The House at My Corner

Jonas and the Giant Peach

2009-06-25T18:30:00.000-07:00

"Wouldn't it be nice to live in a peach?" said Jonas. And we haven't even read the classic James and the Giant Peach yet to have inspired such a fantasy.

Oh boy, I'm in for it

2009-06-11T23:00:00.000-07:00

"Why does God get to be God? When is it going to be my turn?"

POSN

2009-05-13T13:30:00.000-07:00

I've rediscovered Your Story Hour CDs with my kids. I listened to some of these very same stories on the radio or LP back in the day. So this nostalgic mother gets a chance to relive some fond memories and make new ones with my littles.

Anyway, we listened to humorous tale of Thomas Edison's childhood the other day. Three cheers for his mama and knowing her son well enough to support him and his education at home when the teachers labeled him a dunce. But that's another story.

What I wanted to share today was a funny from my oldest. Lil Tom, annoyed with his sister's nosy friend, marked his stuff POISON to keep her away from his experiments. No poison there, but the warning worked. Our family enjoyed a chuckle over the incident, as well as Tom burning down his father's barn and later being asked to tutor the teacher who thought him dumb. And that was that.

Until the next morning I opened my refridgerator to see POSN written on my husband's Dr. Pepper. Owen had a lot of fun with a Sharpie and marked several "offending" items, including last night's leftovers.

How did he get so wise?

2009-03-21T21:15:00.000-07:00

"What does God eat?" Owen asked from the back seat of Homer, my affection name for our Honda Odyssey. You know how I love conversations in the car.

"Um, that's a good question." My standard stall to give me a second to think of an appropriate response. "I don't know that God needs to eat, but perhaps he eats because he enjoys all the flavors he made."

"What is God's favorite food."

"Um, that's a good question." I repeat. "You'll have to ask God that when you get to heaven."

From the back came the barely heard murmuring, "The best questions are the ones you can't answer."

Infinity

2009-01-15T11:04:00.000-08:00

A couple of days ago, Owen counted to 100. That's a big deal for him because Jack had long ago promised that when he could do that he would let him in on a secret. The secret of the biggest number ever. Something Owen has been pondering and wanting to know forever. His word.

Infinity. The biggest number. The biggest everything. Infinity.

So, this morning as we're driving, (Have I mentioned how much I enjoy the conversations that ensue on the road? The best questions come up then. Observations too.) Owen says, "God is infinity tall."

Just when I wonder where his brain is when he flings his jump rope around the living room, clocks his brother in the head and seems surprised it would do that. Then he comes up with this.

"God is bigger than anything. So he is infinity big. He is infinity tall."

Just one piece of pie

2008-11-11T13:45:00.000-08:00

I promised the boys this morning that they could enjoy a piece of pumpkin pie at lunch. They really wanted it at breakfast. Or should I say Jonas really wanted it then. Jack had made two pies the other day and two pieces were left in the first one. So when lunchtime came around and specifically dessertime, I put a nice slice with a dollop of Cool Whip on each boys' plate.

He looked up at me and said, "But Mom, I wanted that piece," pointing to the remaining whole pie sitting on the kitchen counter.

Boys Adrift

2008-10-12T10:58:00.000-07:00

I just read the most fascinating book by the author of Why Gender Matters, a book I raved about to everybody I talked to for weeks after reading. And this one--I can't stop talking about it either. Whether you parent boys, teach boys or have any interaction with boys in any way, you gotta read Boys Adrift. It's an intriguing exploration of the five factors Dr. Leonard Sax identifies as causing the growing epidemic of unmotivated boys. You know, the whole "failure to launch" phenomenon beginning in childhood and clearly evident in young men.

The following is a brief summary taken from the book's website:

The Five Factors Driving the Decline of Boys

Video Games. Studies suggest that some of the most popular video games are disengaging boys from real-world pursuits.
Teaching Methods. Profound changes in the way children are educated have had the unintended consequence of turning many boys off school.
Prescription Drugs. Overuse of medication for ADHD may be causing irreversible damage to the motivational centers in boys’ brains.
Endocrine Disruptors. Environmental estrogens from plastic bottles and food sources may be lowering boys’ testosterone levels, making their bones more brittle and throwing their endocrine systems out of whack.
Devaluation of Masculinity. Shifts in popular culture have transformed the role models of manhood. Forty years ago we had Father Knows Best; today we have The Simpsons.

For those who have daughters only, this is still something I would put on the required reading list. Afterall, those girls interact with boys and I would suspect you'd want her to be involved with young men living up to their full potential. I think it's quite telling that Dr. Sax dedicates this book to his own young daughter.

Such a interesting book. I'd love to hear anybody's comments on this.

Present for God

2008-10-12T10:42:00.000-07:00

Owen, who just turned 6 a few days ago, took one of his leftover helium birthday balloons outside and let it go.

