope of imagination.....yikes.

I could go on, but won't. After each Maryland visit, I am grateful for my own family. They are loud, nosy and slightly offbeat - I realized that no one to whom I am related has a normal job - we are wine experts in Napa, apple orchard owners, writers, pastors, missionaries, artists, chefs, landscape designers and nuns. But we love and protect each other. We are fun! In fact, my mother always says that we put the "fun" in dysfunctional....but that's another story.

I have been given a directive to return to Maryland in August and I am already coming up with reasons to avoid the trip. I think Anna has camp that week, or maybe the weather is supposed to be bad...I am a smart girl, and surely can come up with something!

Anyway, have a fun New Year's Eve! See you next year! (ha, ha)

Farewell, For Now

2008-12-22T06:13:00.000-08:00

We're off to The Husband's homeland of Maryland. I will have no access to computers there, as my mother-in-law doesn't believe in computers, and am not yet in posession of a laptop to escape to a "hot"zone. Not that anyone cares too much, but I won't post again for at least a week (will I survive with no e-mail or Facebook? Yikes!).

Stay tuned for crazy in-law stories in the new year! Meanwhile, stay warm and have a Merry Christmas!

Impending Trip to Bizarro World

2008-12-21T08:30:00.000-08:00

As you know, I detest winter and all it stands for. If I was in a Christmas special, I would be Heat Miser. However, with the foot of snow we got Friday and the 8-10 more inches plus sleet we are expecting today, my dreaded trip to see my mother-in-law has been delayed at least a day! Hallelujah!

My husband (and, obviously, in-laws) are Vietnamese. Even though they have been here since 1968, they still are entrenched in their culture (rightly so) and do not understand at all the way we choose to raise our children.

Trips to visit always turn into a week of being told I am lazy, stupid and not earning enough money. This is, of course, because I am a white American and we are all this way (my mil's words, not mine).

In my husband's family, the almighty dollar is king. The fact that I would willingly choose to give up a career for my children is anathema to them. My sister-in-law, whose son went into some god-awful daycare at the age of 6 weeks (which they, of course, call "school" to make themselves feel better), so she can work 50 hours a week and then leave her son again with my mil on Sundays to have a "me" day is held up to me as all that is good and holy in the world. Never mind that the poor child, who is now 4, was diagnosed with failure to thrive and stress before he was a year old....

I am forever receiving e-mails from my father-in-law detailing my failings as a wage earner. The most recent asked what I would do when poor, overworked Husband (who has a cushy, work-from-home management job with Hewlett-Packard) dropped dead of a heart attack since I "force" him to support us. I had to refrain from replying that I would see that as a great day, worthy of rejoicing in the streets and much merriment!

My mil will strike fear in my heart at least twice this coming week, threatening to retire and move in with us to watch the kids so I can work. Never mind that her three sons are selfish, reprehensible human beings and there is no way she's getting her hands on my kids.

The homeschooling really sends them over the edge to the point that it's comical. "Dey need da school-work" I will hear over and over. Never mind that in my former life I was a teacher and went to graduate school for reading and literacy instruction...

I try to be calm and change the subject, but it never works. I also cannot rebut that maybe my sister-in-law, who only spends one day a week with her son, is the one who has things a little backward. How does one defend oneself?

I do always like to remind my mil that my own mother is horrified that I work at all (part-time as a freelance writer), given the fact that Husband travels all the time and refuses to help with the house or the kids. I think the way things are is a happy balance. I earn enough so my kids can do the activities they enjoy, and for a margarita once in awhile. I don't feel we need a fancy house, car or every toy in the store, but maybe that's a character defect on my part.

Sorry this post sounds so angry. If any of you have tips on deflecting in-law hatred, please pass them my way. In the meantime, and I can't believe I'm saying this, let it snow!!!!!

Welcome, Jordyn-Grace

2008-12-19T05:06:00.000-08:00

My hero, Michelle Duggar, has given birth to baby 18! Can you even imagine? That woman is a saint. My favorite quote from the news outlets is that "they hope to have more." My goodness. I must admit that I would love one more, but cannot imagine how anyone keeps a house of 18 children under control. She has the gift!

Slacking Off

2008-12-17T05:19:00.000-08:00

Do you ever feel like you're slacking off? We got off to a great start this year, with set school hours and much accomplished. Then, I had my surgery to remove painful endometriosis, and by the time I came out of my percocet coma everything had gone to pot. In just 4 days, under the "care" of their father (who ignores them and believes strongly in TV as a babysitter) I had 3 kids who were suddenly refusing to do anything without a fight.

In my weakened state, I gave in to them and the start of schoolwork kept getting pushed farther and farther into the morning as they fought over computer games and commited much surly stomping of feet when told to turn the damn thing off.

I am decidedly not one of those parents who call themselves radical unschoolers. This group believes that asking anything of a child is coercion and to be avoided at all costs. But somehow we got to this state, mostly because I am too tired to fight with three kids and it's way easier to pretend to be all progressive and let the kids do what they want and find a way to fake educational value. I just can't make myself believe that this is the best way to raise kids in our society, where jobs and higher education do not run by those principles.

Sure, we had bursts of science experiments and read a few books, but that is not sufficient for my oldest, who is extremely bright and capable of more.

All that has happened in my house is that we have devolved into chaos, with no schedule and kids wandering about making a mess. This week, we have gone into crackdown mode. The kids actually seem relieved and I feel more in control. It is all my fault, not theirs. This entry is my atonement for lazy parenting for the last couple of months. Oh, please let me get back on track!

The Holiday Which Must Not Be Named

2008-12-13T05:17:00.001-08:00

So I spent all yesterday trapped indoors after a horrendous ice storm incapacitated our travels. After purging and organizing 2 rooms (whew!), I decided to look at some recent news online. I got annoyed, as usual, at the prolific use of the word "holidays" when we all know that everyone is talking about.....CHRISTMAS! Yes, Christmas, the Judeo-Christian celebration of the birth of Jesus. Santa and all that. A bonafide federal holiday! Yet, no one will say it aloud.

It takes a whooooole lot to offend me, and the fact that people are so afraid of saying Merry Christmas does the trick. So do set-ups mocking Christmas and all it means to people of faith. The icing on the cake was a story about how a group is planning a nativity with two Marys and two Josephs in order to be provocative and show what things would be like had Mary and Joseph been homosexual. Well, as far as we know they weren't. And what is the point? I am an advocate of free speech, and these people are free to do what they wish, and I am free to not go look at it. I can hear the cries of homophobia now - but I am not a homophobic. I am just proud of the history of my faith system and it saddens me to see it turned into a political statement.