"What are you are doing?" I asked. I know that he knows it's gone for good and we won't suffer through the tears of a lost balloon like we would if his little brother had done this. So I was wondering if he liked watching how high the balloon would go, how it would travel through the air currents, stuff like that.

"I'm giving it to God," he replied.

An aaaahhhh moment

2008-10-03T11:33:00.000-07:00

I was handing out kisses last night on my way out the door to my monthly book club meeting. Owen said something that just made my heart go all gooey.

"Good night my sweet and cuddly Mommy."

A true devourer of books

2008-09-14T14:32:00.000-07:00

Of course, we'd love for all our children to be lovers of books and little Annaliese appears to have a head start.

I left her on the floor surrounded by her toys for a couple of minutes while I went to attend to her big brother elsewhere. When I returned I found her happily gnawing on my book.

A good inch of the bottom right-hand corner of my paperback cover was gone.

This is why I homeschool

2008-09-11T11:38:00.000-07:00

Check out this article in Newsweek about struggling school-age boys. Interesting stuff about their emotional and behaviorial issues. Really, go click on the link. It's worth it.

First day of school

2008-08-25T19:08:00.000-07:00

Well, we did it. We not only survived, but thrived, on our first official day of homeschool.

We've been talking about this a lot trying to build up some excitement for Owen. His attitude toward school has been somewhat lackluster. When people ask, as they always do, if he's excited about starting kindergarten, his response has been, "Um," hanging head, shrugging shoulders, "I dunno know." I am happy, nay thrilled, to report that now he's saying, "I looooove school!"

So what did we do? We read lots of stories, we worked on our memory verse, we sang and danced to "Six Little Ducks," we wrote letters (surprisingly a big hit!) we colored a picture, we counted how many ducks were in the pond and how many ducks were not in the pond and how many ducks were there altogether, we found China on the map, we saw the Yangtze River (where one our stories is placed) and figured out that it would take four times as long to drive the length of the river as it does to drive to Grandmom's house, we ate Chinese food with chopsticks, we talked about how hard it would be for someone used to eating with chopsticks to use a fork and spoon, and we worked on some phonics. We did all this while still doing our regular, everyday stuff of fixing meals and feeding children (including a nursing baby) and changing diapers and doing laundry and picking up around the house and even squeezing in a doctor's appointment somewhere in there.

A good day, a really good day.

This just in

2008-08-22T23:36:00.000-07:00

I had to fire up the laptop after I just put it to bed (on my way to bed) to post this one:

While taking out my contacts in the bathroom, my bleary-eyed Jonas walked in. The cute as humble pie one.

"Mom, I'm thirsty."

I take a quick survey of the counter and see, as I suspected, no cup, no glass, no container of any kind.

"I don't have anything to drink with in here, Honey. Could you use your hand?" We do the hand-becomes-cup thing often after teeth-brushing. No, we're not proud.

"How about my mouth?"

Oh. Yeah. Why didn't I think of that?

Humble, no. Honest, yes

2008-08-22T23:21:00.001-07:00

Jonas came around the corner dressed up in his red plastic fireman coat and hat. A priceless picture that I wasn't able to capture while I was trying to comfort a 6-month-old cranky from vaccinations.

"Do you know how cute you are?" I said.

And Jonas replied nonchalantly, "Yes."

When you eliminate twaddle

2008-08-08T15:23:00.000-07:00

Your mother will say, "You have such different books," when reading bedtime stories to the grandchildren.

Quiet thoughts

2008-08-01T11:51:00.000-07:00

Since having children I crave quiet. I relish those moments when the kids are asleep or playing quietly in another room. The silence is peaceful. And restful. And very much needed for my soul.

It's funny because when I was single I would turn on noise. I never drove anywhere without music playing. I either had music or the TV on at home. I may even have been in the next room changing sheets but hearing the voices on the TV helped me feel not so alone. I was alone enough that I sought out activity and people and noise.

Now with a husband, three kids and a dog, I've reached my fill. I find myself turning off the radio in the mini-van. Choosing not to turn on the TV. And pulling out puzzles, Play-Doh or crayons when I've come to my zenith of boy-generated busy-ness. Even the sounds of the dishwasher, washing machine and dryer are too much at times. I'm constantly looking for moments in my day for quiet, alone time.

Yet, I admit, there's great fun in noise too. I love the loud laughing of my kids. The exhuberently told stories of the day. I love Legoland just as much as the kids do. And a great piece of music will get my feet moving, my voice singing, and my heart pumping. I still love the noise and commotion, but I get enough of it without having to seek it out now.

It seems that when I don't get enough of something I crave it. Maybe it all comes down to balance. A wise friend once told me that humans are always seeking balance in life. I keep pondering that and keep coming back to the truth of that statement in so many aspects.

As Madeleine L'Engle says, "We need both for our development: the joy of the sense of sound; and the equally great joy of its absence." Yes.

A mother's version of 1 Corinthians 13

2008-07-23T23:13:00.000-07:00

Love in the Home

If I live in a house of spotless beauty with everything in its place, but have not love, I am a housekeeper–not a homemaker.

If I have time for waxing, polishing, and decorative achievements, but have not love, my children learn cleanliness–not godliness.

Love leaves the dust in search of a child’s laugh.

Love smiles at the tiny fingerprints on a newly cleaned window.

Love wipes away the tears before it wipes up the spilled milk.

Love picks up the child before it picks up the toys.

Love is present through the trials.

Love reprimands, reproves, and is responsive.

Love crawls with the baby, walks with the toddler, runs with the child, then stands aside to let the youth walk into adulthood.

Love is the key that opens salvation’s message to a child’s heart.

Before I became a mother I took glory in my house of perfection. Now I glory in God’s perfection of my child.

As a mother, there is much I must teach my child, but the greatest of all is love.

--Author Unknown

Um, why yes I do

2008-07-10T10:56:00.000-07:00

"Mom, don't you wish you had Lightening McQueen underwear like me?"

It's a two-fer!

2008-07-03T09:37:00.001-07:00

While driving the boys to their friends' house, Owen popped up with "3 plus 3 equals 6 and 4 plus 4 equals 8."

"Very good," I say, trying to remember if we had covered these particular equations before.

"Give me some other ones Mom."

I'm thinking this is too cool and I give him other addition questions up to 10 as we're driving along. I look at him through the rear-view mirror and notice him looking all around the mini-van without saying a word. If you know this child that's quite something because he's quite the talker. So with the next math problem, I say, "Wow, how did you know the answer?"

"I count the windows."

Then he added, "And I didn't talk so I could think."

After three kids, I'm still amazed...

2008-07-02T16:03:00.000-07:00

... that a 3-month-old knows to lift her pudgy hips when I change her diaper. (I was going to write about this last month but then I dislocated my elbow and I got a surge of freelance editing and daily swimming lessons for the boys and, well, I was swamped. So now this child is really 4-months but it's so much more amazing when one is 3 months don't you think?)

... that a baby can actually explode more poop up her back than what remains in the diaper.

... how much stuff a tiny baby can spit onto you, causing you to change your shirt three times a day, causing you to wash those same three shirts daily so you have something to wear and wash the next day. Of course, the smart thing to do would be to have more than three shirts that fit but you're nursing and you're trying to lose weight and you're trying to save money so you can drive places and you're now babbling and you need to go change your shirt again. By the way, the stuff spewed forth and what it looks and smells like--you never want to eat cottage cheese again.

... by the bodily noises that infants can make. My one little princess is decidedly unladylike; the sounds erupting from her can make everyone in an entire room to turn, stare and stifle their giggles. Frankly, she's much louder than either of her two big brothers were. Hmmmm, is that a sign of what's to come?

... how early personality traits show up. Annaliese will squeeze her face tightly together and scream shrilly enough to break glass when Jonas pushes her too fast in her baby swing. Go figure, the boys' motto has always been the faster the better. I have a feeling this child won't like the roller coasters.

... how completely enamored a grown person can become with a itty bitty sweetie petitie munchkin pumpkin bobo bobo baby.

What our waiting room reading tells you about us

2008-06-07T13:56:00.000-07:00

While at the orthopedic's office the other day, Jack and I didn't pick up the Sports Illustrated or In Touch magazines flung around the room. We're the types that take a book with us wherever we go. Our picks that day:

Me: Last Child in the Woods: Saving our Children from Nature-Deficit Disorder

Jack: How Am I Smart: A Parent's Guide to Multiple Intelligences

6/15/08: I recommend my read but Jack had some criticisms of his--didn't like the organization and thought it was too simplistic. He liked the subject; however, he's going to the get the original work from Gardner, actually so am I.

Mangled Mama

2008-06-07T13:08:00.000-07:00

On Monday, I got the kids dressed in their casual finest, which means cute shirts and shorts with no holes or stains (and as any mama knows that's a feat in itself), and rushed them into the minivan to head to the mall to get some photos taken of the three of them as a surprise for Jack for Father's Day. The orange fuel light was shining when I turned on the ignition so I had to make a quick stop at the gas station.

At Arco I swiped my debit card, pushed the button for regular unleaded at $4.11 a gallon (yikes), put the nozzle into the tank and . . .

Took a trip to the ER.

Jack likes the version that I saw the price of gas and fainted, which gets a chuckle. But in reality I stumbled over the hose, fell on the asphalt and dislocated my left elbow.

OUCH!!!

Thanks Honey

2008-05-27T15:16:00.000-07:00

Thanks Honey for putting aside your plans for your day off and taking care of the kids, feeding them, dressing them, changing diapers and reminding at least one of them many, many times to go potty. Thanks for doing the laundry, cleaning out the closet and mopping the kitchen floor. Thanks for reading lots of stories, and not the ones you picked out for your pleasure. Thanks for doing this without me asking. Thanks for letting me run away for a few hours. Thanks for forgiving me. Thanks for loving me.

Where has the year gone?