But I started thinking about how Christmas and Christians are allowed to be diminished and disrespected in ways that no other religion or observance is allowed to be. What if, during Eid, someone thought to set up a display with 2 Mohammads? There would be outcry and fighting in the streets.

Who, really, would be harmed by a little wave and a Merry Christmas? If someone said Happy Hannukah to me, I wouldn't mind. Happy Kwanzaa? Sure - even though no one really knows what it is, and it was kind of made up in the 60s by a guy who spent time in prison for brutally torturing and beating two women in the early 1970s and is a Marxist/secular progressive....

But I digress. I love Christmas. I love shopping for gifts and finding unique things for people I love. The music is wonderful, the decorations lovely, the story timeless. I look forward every year to the 24-hour A Christmas Story marathon. It's the simple things that bring joy this time of year, and let's face it. It's because of Christmas.

Vigilante Kids

2008-12-08T15:10:00.000-08:00

I started out today thinking I would write about Christmas. Yes, the holiday-which-must-not-be-named in our uber-sensitive culture of political correctness. But then I read a story on the front page of our local paper outlining a proposed plan to turn Georgetown’s Penn Brook Elementary School students into vigilantes, taking on possible gunmen armed only with backpacks and a garbage can. Who do school officials think these kids are, little MacGyvers?

Apparently, time will soon be taken out of the school day to teach children how to react in case an armed maniac should run into their classroom. Never mind wondering if the money for this “training” would be better spent beefing up security so the gunman couldn’t get in in the first place…but I digress.

The plan is to teach fourth- and fifth-grade students to fend of the perp with backpacks, chairs and books because these are excellent shields against bullets, right? Or will it give the kids a false sense of security. My other thought was, what happens if the gunman knows that only the fourth and fifth graders have been trained in using everyday objects as security measures, and meanders into the third-grade classroom down the hall?

I am all for awareness of danger and knowing how to protect oneself. I have spent a good deal of time teaching my kids about what to do if they are ever approached by strangers or grabbed by one.

The main reason this article got to me so much is because it really underscores the very real threat of children having to be placed in the position of taking on a gunman. So on top of everything else expected of the kids, like sitting still for long periods, waiting for classmates to finish work, being confused by or not challenged by the work and therefore frustrated, and the stress of MCAS, they also have to always have a niggling fear in their minds that someone is going to come into school and shoot them.

I have filed all this information in the part of my brain labeled “more reasons I make financial sacrifices to homeschool”. Yes, I realize that I cannot insulate my children from danger. That they could be harmed as they go about their lives and during classes where I am not in attendance. But I can sure as heck keep them out of a place where it is no longer a really big deal for a shooting to occur.

As for my own kids, I bought the boys weapons for Christmas. Yes, I did. Marshmallow launcher guns and a real bow-and-arrow set, complete with primary-colored target. I passed on the hatchet/knives kit for this year, but expect they request it within the decade. They will be trained in real ways to keep themselves safe when they are old enough and out on their own.

For now, it is my job to be their protector and that is what I will do.

Snow, Schmow

2008-12-07T07:24:00.000-08:00

I loathe the snow and winter in general, so it's a real mystery why I choose to live in Massachusetts when we could pick up and go to a warmer climate at any moment given the nature of The Husband's job.

Today, I woke up to flurries and overexcited children, who don't realize that all the first snowfall means is that it's a good 6 months before it will be remotely warm again. Six loooooong months of forcing hands into mittens and heads into hats; of a constant trail of slush through the entryway of the house and cries of dismay when shirtsleeves get stuck in coat armholes. Six months with nearly no sun, a constantly filthy car and lots of time indoors. Blech.

I do know some borderline insane people who enjoy this time of year. They are heartier than I. I believe that I was meant to be a southern belle, sitting on a porch in the scorching heat accepting mint juleps and sweet tea from my adoring suitors, not unlike Scarlett O'Hara, whose great line, "I'll just think about that tomorrow. After all, tomorrow is another day," rules much of my life of denial.

I am sure that the kids will force me to spend a half hour later today squeezing and coercing reluctant bodies into snow pants, boots, etc. for 15 minutes worth of play time, then leave all their stuff strewn about like the snowflakes themselves. Each year, I try to convince myself that I really do like winter - that I love sledding, skiing and ice skating. But I am just a soft, warm-weather girl at heart and it's time I owned up to it.

As a homeschool mom, though, I am supposed to love all kinds of weather and be willing to hike in it, pointing out all sorts of seasonal changes and the like to my children. Am I causing irreparable gaps in their education? I think I can risk it...I will take tidepools over a winter wonderland any day! So I will now go into my winter depression - perhaps I should buy a sunlamp? - and spend my days hoping for an early spring.

Wrapping Paper Cheer

2008-12-03T11:10:00.000-08:00

So, my wrapping paper kit from Hearthsong (http://www.hearthsong.com/) arrived today amid much fanfare and jubilation - and that was just me! We got on our junky painting clothes and made some paper with which to lovingly wrap Christmas gifts for the cousins. It turned out great! We plan to make some more tomorrow when the first stretch of paper dries, and then add flair, like googly eyes, glitter and more! Poor Jake has pneumonia, so this was a nice and quiet activity for him today. Ryan refused to be photographed

Thanks to the Internet...

2008-12-02T08:28:00.000-08:00

I just want to thank all of you for your educational emails over the past year.

Thanks to you, I no longer open a public bathroom door without using a paper towel.

I can't use the remote in a hotel room because I don't know what the last person was doing while flipping through the channels.

I can't sit down on the hotel bedspread because I can only imagine what has happened on it since it was last washed.

I can't enjoy lemon slices in my tea or on my seafood anymore because lemon peels have been found to contain all kinds of nasty germs including feces.

I have trouble shaking hands with someone who has been driving because the number one activity while driving alone is picking your nose.

Eating a Little Debbie sends me on a guilt trip because I can only imagine how many gallons of trans fats I have consumed over the years.

I can't touch any woman's purse for fear she has placed it on the floor of a public bathroom.

I must send my special thanks to whoever sent me the one about poop in the glue on envelopes because I now have to use a wet sponge with every envelope that needs sealing.

Also, now I have to scrub the top of every can I open for the same reason.