2008-05-19T22:13:00.000-07:00

I just realized that I've been blogging for a year now. So, of course, I had to go back and reread my first post. That's my life. That's still my life. Plus a new baby, plus homeschooling, plus potty training, plus habit training, plus...

Happy Mother's Day

2008-05-11T15:34:00.000-07:00

This is something a friend emailed to me and I was struck by the truth and commonality we that are moms share.

Before I was a Mom

I made and ate hot meals.

I had unstained clothing.

I had quiet conversations on the phone.

Before I was a Mom

I slept as late as I wanted

And never worried about how late I got into bed.

I brushed my hair and my teeth everyday.

Before I was a Mom

I cleaned my house each day.

I never tripped over toys or forgot words of lullabies.

Before I was a Mom

I didn't worry whether or not my plants were poisonous.

I never thought about immunizations.

Before I was a Mom

I had never been puked on

Pooped on

Chewed on

Peed on

Or pinched by tiny fingers.

Before I was a Mom

I had complete control of:

My thoughts

My body

And my mind.

I slept all night.

Before I was a Mom

I never held down a screaming child

So doctors could do tests

Or give shots.

I never looked into teary eyes and cried.

I never got gloriously happy over a simple grin.

I never sat up late hours at night watching a baby sleep.

Before I was a Mom

I never held a sleeping baby just because

I didn't want to put him down.

I never felt my heart break into a million pieces

When I couldn't stop the hurt.

I never knew that something so small

Could affect my life so much.

I never knew that I could love someone so much.

I never knew I would love being a Mom.

Before I was a Mom

I didn't know the feeling of having my heart outside my body.

I didn't know how special it could feel to feed a hungry baby.

I didn't know that bond between a mother and her child.

I didn't know that something so small

Could make me feel so important and happy.

Before I was a Mom

I had never gotten up in the middle of the night

Every 10 minutes to make sure all was okay.

I had never known the warmth

The joy

The love

The heartache

The wonder

Or the satisfaction of being a Mom.

I didn't know I was capable of feeling so much before I was a Mom.

--Author unknown

And this is why I struggle to keep my house clean... and I have young boys

2008-05-10T18:59:00.000-07:00

Your Personality is Very Rare (INFP)

Your personality type is dreamy, romantic, elegant, and expressive.

Only about 5% of all people have your personality, including 6% of all women and 4% of all men

You are Introverted, Intuitive, Feeling, and Perceiving.

How Rare Is Your Personality?

Guess how much I love you--an expanded edition

2008-05-01T20:38:00.000-07:00

For those of you who are familiar with the children's book, Guess How Much I Love You:

During our goodnight hugs and kisses, Owen said, "I love Annaliese all the way to God."

And Daddy said, "I love Annaliese to God and back."

Butterfly pets

2008-05-01T18:32:00.000-07:00

We have been having so much fun raising butterflies vicariously with my friend Elizabeth Joy and her children. The boys and I enjoy looking at the beautiful and detailed photos of the various stages of life these butterflies are going through.

When Owen saw a picture of Emily Rose holding one of these beauties he wanted to try to do that too. So today, Owen had his chance. He happily presented me with a butterfly he caught with his bare hands. (I can't be sure because I am so horrible at identification, but it looked suspicously similar to the Painted Ladies Elizabeth Joy's family is raising). Unfortunately he caught it by it's wings, pinching them together, and damaged it. The poor thing couldn't fly away.

So I guess Owen's reflexes must be quick. This same child smashed a fly with his hand the other day. I couldn't do that to save my life. I hope it doesn't sound as if he's going around cold-heartedly killing insects. The butterfly was an accident but the fly. . . well he's seen me attack them with my flyswatter if they dare to come into my house.

Yes, delight in knowledge

2008-04-29T15:31:00.000-07:00

"The getting of knowledge and the getting of delight in knowledge are the ends of a child's education."
--Charlotte Mason

Superheros or wise men from the east?

2008-04-26T17:42:00.000-07:00

Our little leaguer

2008-04-09T20:46:00.000-07:00

We have entered a new phase in our lives. Today was Owen's first day of t-ball. And he had a ball!

Ain't that the truth!

2008-04-07T05:53:00.000-07:00

Cleaning your house while your kids are still growing is like shoveling the sidewalk before it stops snowing.
--Phyllis Diller

Our favorite picture books

2008-04-06T21:24:00.000-07:00

I'm always on the lookout for good stories to the read to the kids, so I thought I'd share some of our favorites:

"Miss Rumphius," by Barbara Cooney
"A House is a House for Me," by Mary Ann Hoberman
"Stellaluna," by Janell Cannon
"Make Way for Ducklings," by Robert McCloskey
"Blueberries for Sal," by Robert McCloskey
"Flotsam," by David Wiesner
"Whistle for Willie," by Ezra Jack Keats
"The Story of Ferdinand," by Munro Leaf
"The Little Engine that Could," by Watty Piper
"The Very Hungry Caterpillar," by Eric Carle
"Time for Bed," by Mem Fox and Jane Dyer
"The Adventures of Peter Rabbit," by Beatrix Potter
"Mike Mulligan and His Steam Shovel," by Virginia Lee Burton
"Chicka Chicka Boom Boom," by Bill Martin, Jr., and John Archambault
"Stone Soup," by Marcia Brown
"Bread and Jam for Frances," by Russell Hoban
"You are Special," by Max Lucado
"Where the Wild Things Are," by Maurice Sendak
"Frog and Toad Are Friends," by Arnold Lobel
"Winnie-the-Pooh," by A.A. Milne (the original, not the Disney version) Although I wouldn't classify this a picture book, it's a great introduction to chapter books and my 3-year-old listens well to these stories.

Of course, these are the highlights. I only listed our absolute favorites by one author (with the exception of McCloskey--I couldn't decide which of those two were our favorites). Once you find an author you like, look for other books by them to find other potential jewels.

A few years ago when I felt that I had exhausted all the pictures books we had or that I remembered as treasures from my childhood, I asked our local librarian for a book listing great books to read to my kids. She gave me a blank look and said to just look at all the books in the children's section. Hmmmm, not what I expected to hear.

Since then, I've found what I was asking for. They are:

"Honey for a Child's Heart," by Gladys Hunt
"Books Children Love," by Elizabeth Wilson
"The Read Aloud Handbook," by Jim Trelease

My "gentle start to school" plan

2008-04-03T15:09:00.000-07:00

When I began this blog I wrote in the sidebar about myself that I’m beginning to homeschool kindergarten this fall. And it’s still there. So you may wonder have we been homeschooling since September or are we beginning this fall? Or have we been beginning all this time? Or can I just not make up my mind?

Truthfully, it’s all of those.

Since Owen (and Jonas when his turn comes) has a fall birthday and since the cutoff date to enroll in school in our state is December 2 and since he must be registered the year he turns 6—whew—I have to decide if I should place him in kindergarten or first grade.

Of all the curriculum and educational philosophies I’ve researched, I’m most interested in following a literature-based approach. I’m very interested in Ambleside Online’s curriculum. It’s a free, literature-based curriculum based on Charlotte Mason’s educational philosophy. The good people at Ambleside volunteered their considerable time and experience to create this curriculum that anyone can use for free. You simply need to acquire the books somehow, either purchase them, borrow from the library or find the text online. We’ve been loosely following their recommendations for preschool/kindergarten and I’m debating whether Owen is ready to move on to Year 1 this fall or to continue what we’ve been doing but be more intentional with the 3Rs. Kind of like making this next school year a kindergarten/first grade. Which wouldn’t be a problem except that when I register the child as a homeschooler this fall, I have to declare a grade level to the state.

I think the decision I’ve come to is to do a gentle start to school (keeping in mind that we’ve been “schooling” since the day Owen was born). I’ve gotten rather lax on his phonics. We were going great guns for awhile and then my energy failed while my belly got bigger (due to pregnancy, not chocolate—well, maybe a little chocolate). So, I’m going to get back into phonics and reading. Of course, I've been doing lots of read-alouds all along that I'll continue. We play lots of games that involve math concepts and I'll add a kindergarten level math curriculum. I also want to add history, nature study, art, music, health and life skills (these aren't completely new, but I want to be more concrete with my plans, a regular time rather than just whenever I think of it). My plan is to follow Miss Mason's recommendation for short lessons and I'll implement only one subject at a time until it becomes a habit in our daily routine. I’m going to read a selection from each of the books in AOYR1 and gauge Owen’s readiness by asking him to narrate short passages to see if he’s comprehending the material well and his attention span is where it needs to be for that level.

I guess what I’m saying is that we’ll do kinder now, as we have been, but be more deliberate with weekly goals. We'll go through the summer as we plan to school year-round so we won't waste time relearning stuff come September. I’ll reassess where we’re at again in the fall when I need to register him and state a grade level.

That’s the beauty of home education—you make it work for your child. If I enrolled him in a traditional school he’d either be the oldest or the youngest kid in his class. He could be required to do work that was either too easy or too challenging. This way, we’ll do what works for his ability and readiness.

Babysitting or sit on baby?

2008-03-30T13:29:00.000-07:00

A young friend at church who loves babies (she herself is still a babe, being around 18 months) was completely enthralled with Annaliese. She didn't even want to tear herself away to do her favorite activity--craft. I jokily asked this little girl if she would like to babysit someday. She said yes and tried to sit on the baby. She looked quite perplexed when her mother plunked her in her lap and we mothers shared a hearty laugh.

I Love You the Purplest

2008-03-18T12:49:00.000-07:00

Thanks to an anonymous reader who commented on my Baby Fears post, I got a tip on a great book, I Love You the Purplest. The timing couldn’t have been better for reading this to my boys.

It’s a story of two boys who take a twilight fishing trip with their wise mother. The brothers are quite the opposites yet share a competitive gene. Sounds like my boys. Sounds like most boys. Throughout the evening the brothers compete on who dug up the most worms, who is the best rower and who caught the most fish. Their mother, thanks to the thoughtful author, Barbara M. Joosse, answers them more wisely than I can summon on the fly. For the worm answer she says that one boy's worms are the liveliest and the other's worms are the juiciest. One rower took the deepest strokes while the other's strokes were the fastest. So on she goes to addess each brother's questions reassuring them of how much she values each one.

When it comes time for bed, the boys ask the ultimate question, “Mama, who do you love best?” Mama thinks for a moment then tell them that she loves one the bluest and one the reddest with poetic, beautiful descriptions for each. You must read it to see what I mean.

Accompanied with lovely watercolor illustrations, this is a wonderful book to show your children that you love them equally yet individually for who each is. It's time for me to stop renewing this book at the library and go buy my own copy.

California judge declares homschoolers must be credentialed teachers

2008-03-07T09:53:00.000-08:00

I just learned that a California court declared last week that homeschooling is illegal if the parent is not a credentialed teacher. The judge made the ruling that now affects not just the family that happened to be in court, but the thousands of other families homeschooling in California. This decision affects the estimated 166,000 children being homeschooled in the state.

The ruling is being appealed. You can sign a petition to support the appeal at the Home School Legal Defense Website www.hslda.org. Also, you can read more about the case and the ramifications on their site.

She's here!

2008-02-29T16:42:00.000-08:00

This is our precious little girl that we have been anxiously waiting to meet. We adore Annaliese (her online nom de plume). Every morning Owen comes into our room and wants to hold "my baby." Both boys frequently come up to give her a big smooch on top of her head. Although they obviously love her we're definately seeing evidence of a "Very Big Change" in our house, as I'm sure we will for a while.

A proud mother moment

2008-02-09T20:33:00.000-08:00

This morning at church a mother came up to me and said, "You must read the Bible every day to your kids."

"Oh no, I do read Bible stories to the kids, but I can't say we do it that frequently."

"Well, Owen was able to answer all the questions about the story of the woman at the well." I had been in Jonas' class so I wasn't there to witness this.

"Really?" I replied, searching my memory if we had read this story recently, or even at all.

"He just pipped right up and answered every question."

"Did he get them right?" Owen is such an extravert it's no surprise to hear he spoke out, but to answer the questions correctly, I wasn't sure.

"He did."

"Wow."

Later, as I marvelled about this with Jack, who had been in class with Owen, I said, "I'm not sure I've read that story to him yet. How did he know the answers?"

"They read the story and he just listened well."

Good enough for me!

Nature journals for the 5 and under set

2008-02-07T23:00:00.001-08:00

Following my last post, my friend Elizabeth Joy wrote about nature journals in the comments section. I thought it would be great to open up this topic to others.

What books do you recommend about nature journals?

What kind of success have any of you had with doing nature journals with children age 5 and under?

How do you make them work with pre-writing/pre-drawing kids?

I would love to hear from any readers that have some tips. Thanks so much!

A perfect afternoon

2008-02-07T16:42:00.000-08:00

The boys and I did a couple of errands right after lunch and it was such a beautiful day--sunny and warm, in the low 70s here (I know, I know, it's rough)--I just didn't want to go home. So, I impulsively decided to visit a botantical garden I recently heard about at a nearby university. How had I missed this place! Truly an oasis in a sea of cities, highways and congestion.

With 40 acres, four miles of trails and more than 3,500 species of plants, the boys and I enjoyed traipsing through the garden and walking up the winding switch-back trails to the top of a hill overlooking the city. When we arrived at the top, Owen exclaimed, "We're almost as tall as the trees!" Then he ran back to me and flinging his arms around my bulging nine-month pregnant belly said, "Thanks, Mom!"

That certainly made my huffing and puffing to get up the hill worth it.

I LOVE that my kids enjoy the simple, beautiful and profound things of life like our afternoon spent in nature. I didn't grow up that way. I admit, I spent way too many hours indoors in front of the TV. But somehow I still loved to read and to learn, and still do. I've only been learning a love for nature as an adult.

It's funny, when I compare this idealic afternoon with an outing to Chuck E Cheese with a friend the other day, today seemed more special. The boys were just as excited, or even more so. Owen didn't run exuberantly to me to say thanks and give me a hug at Chuck E Cheese. I was certainly more relaxed and at peace today since I was not worried that they would find a game that was too mature or violent for them or worried that they would get lost in the crowd. At the botantical garden they were able to run and explore and observe and just be. The park provided a bingo sheet with pictures of plants, insects and such for young kids to find. The boys had great fun looking for things like a cactus, a bird, a spider's web, and an acorn to cross off their list.

Charlotte Mason recommends visiting one or two specific nature spots that you get to know intimately. A place that you go to in all seasons to observe the changes. I think I've found our spot.