I no longer have any money at all, but that will change once I receive the $15,000 that Bill Gates/Microsoft and AOL are sending me for participating in their special e-mail program.

I no longer eat KFC because their chickens are actually horrible mutant freaks with no eyes or feathers.

I no longer use cancer-causing deodorants even though I smell like a water buffalo on a hot day.

Because of your concern I no longer drink Coca Cola because it can remove toilet stains.

I no longer can buy gasoline without taking someone along to watch the car so a serial killer won't crawl in my back seat when I'm pumping gas.

I no longer drink Pepsi or Dr Pepper since the people who make them are atheists who refuse to put 'Under God' on their cans.

I no longer use Saran wrap in the microwave because it causes cancer.

And thanks for letting me know I can't boil a cup of water in the microwave anymore because it will blow up in my face...disfiguring me for life.

I no longer check the coin return on pay phones because I could be pricked with a needle infected with AIDS.

I no longer go to shopping malls because someone will drug me with a perfume sample and rob me.

I no longer receive packages from UPS or FedEx since they are actually Al Qaeda in disguise.

I no longer shop at Target since they are French and don't support our American troops or the Salvation Army.

Thanks to you, I can't use anyone's toilet but mine because a big brown African spider is lurking under the seat to cause me instant death when it bites my butt.

And thanks to your great advice, I can't ever pick up $5.00 dropped in the parking lot because it probably was placed there by a sex addict waiting underneath my car to grab my leg.

Seriously, what did people worry about before you could find all these facts online? I can only imagine....

Crystal Snowflake Experiment

2008-11-30T15:51:00.000-08:00

We had a sick boy the last couple of days, so we did what any self-respecting homeschool family would - we made Borax snowflake crystals. They came out really cool! We're going to try some later this week using food coloring, just to see. Here's how we did it, from the website www.creativekidsathome.com:

Materials - pipe cleaners, thread, wool, water, borax, disposable container (we used Cool-Whip tubs)

Create the snowflake shapes from pipe cleaners. Ours, as you can see from the pics, look kind of like fancy pretzels, but you can kind of see the sparkle. Cut one pipe cleaner in three pieces and twist them together in the center. Tie a thread or wool around each of the arms to create a circle.Take one pipe cleaner and twirl it into a spiral shape.Take two pipe cleaners and twist them together in the center. Bend the pieces to create square or rectangular sections of the snowflake.

Choose a container that is wide and deep enough to allow the snowflakes to float freely. Find a stick or ruler that can sit across the top of the container. Use the thread to tie the snowflakes to the stick.

Have an adult heat some water to boiling and pour it into the container. Add about 1/4 cup of borax for every 2 cups of boiling water. Stir until it dissolves. If all the borax dissolves, continue adding more borax until a bit is left not dissolved.

Put the stick over the container so that all the snowflakes are floating in the borax solution. Try to arrange them so that they don't touch each other.
Leave them over night to let the crystals form.

Borax is a mineral (sodium tetraborate) that is commonly sold as a laundry booster. I personally use the 20 Mule Team Borax, available at any grocery store. Do not use laundry soap with borax added.

Borax is a chemical and must be handled with care. Never leave it where young children can get to it.

Hints:
Use colored pipe cleaners to create colorful snowflakes.

Try adding food coloring to the solution to get colorful snowflakes.

Watch out, Angelina! Brad's Mine Now!

2008-11-29T12:35:00.001-08:00

Try JibJab Sendables® eCards today!

OK, We Rallied!

2008-11-26T11:36:00.001-08:00

While I was in the shower, the kids availed themselves of my big sweaters, made up a hula dance, and performed it for me complete with my shoes, mittens, baseball caps and purse. They were so funny and cute, I had to share! They do have an element of Oliver Twist about them as well; I kept expecting them to ask for more gruel, please. I am not sure why, but Anna insisted on holding out a wrapped bar of soap. Their performance has greatly improved my mood and I now think they're the best kiddos on the block again. (Please ignore the mess on the floor and squashed couch cushions. There can only be so much expected of me in a morning).

Today I am Too Tired To...

2008-11-26T09:09:00.000-08:00

...make my kids do anything. Yes, there are days like this, when everyone (including mom) is grouchy and on edge. So far, we've had fights over a cardboard tube, computer time, taking a bath, changing underwear and brushing teeth - my patience is gone and we've not even had lunch, let alone accomplished any of the super fun Thanksgiving lapbook activities I had planned!

Then, I remembered why we are homeschooling. It's so we can feel free to NOT do the activities if no one is in the groove. So we can have days where underwear doesn't matter (at least for the kids). After all, a day of computer games is not going to kill them, especially the ones they like, such as Peep and the Big, Wide World or Warrior Cats.

Anna rattled off her 7, 8 and 9 times tables and practiced her violin this morning. The boys laughed at some Mr. books - you remember, Mr. Messy, Mr. Bump, etc. I think that's plenty of book-learnin' for today, and probably more than their schooled counterparts did on a half day before a holiday - one of Anna's friends said all they were doing today was switching desks!

All the worrying over if they are learning enough has been getting me down these days, and sometimes I fear that I might be becoming an unschooler (don't tell anyone). So I am going to let things go today, and spend some time re-evaluating things.

In other news, I am trying to come up with an elaborate scheme to get out in the next few days (a scheme is needed, since I am generally not allowed to leave if it's for something fun) to see the "Twilight" movie. Any suggestions would be much appreciated, as would the offer to accompany me. Is it pathetic to see a vampire love story by myself? I almost don't care....

A Short List of Things I am Ashamed to Admit

2008-11-23T11:12:00.000-08:00

It's time to get some of my quirks out of my system as part of a soul-cleansing I feel coming on. Here are several things I do that cause me shame, and need to be purged:

1. I pre-ordered and devoured quickly all of the Harry Potter books. I also re-read them on a regular basis, and am sad that the release of the new movie was put out until July 2009.

2. At night, I google old boyfriends and sometimes consider contacting them.

3. I am addicted to Facebook and often ignore my kids to take useless quizzes and participate in cyber foodfights.

4. I am also addicted to conservative talk radio, 96.9 WTTK with Jay Severin and Michael Graham, in particular. I sometimes call in as well, and get a thrill about being on the radio.

5. I harbor an unrequited crush on a man I know casually, and blush and giggle whenever I see him. I have no doubt he believes me a complete idiot.