Later, while we, or rather I, was resting on a bench in the garden where no sight or sounds remind you that you are in fact in the middle of a huge metropolis, Owen climbed on some low-lying branches of a tree. He made up a song on the spot that I just have to share:

Trees, trees, trees
Treetops are taller than we

Charlotte Mason carnival

2008-02-05T15:59:00.000-08:00

Check out this carnival full of interesting articles related to all things Charlotte Mason.

Why I like Charlotte Mason

2008-02-02T06:02:00.000-08:00

In my research on education, I have discovered a kindred spirit in Charlotte Mason. She was an innovative educator in England in the 1800s. Of all the philosophies of education I've read, her's fits the best with my ideas of how I want to raise my children.

Key points that I like:

Love and nurture your children as individuals. This doesn't seem radical to us, but at the time of her writing children were to be seen and not heard.
Have your kids play outside as much as possible where they'll learn about nature, science, observation, creativity, independence, joy and God. All that good stuff.
Read, read, read good books, which are those that are well-written with excellent language and imagery, great stories and themes. She advised to avoid what she called "twaddle," books that are dumbed down and insult children's intelligence. You know, those silly, poorly written children's books you find at the grocery store that are a bore to read and completely unimaginative. They're like feeding your kids a diet full of sugar with no protein or vegetables.
Read "living" books as opposed to textbooks to learn about practically all subjects--history, philosophy, science, social studies, art, music, etc. Living books are history books, biographies, novels, nonfiction books about the subject written by the primary source or learned researchers. Textbooks are shortened synopsis compiled by committees and aren't able to provide the whole picture. When I think about this, the best book I ever read that taught me about the Civil War was "Across Five Aprils," a historical novel for kids. That book made the horrors and complications and issues of the Civil War real and vivid for me, much more than any textbook I had to read for school.
Avoid busy work, such as worksheets, and rely on real-life applications instead.
Short lessons, like 15-20 minutes per subject, for the early years. Whets the kids appetites for the subject without boring them or overdoing it. It should provide them with enough interest that they'll want to study more the next day.
Alternate hard and easy subjects. For instance, do math then nature study outside then reading then art, etc.
Do habit-training with very young children as a way of discipline. When you start when they are very young and make things into a habit, it will be easier for them to behave as they get older. She advocated gentle redirection and redirection until they got it; give them attention when they do it well and ignore them when they don't. Actually, it's a lot like Parenting with Love and Logic, a modern discipline approach that I like.

To learn more about Charlotte Mason and her ideas on education, read the following books:

For the Children's Sake by Susan Shaeffer Macaulay, a modern classic and good overview of Mason's ideas.
A Charlotte Mason Companion: Personal Reflections on the Gentle Art of Learning by Karen Andreola, a modern homeschooling mom who taught her children using Mason's philosophy.
A Charlotte Mason Education, More Charlotte Mason Education, and A Literary Education, by Catherine Levinson, another homeschooling mom who researched Mason's ideas and provides practical tips on how to implement them in your family.

Of course, read the original Philosophy of Education, by Charlotte Mason to get the info straight from the horse's mouth, so to speak. Since she wrote in the 1800s, her writing style is dictated by the times and is a bit difficult to read by our modern standards. Ambleside, www.amblesideonline.org, is a wonderful resource for information about Charlotte Mason, how to implement her ideas, and a free, online curriculum. They have a modern paraphrase of Mason's writing for free online, which is what I've been reading. I can't say I agree with everything she taught (some of the practicalities are difficult in this day and age), but her overriding philosophy of education and parenting is excellent.

Baby fears

2008-02-02T05:35:00.000-08:00

"When the baby comes, you won't have time for me anymore," said Owen.

"Sure I will. I'll still be able to play with you, read stories and do lots of other things with you." I promptly replied.

"But I won't be as special as the baby."

Ouch! That your older children may feel that is what every parent fears about having another child, second only to the baby's health. Of course, I reassured Owen that I would still have time for him and that he is very special. But I admit, it caught me off guard.

All our previous conversation about the pending arrival of a new baby had me convinced he was OK with the whole thing. He seemed understanding and realistic. When people ask him if he's excited about having a little sister, he replies, "I don't know, I haven't met her yet." Knowing how this child thinks, I took that as quite a logical answer. He honestly did fine when Jonas was born, and as long as I continue to give both of the boys individual attention, I pray, it will be fine again.

Java jive and lie

2008-01-30T20:06:00.000-08:00

The other day, I treated myself, my very tired self, to a frappachino. When my back was turned, Owen snuck a sip. Now, I had told him before that coffee is just for grown-ups and he knew full well this was coffee.

"Owen, you're not suppose to drink coffee." Then it happened. It just flew out of my mouth without thinking. I blurted out one of those lies parents tell their children that I hate. "It will stunt your growth."

I could see the wheels turning in Owen's head.

"If I drink water, will it reverse the coffee."

"Um, yep."