6. I sometimes fantasize about getting cosmetic surgery.

7. In my mind, I am thin with the ass of a 22-year-old and I look good in low-rise jeans. In reality, I have a post-partum muffin top that seems to be here to stay. The denial gets me out the door in the morning - without it, I would probably be an agorophobic.

8. I secretly wish I could have just one more baby and get choked up whenever I see newborns.

9. I am obsessed with the new "Twilight" series, and plan to ignore my kids this afternoon so I can finish the first installment.

10. I feel a strong letdown whenever a cycle of America's Next Top Model ends and wonder what I am going to do on Wednesday nights now.

I am sure there are more shameful things I do, I have just blocked them out for now. Please feel free to point them out to me, as the need arises.

Gearing up for Christmas

2008-11-21T10:27:00.000-08:00

In a valiant effort to keep a perpetual smile on face despite the fact we are visiting my mother-in-law (who hates me and all my choices with a passion that cannot be denied) for Christmas this year, I am spending waaay too much time online making festive and foolish videos of my family. Here is my favorite one from JibJab, including a rare sighting of the erstwhile father of my children!

Sometimes it's Easy to be Proud

2008-11-19T14:48:00.000-08:00

I took my kids to their favorite play place yesterday (Rumble Tumble in Portsmouth, NH, if anyone's in the area). For awhile we had the place to ourselves, and then some older children trickled in. One of the girls had Down's Syndrome, and I watched curiously to see what my own kids would say or do. My daughter ran right up to her and invited her to play the game, which somehow involved cats (due to Anna's obsession with the Warriors books). The girl declared she wanted to be a dog, and that was OK with Anna as long as she was a nice one.

My boys joined in, pretending with the girls to be animals in various states of distress, who had to be rescued by the others. Two kids said audibly that they "didn't want to play with that girl" (meaning the one with Down's) and went over to play in another section. Anna carried on with her new friend, asking her name, etc. They had a wonderful time, taking turns being different animals and playing rescue.

The girl's mother came over to me and asked where Anna went to school. I said I homeschooled, and that mom said she wasn't surprised and that the only children who have wholly accepted her daughter in new situations are homeschooled. We had a lovely chat until it was time to go, and my mommy pride swelled.

I waited to see if Anna would mention the girl, or ask about her appearance or voice, but no questions came - from her or the boys. She just talked with excitement about her new friend Cassidy and how much she hoped we would cross paths again. I needed a moment like that to see that what I am doing is a good thing, as we all have doubts. Watching my little girl be so blind to differences in another person was one of the greatest moments of my mommyhood, and I hope it continues.

Why I Love the Duggars

2008-11-15T15:50:00.000-08:00

For those of you who don't know them, they are a family on TLC with 17 children and one on the way. Yes, they are a little creepy in that they all dress kind of alike and the girls don't cut their hair and all their names (except mom Michelle) start with the letter J AND they live in Arkansas. But I love watching them, especially the mom. They are a great-looking family, perpetually good natured and kind to one another. Michelle is calm and rational, and never raises her voice. She homeschools them all, teaches the kids to care for one another and makes a mean tater-tot casserole.

There is controversy in the blogosphere about their religion and their decision to not use birth control. However, they have no debt, their home is immaculate, they work hard, the kids are clean and good citizens.

I am the first to admit that I can barely manage my three children, who some days seem forever bent on driving me to commit extreme alcohol consumption (so far, I have resisted). When I think I can't go on, I hear Michelle's sweet voice in my head as she gently steers her children right. Everyone needs a role model, and right now my greatest wish would be to meet this incredible woman and listen to her secrets. She could teach me a lot.

This afternoon, as a cold New England breeze made riding bikes impossible and the kids clamored to go indoors, I channeled Michelle for a little while. We made delish chocolate chip and molasses cookies, Anna did a little violin concert for us and I diffused a fight involving a red pom-pom being weilded harshly from one brother to another without yelling. I also successfully restrained myself from sending a snarky reply to the woman who barely knows me, but felt OK sending me a link to an education program that helps teach children empathy and non-agressive play techniques. Hmmmmmm. Trying to tell me something about my very normal boys? Sorry, dont' want them to be girls! But I digress....

In this age of children and teens run amok and parents who delegate the raising of their children to daycares, nannies and schools, the Duggars are a refreshing change. Their innocence and genuine contentment are something to which we can all aspire. Michelle, if you ever read this, give me a call. I need you!

Worm Condo

2008-11-11T14:56:00.000-08:00

The man with whom I share a legal bond and three children finally decided to replace the attic window that rotted and fell out of its casing in June. This required the tossing of wood, asbestos shingles, a rusty wheel and other treasures onto the ground. Since it had just rained, and our driveway was covered in worms, my kids decided to build a worm house using all the junk they found. I am counting this in my homeschooling as 1) art, 2) architecture, 3) natural science and 4) socialization. Here are the pictures of the lovely worm home, which is still intact in the side of our little hill. Note: the thing that looks like a joint in one of the pictures is NOT a joint or a cigarette butt. It's just a random piece of paper that translated as such onto the film. Also, the kids are wearing their helmets of their own accord - they thought it prudent to put them on as to avoid the flying debris from the attic. They do not have a medical condition requiring them....anyway, enjoy the worm condo.

A Short List of Old Boyfriends Who Would Make Worse Husbands Than the One I Married

2008-11-09T18:39:00.001-08:00

I really dated some doozies in my formative years. The picture is not actually any of the boys I went out with, but a close approximation. Even though my husband has many flaws (like some very weird addictions and extreme cheapness), at least he's gainfully employed. Here is a list of just a few of the men I am glad I never married:

1. Ron K., who informed me he slept with his stepmother while we were visiting her in her double-wide trailer in southern Indiana. I also met him at an under-21 club when I was 17 and he was decidedly over 21. Should've been my first clue...

2. Cory P., whose main goal in life was being a manager of a record store.

3. Ed S., who failed to mention he was a Chief Warlock of a witch coven and also a Satan worshipper - I found out from a jealous fellow wiccan who told me at a party.

4. Jon H., the soulful jazz guitarist, who recently spent several years in the Barnum and Bailey Circus.

5. Scott F., who was cool because he had a pilot's license and flew me around, but was boring as dead leaves when on the ground.

6. Joe (can't remember his last initial) who was just plain sleazy.

7. Paul (also can't remember the last initial), who was always yelling at me for using napkins and other throw-away items, and for showering daily. He was green before it was trendy and not very nice about it.

I am sure there are more that I have thankfully forgotten. When things are bad, I will just think about how it could be worse. Much, much worse.

For My BFF Amy

2008-11-07T20:06:00.001-08:00

Yes, I have a BFF. We became friends in the third grade when, after I was kissed by the captivating, bespectacled redhead Danny Noe at the top of the curly slide during recess which resulted in my life and limb being threatened by the bully Libby Mellinger, she saved me and immediately we became inseparable. Her name is Amy, and I love her like a sister.

I was thinking about all the things we have done in our lives, and how she is the only one who gets why I am funny (everyone else actually believes I want my husband to die. I don't, really, at least not until the estate gets a little bigger). She is now the lovely mother of 4 wonderful children, and also homeschools (though she is not rebellious like I am). We both lament our messy homes and lack of free time, but ultimately really like our children and want to be with them.

In youth, we were forever trying to be popular. Amy coined this phase "our never-ending quest for popularity". I am sad to report the quest just sort of faded, and neither of us reached the pinnacle of social success. Our biggest attempt included choreographing and performing an alluring dance (with 3 other friends) to "Celebration" by Kool and the Gang in the 5th grade talent show. She, the more realistic of the two of us, knew that if anything we'd become less popular. I, the one who is perpetually embroiled in unrealistic fantasy to this day, envisioned Queen Bee Christy Metzing asking us to teach her and the other popular kids the dance at recess and taking us into their fold. Since Amy is infinitely smarter in all ways, our social stock did indeed plummet.

But we always had fun. I loved going to her house, because her mom was a great devotee of Hostess snacks. I don't believe there was ever a time that the pantry wasn't well-stocked with Crumb Cakes. Once, we buried an old lipstick in her yard, and we tortured her brother, who to this day speaks only in grunts. We immensely enjoyed torturing my mother, once by brandishing matches in the woods and threatening to "blaze a trail". In our baton class, we were taught a routine to "Superfreak" by Rick James. Whatever was that teacher thinking!

We were once yelled at by the elderly couple across the street from my house while singing/playing piano for our own rendition of, "Tonight, I Celebrate My Love for You." Later on, I realized with horror that we had just performed "Kiss" by Prince on karaoke night at the Bombay Bicycle Club in front of my future step father. Music, for some reason, was always a big part of our time together.

We went to rival colleges, I to the great Indiana University, she to Purdue (also known as Undue Perversity). She was in a sorority; I just mocked them with my unsuitable, mohawk wearing boyfriend and shot the poor pledges with water guns during rush. She married the perfect man; I, well, didn't. She's tall and dark; I am squat and blond. But through it all we have never forgotten all the times we've laughed until we cried (and after all our collective kids, probably peed a little, too). Amy always listens and doesn't make fun of me when I am sad, at least not until later when I can see the humor. She is as good as a soothsayer in predicting the next girl to be eliminated from America's Next Top Model, too.

So here's my ode to Amy, the best girl there is!

Yes, this is a picture of Amy and her good-natured and tolerant husband, Jason, at a medieval festival. Can you see why I love her so?

REM

2008-11-05T05:40:00.000-08:00

Remember that crazy group from the 90s? I have the song, "It's the End of the World as We Know It" running through my head. I am also lamenting the fact that I got so little REM-level sleep last night, after tossing and turning until nearly 3am after the Republicans were so soundly trounced. Even the people of my homeland, Indiana, went for Obama. I was also imagining other things not mentionable here in the blogosphere, but hey, a girl's mind can wander, right?

Obama promises to bring change. Well, I had food poisoning once. That was a change, but I can't say it was a good one! I did wake up this morning and the earth is still turning, my kids still think it's funny to hide in a cabinet and be very quiet while I pretend to look for them (for the 18th morning in a row), and I still have trouble filtering things I say before they come spewing forth from my loud mouth. Perhaps it will not be so bad after all.

The kids just came in to inform me that they have built a fort for Rosie, beloved pet. The pictures below represent what happens when you let children run amok in the yard. I love their blissful ignorance that their life has changed, that they are living in historic times (yes, I voted against this president-elect, but I can't deny a little excitement that I was here when the race barrier came down a bit, and we have a president who is half white, half something else like my own children).

Fat Feet

2008-11-02T05:19:00.000-08:00

I went shoe shopping last night. For most women, this is a blissful experience, only rivaled by having one's house professionally cleaned while one sits by on the couch, enjoying Ghiradelli squares and a nice shiraz while watching the housecleaner scrub the floors. For me, it is an exercise in frustration that I only subject myself to when my former shoes are nothing but tatters and can no longer function.

I knew I was different even as a young child, when we'd go shoe shopping and my mother would announce to the salesperson, "We need double wides. This child has Fred Flintstone feet." All eyes would immediately dart to my feet, as though they were Harry Potter's lightning bolt scar. They closely resemble rectangles with stubby toes, and could indeed propel a car made of stone wheels.

A particularly bad time for me was in fifth grade, when jelly shoes were all the rage. I squeezed my feet into a pair, only to have my flesh ooze out of the little holes, not unlike play-doh through a garlic press. Determined to be in style, I lived through the pain for the morning, until my circulation was completely cut off and the shoes had to be carefully removed by cutting the plastic with small toenail scissors. "Don't you know better? Your feet will never be cute and small," said my mother as she encased my damaged feet safely in my brother's Converse.

So I bypass the adorable, strappy heels and the ballet flats and head to the industrial strength shoes with clunky heels and a "wide toe box". I have, on occasion, shopped in the men's department. The only relief I have had came during the grunge phase of the early 90s, when roomy Doc Martens were acceptable.

My current shoes were in such bad shape they had holes (colored in with a Sharpie to hide it on the black pair) and the interior looked and smelled like the inside of an apartment in the projects. I spent several days psyching myself up for a trip to Kohl's for new shoes - I have to go to places where it's self-serve, because I cannot bear the thought of springing my hideous feet on an unsuspecting shoe salesman.

After looking longingly at the shiny patent-leather, low-cut pumps in cherry red that I always covet, I moved to the sturdy shoes. After trying them all on, I settled on a pair I like in brown and black. Then, I spied some Mary Jane heels that looked like they were well-suited for the tranny population! They had them in my size! I tried them on and they fit! I quickly tossed them into my bag, envisioning a day soon when I would muster up enough courage to put on some tights and wear them with a sassy skirt (another fashion item I have trouble pulling off).

With a few new pairs of shoes in tow, I left the store in relief that I won't have to do it again for at least a year. Whew! Now back to my regular life...

New Month, New Challenges

2008-11-01T05:36:00.000-07:00

I have signed up for NaNoWriMo. There, it's out. I have committed to writing a novel in a month. I don't know if I can do it, but it does sound like great fun. The goal of NaNoWriMo is to write a 175-page tome in the 30 days of November. It's supposed to be stream-of-consciousness style writing, with no editing or careful word usage (that can be done later). Then, you send the mess out to literary agents, and hopefully become the next JK Rowling. Since my clever pitches to agents last month have so far gone unanswered, perhaps this is the way to go. Now all I need is a topic about which to write....

I am also taking a bread-making class as part of my image makeover to a calm, lovely person who feeds her family from the fruits of her hands instead of a shrew who buys everything at Market Basket (though calm, lovely anarchist may be a bit difficult to pull off).

Updates are coming! Now I am off to recover from Halloween.

Halloween Memories

2008-10-29T04:56:00.000-07:00

My mom wouldn't let us celebrate Halloween. In her mind, a legion of demons would whisk our precious souls away and we'd spend our days doing satanic ritual killings of chickens and other small animals and possibly become practitioners of Santeria. "It's the devil's night," she would say as my brothers and I were sent off to school to suffer the torment of bullies for being the only ones not in costume, clutching our notes instructing the teacher to send us to the library during the Halloween party.

The only upside of this is that the dreamy Doug Cline's mother was also a great believer in the evil of Halloween, so for that one hour every year he was forced to hang out with me among the smell of moldy books as we received looks of annoyance from the librarian, who most likely wished our crazy moms would have just kept us home and let her have an hour of peace. Looking back, I wonder that too. Why not make it a fun "sick" day and let us avoid the humiliation?

For someone who was already a social outcast, I came to dread Halloween with a passion. I only wanted to fit in and be like the other kids, maybe make a friend. I had visions of trick-or-treating, wearing a Marcia Brady costume or something equally fab, with the popular kids encircling me to make me one of their own, if only for one night.

But we had to shut off all the lights and go to a movie or the mall, or worse - to my grandparent's house to help them pass out candy to all the kids with normal parents. My Nana and Pop were great celebrators of Halloween and any holiday, and would sneak us candy when mom wasn't looking. It was small consolation to three kids who just wanted to be at the big Halloween party at Boone Village shopping center, the hub of activity where all the youth converged after trick-or-treating for dancing, hayrides and fun galore!

The Halloween memories are the strongest in my mind from childhood, I don't know why. But I think it's why I let my kids celebrate it! They are already different because they homeschool. Though they love it now, I am bracing myself for the day they want to go to school "to be like everyone else". So for Halloween night, they get out among the other kids (and teenage girls dressed like hookers) for all the fun. I stick close, in case a hungry demon tries to get too close to their souls. And look forward to bedtime when I can raid the stash...

Some Days I Wish...

2008-10-28T05:05:00.001-07:00

OK, I admit it. Sometimes I wish my kids went to school. There, it's out! My dirty secret has wormed its way out of my rotten-tomato heart and into the blogosphere. Although I know, rationally, that homeschooling is best for everyone and if they actually were in school I would be "that mom" who drives teachers and administrators nuts and becomes a story to be told in the teacher's lounge.

Homeschool moms are not supposed to ever wish their kids away! We are supposed to be serene, always gently in control of our children, who look up at us with rapt attention and always get along. We are to skip happily through the neighborhood, shining beacons of a more positive life. The truth is, it's often smoke and mirrors.

On good days, it's very, very good. On bad days, it's awful. I would estimate that 90 percent of the time, we have good days, meaning we do lessons, get where we need to go, no one bleeds and we mostly get along.

Bad days. Whew. They often send me running for the bathroom, the only place with a locked door where a mom can find some peace. On bad days, they torment each other, throw things, refuse to cooperate. There is much wailing and gnashing of teeth, similar to the Bible's description of hell. And that's just me!

Take last Friday, for example. My children apparently all simultaneously became possessed of the devil's most terrible demons and proceeded to shriek, hit, declare math "too hard" and roll around on the floor in agony spewing pea soup, destroy another's artwork, throw sticks and whine in general. None of the old standbys worked. They would not give in to the lure of baking; even Jake could not be distracted by his favorite pasttime of folding clothes. I even played the TV card to no avail, and wish I'd been savvy enough to remember it's OK to use the Santa card!

Thank God it's now dark by 8! I tossed them all into bed early after a quick story (picked by me - I wasn't about to let them fight over it), took some Advil and lay down with a cool cloth on my forehead.

The word "school" danced through my head. All the hours of child-free leisure I would have! I did indulge, for a moment, in a scandalous fantasy of having a clean house, time to grocery shop alone, having a job that would garner personal satisfaction and monetary gain, and just plain peace and quiet. Then, the scene turned to loneliness, the loss of the excitement of wondering what we will all learn in a day, the loss of getting to be the one to see their faces light up when they figure out something new.

For all the bad days, I really do believe that I am the best one for the job and it truly is a privilege to be able to be their mom. Now if only I could figure out how to get spaghetti sauce off the ceiling....

Panic in the Schools

2008-10-25T06:06:00.000-07:00

A few days ago, there was widespread panic over an alleged gunman wandering aimlessly around Newburyport (the same town banning sweets in school). One mom overreacted after misunderstanding a conversation, and reported that the person had entered the elementary school, which has no locks on the doors or security system. After a manhunt that lasted for hours, a reverse-911 call to homes, and a lockdown of the schools until 4 pm, the whole thing just kind of fizzled out with the gunman, probably a hunter, never found.

A panic ensued among the mommies, quite understandably. How is it, in post-Columbine days, that anyone can enter the unlocked doors of elementary schools? The only school in town with adequate security, it seems, is the catholic Immaculate Conception school - where per-pupil tuition is about half of what is spent per child in the government school. According to the superintendent, there is no money for upgraded security, so you'd better vote to increase your taxes! For the Children! But there is money for annual, fairly large raises for staff and administrators, for "wellness" studies and additional administration staffing........but I digress.

On that day, I was so glad to have my little ones close at hand. It could very easily be the elementary school down the street from us, which is also never locked. I know that we can never fully protect our kids, and that they are not to be raised in a bubble, but I just don't get it how parents can blindly send their children off to a place that is not secure, where daily there are reports of teachers having sexual relationships with students, where cries for "more money" yield nothing but fat paychecks for administrators and extra services on silver platters for so-called special needs kids.

So paint me as a quirky anarchist. I'll gladly accept that characterization if only to avoid the daily problems and worry the public schools inspire.

No More Bums!

2008-10-24T06:25:00.001-07:00

Hallelujah and Glory Be! I never thought this day would come, the end of the potty line. My last child has announced that he now wants to wipe his own bum. I observed his capabilities, and have given him the green light to take care of his own personal hygeine.

No more diapers! No more bums! But that also means no more babies in the house, and for that reason I am a bit maudlin today. Even though it wouldn't be at all practical to have any more babies, I think I will always want "just one more". Just one more time to hold a newborn, to watch them learn to smile, crawl, walk and run. Once more to fall asleep with a baby on my chest, all snuggly. That ship has sailed, but the dream lives on.

It's been weird lately to go playgrounds and not know most of the moms, who are there with warm newborns nestled inside a sling with fuzzy, feathery hair poking out. My kids are now the big ones that the new walkers stumble around after, arms outstretched, trying to reach but just missing the coattails of my speed racers.

Granted, they are still little, but they don't need me like they used to. They are full of their own ideas, and some days I wish for the ease of a one-year-old who just happily wears what you put on them and goes along with the plan with a goofy grin.

I realize, now, that babies are so easy and precious. They don't seem that way when you are living through it, and I am sure that in a few more years I'll look back on the elementary years and say they were easy compared to what lies ahead in adolescence and teenagedom.

For now, I will just be glad to be wiping one less bum. And if you have a baby, may I borrow it from time to time?

Hands-On Science

2008-10-22T09:08:00.000-07:00

Since it's a rainy day, we decided to make slimy goo in the kitchen! Isn't that what everyone does? The kids mixed large quantities of corn starch, water and red food coloring (to simulate blood, of course) in bowls. When hands are submerged in the goo, it feels like quicksand. When the goo is placed on a surface, it appears to be liquid, but when slapped with hands or objects it doesn't move! Very cool stuff that kept my kids busy for literally an hour and 20 minutes. Here are the gory pictures. And proof that I actually do "school" sometimes...

The Food Police

2008-10-21T04:06:00.000-07:00

In the government school in affluent Newburyport, officials have decided to "ban" candy from the premisis in a misguided effort to battle unhealthy eating and obesity. There will also be severe limits on cupcakes and classroom birthday parties, and whole milk will be frowned upon. Since labels already have to be sent in so everyone is on high alert for peanut dust, lunch has become even more difficult for moms.

It's kind of funny to me that a town populated by the most beautiful, slim, organic, Pilates-addicted moms I have ever seen who are very conscious of every bite consumed by their kids feels the need to implement a "wellness plan". In fact, I cannot recall seeing an overweight child in Newburyport, or a mom over size 4, for that matter. If I were one of those moms, I would be highly offended at the idea I am too negligent or stupid to regulate my kids' diet.

Being an anarchist, upon reading about the ban in the illustrious Newburyport Daily News I immediately corralled my kids into the tent in our living room which has been serving as our classroom and temporary pretend safari headquarters to give them lollipops and peanut butter on a spoon in rebellion, with some whole milk to wash it down, and thought of some of my own solutions for the fat elementary schooler problem.

In my opinion (now, remember, I do not have an Ed.D., so I may not be qualified to make decisions for parents and families who are not mine), if the kids were allowed to have more PE and recess time instead of studying for MCAS or spending money (I'd be very interested in how much the "wellness plan" cost to put together) on studies about how to regulate a child's brown bag lunch, perhaps they wouldn't be so chubby. If there was no full-day kindergarten, think of how many more hours a day of exercise those little guys could get. Children need to run, run, run! Oh, but running at recess has also been outlawed at many schools, along with tag and dodgeball....

Think about it. When we were kids, snack was often a Twinkie with a cherry Kool-Aid chaser and some Fun Dip for dessert which our moms made up for by liberally sprinking wheat germ on our dinners. But none of us were fat! Why? Because our parents made us run around outside all the livelong day and there were only 2 television channels. We had 3 recesses in school and gym at least a couple of times a week. Our lives were not dependent on MCAS scores, so we could be kids.

Why does everyone think that we parents are too obtuse to make the right choices for our kids? Is a bite-sized Snickers bar in a lunch call for concern? So much is already taken away from parents regarding our offspring. I am hoping to see at least some parents say "enough already" and let their kids have a glimmer of hope that they might find a Twix in their bag.

Halloween Party Pics

2008-10-18T05:45:00.001-07:00

Yes, my kids were the only ones at the party in crappy, homemade costumes (Anna in her dance costume from 2 years ago). Cheap or frugal? You decide...

Ryan hogged all the treats. I think he ate a year's supply of Chernobyl Orange food yesterday amidst protests from the organic moms over sweets and juice at a HALLOWEEN PARTY. Get a grip, ladies. Next time, bring your own fruit plate.

Reinventing Self

2008-10-18T05:23:00.000-07:00

I think it's time to reinvent myself again, not unlike a phoenix rising from the ashes. Now that I am an anarchist, there are many possiblities. Having recently lost 28 pounds (thank you, dairy allergy leading to non-dairy lifestyle) and cut off about 10 inches of hair, I am on my way. Though I do wonder how no one has seemed to notice the loss of hair/body fat....

Over the last few days, I've had several epiphanies while under the influence of prescription narcotics, and have come up with a list of new character traits (as well as a new list of people I am allowed to "kiss" should the opportunity arise, but that's another post).

Among the things I need to change to become a kinder, gentler anarchist:

Stop interrupting. It's a bad habit.

Start standing up for myself when husband suggests I should get a real job and/or mop the floor after major abdominal surgery. Also when he implies I am hideously disfigured now that I am over 30.

Stop thinking people are interested in the minutae of my life and learning to just shut the hell up.

Realizing it's OK that I haven't bought "real" Halloween costumes for the kids and they will not be social outcasts just because they had to go to the NMC party in home-made ones (see pics above).

If anyone has any other suggestions, let me know. The internal purge must move forward!

Home from Hospital and Grooving on Percocet

2008-10-16T16:07:00.000-07:00

The surgery was a success (meaning the glop in my pelvic region is gone and I have good drugs). The gifted Dr. Swierzewski removed an 8-cm growth of endometriosis from my muscle tissue. This fact just makes me seem more attractive, doesn't it?

I had purchased new, purple undergarments for the day, only to have to remove them. The last time I was on heavy painkillers with no undies on for the entire morning was much more fun, I must say. I kept getting paranoid that I would be the one the doctors and nurses would all joke about once I was unconscious, because there is much material about which to make mocking comments in my stomach area. Hoping they were professional!

My kids were so great today as I rested, and gave me copious hugs and hand-made cards. I take back, at least temporarily, all the times I called them heathen monsters. Even husband rallied, and did not ask me to take out the trash like he did the day I got home after my c-section with the twins. Maybe he still, like Voldemort, does have a shred of his soul left somewhere.

Now back to my regularly scheduled life...

Surgical Stress

2008-10-15T14:44:00.000-07:00

OK, it's the eve before I go under the knife. My dearest friend Amy today suggested I ask to keep the contents of whatever is removed to use as object lessons for the kids. For example, I can have them do a biopsy of the stuff, toss it on pH paper to see if it's an acid or a base, or plant it in the yard to fertilize my garden. Any other ideas?

I am still very anxious about the whole needle in my arm thing, so if anyone happens to be up at 6:15 am tomorrow and has nothing better to do, they can meet me at Anna Jaques for moral support....

I am listed in the phone book, and will fully expect floral bouquets and treats upon my arrival home (ha, ha).

For now, I am about to consume my last meal before my insides are sliced and diced. Tomatoes, anyone????

I'll update tomorrow for those of you who care. Or not - remember, if I die, make sure they use a pic of Scarlett Johansson instead of me in the obit, and watch out for the kiddos.

The Intrepid Rosie

2008-10-15T04:41:00.000-07:00

Everyone knows that homeschooling families must have a rodent in a cage, to teach the children responsiblity and kindness to animals. In our home, it's Rosie the much beloved guinea pig. We rescued her last year from the animal shelter, as some irresponsible gits bred over 150 of them and could no longer handle their care. My heartstrings were pulled as I read about the little babies, and how they would have to be put to sleep if they weren't adopted. So we piled into the minivan and hightailed it over to the MSPCA, where Rosie found us.

In her year with us, she has traveled across state lines, participated in the Guinea Pig Olympics, had a line of clothing designed and sewed for her by Anna and her friends, and is now the star of a play written by Anna in which she risks life and limb to save a bird stuck in a tree. She has also had the classics read to her, and received a very cool tunnel to play in for her birthday. It's quite like having another child (which I would LOVE, so I may need to keep accumulating small furry animals to squelch that), but without the diapers. Her incarnations include Spider Pig, Wonder Pig and, for reasons only understood by the children, Scaryface.

The other day, we were playing with Rosie in the yard and Anna decided to teach her to read by showing her the "go" sign we have and moving her, then restraining her by showing her the "stop" sign. It did flash through my mind that, if we taught the Pig to read, our money woes would be over. So we did a quick lesson on Pavlov, and gave Rosie treats to go and stop. Who knows if it really worked - look for us on Letterman!

No pet is more lovable with the kids and warm on your lap in winter. She's silky soft and never bites, even when forced to play in a block condo built by the kids. Our home is more fun with her! Now to figure out how to answer the questions about why we would need a boy Pig to make baby ones....that's for another day.

Children of the Corn Maze

2008-10-12T15:30:00.001-07:00

Today, we went on a trek through the fabutastic Kimball Farm corn maze. It takes you through about 5 acres of cornfield, with shapes of five animals. Questions lead you in the right - or the wrong - direction. As I corralled the 4 children in my care (my 3 plus a spare to keep Anna from whining), I felt a certain affinity for the corn itself. In fact, it almost seemed like I had returned to my homeland of Indiana, where I grew up on a farm replete with cornstalks.

In the hour and a half we were lost in the maze, I could see where one could go crazy like Malachi and his pals in the Stephen King thriller. I truly couldn't tell one way from another, and thought about an insightful article sent to met recently from a new friend (thanks, Beth) about a woman who would hide from her kids in a cornfield. How lovely it would be if such a safe place as a cornfield existed for us all!

The smell of the corn and dirt, and the uninhibited joy and laughter only children can exhibit made me smile for the first time in awhile. We really had a lovely time - wish I could have shared it with others! The picture above is my own scary Children of the Corn Maze plus the resplendent and lovely Hanna, whose parents graciously loaned her to me for the afternoon to share in our discoveries. Can you tell which children are the anarchists and which one has been taught dignity and self-preservation by bullies in the public schools? I am trying to forget it will soon be winter lockdown, and a great weekend like we had keeps me in denial.

So, It's Saturday Night

2008-10-11T15:59:00.000-07:00

What does a true anarchist do on a Saturday night when husband is gone and not requiring housework and hogging the remote? When you're me, you farm out the oldest kid and convince the little ones it's bedtime a half hour early. Today, we happen to have candy corn in the house, which will probably be consumed in mass quantities (it is fat free, after all) while I watch grown-up television and ignore the clutter, gleefully imagining the look of utter disdain I would receive if aforementioned husband was home.

Saturdays in our house are very exciting anyway, because I wash all the sheets and pillows on Saturday mornings in Tide with Downy (is there a better scent anywhere?) and freshen the beds. It's the high water mark of our week! I sometimes even wash husband's sheets, if he's been in town for a few days as though offering an olive branch if I am feeling magnanimous.....the kids love Clean Sheet Saturdays nearly as much as they love fingerpainting with foreign substances on the carpet. Win-win all around!

On this particular Saturday, I am a bit tired as it was an exceptionally glorious October day and we spent most of it at a great farm festival. The kids participated in a corn husking contest, made their own cider, stuffed a scarecrow, cried because I refused to spend $15 on pony rides, pet a horse and a cow, climbed on ancient tractors and ran helter-skelter through a hay maze. I also snuck in some contraband peanut butter sandwiches, which we ate in an open field listening to chickens and watching planes land at the tiny Plum Island airport. We saw many friends and no enemies, which made everything perfect, at least for a couple of hours.

I'll probably also spend a few minutes imagining a different life, of course - one with no stress and all that. Before I turn in (late, because I am going through an insomnia phase), I'll check the precious boys and take one last whiff of their cute preschoolerness before reading until my body gives out. I'll hope that maybe a friend will call, but at the same time be glad if no one does. Another great Saturday night in the life of the lawless.