Gift From the Sea

2008-01-07T11:24:00.000-08:00

I've been feeling the need of late to refocus on myself and, as a result, be more of what I want to be for my family. During this final trimester of pregnancy, I've been having trouble getting to sleep. So, of course, during the day I'm low on patience and energy. I have a long list of things I want to get done in the house before the baby arrives. I've been snapping at my children, neglecting my husband and at a loss of who I am in the few quiet moments I allow myself. I haven't been taking the time to refuel myself. Definitely in need of an interior makeover.

Partly because of this, I choose the classic Gift From the Sea by Anne Murrow Lindbergh for our book club pick this month. At the time she wrote this book, Anne was a busy wife and mother of five. She went to the beach for a couple of weeks vacation by herself and mediated on what the different types of shells she collected on the shore illustrated in a woman's life and roles.

This little book is packed with wisdom for women of any age and time. In fact, the first time I read this book I was amazed that a book written fifty years ago was just as applicable today. This is one of those rare gems that you glean new insights each time you read it. I want to share a few highlights that particularly resonate with me at the moment.

But I want first of all--in fact, as an end to these other desires--to be at peace with myself. I want a singleness of eye, a purity of intention, a central core to my life that will enable me to carry out these obligations and activities as well as I can. I want, in fact--to borrow from the language of the saints--to live "in grace" as much of the time as possible. I am not using this term in a strictly theological sense. By grace I mean an inner harmony, essentially spiritual, which can be translated into outward harmony. I am seeking perhaps what Socrates asked for in the prayer form the Phaedrus when he said, "May the outward and inward man be at one." I would like to achieve a state of inner spiritual grace form which I could function and give as I was meant to in the eye of God (pg. 17-18).

When one is a stranger to oneself then one is estranged from others too. If one is out of touch with oneself, then one cannot touch others (pg. 38).

Certain springs are tapped only when we are alone. The artist knows he must be alone to create; the writer, to work out his thoughts; the musician, to compose; the saint, to pray. But women need solitude in order to find again the true essence of themselves (pg. 44).

But neither woman nor man are likely to be fed by another relationship which seems easier because it is in an earlier stage. Such a love affair cannot really bring back a sense of identity. Certainly, one has the illusion that one will find oneself in being loved for what one really is, not for a collection of functions. But can one actually find oneself in someone else? In someone else's love? Or even in the mirror someone else holds up for one? I believe that true identity is found, as Eckhart once said, by "going into one's own ground and knowing oneself." It is found in creative activity springing from within. It is found, paradoxically, when one loses oneself. One must lose one's life to find it. Woman can best refind herself by losing herself in some kind of creative activity of her own. Here she will be able to refind her strength, the strength she needs to look and work at the second half of the problem--the neglected pure relationship. Only a refound person can refind a personal relationship (pg. 60-61)

Talking to Jesus

2007-12-08T12:25:00.001-08:00

Owen walked around the backyard talking loudly to no one we could see.

"Who are you talking to?" asked Jack.

"I'm talking to Jesus."

"Why are you talking so loud?"

"So He can hear me." replied Owen. "Because He's way up in the sky."

The great, modern parental conflict

2007-11-08T15:38:00.000-08:00

Jack and I stood back and watched out little boys’ joy find expression, as it so often does, in rapid movement. This morning they looped the sleeves of their shirts around their necks and ran running and whopping down the hallway.

“Why don’t you go to work and I’ll stay home with the boys?” said Jack.

I know and he knows that I wouldn’t like that, completely. I tried working full-time outside of the home last year. Hated it! Way too much time away from kids.

“How about we each work part time?” I suggested.

“My work couldn’t be done part time.”

True, unfortunately. His work requires more than the standard American 40-hour workweek to be successful.

“How about we start a home-based business together?”

“I thought we wanted to save our marriage.” He countered.

True, again.

But I love him for wanting to stay home with the kids.

Busted intentions

2007-11-08T15:31:00.000-08:00

I have good intentions. I’m great with intentions. But I’m backing off on the book club one. I thought that discussing a book once a month that I’m already reading for my book club would be easy. I love books and talking about them. But I’m dragging my feet on it. So much so that I feel a pang of guilt when I fire up my laptop. Why?

The purpose of my blog is for entertainment, expression and enjoyment. Not obligation. I have enough of that in my life. Not nearly enough of the fun stuff. So I’m going to the leave the book reviews as I originally intended—when I feel so moved to do so.

Although I enjoyed both of the books I mentioned for the book club, and particularly enjoyed pondering and discussing Gilbert’s Eat, Pray Love, I won’t be writing about it here. I’ll probably write about some of our book club picks in the future, I just not making any promises that I can’t keep.

But I need them!

2007-10-23T21:47:00.000-07:00

At the end of our long weekend with family, the boys and I were headed toward the security line at the airport. I told them to say goodbye now because Grandmom and Uncle P couldn’t come with us. Jonas refused. He pointed his chubby fingers at the beloved relatives and exclaimed, “No, I need them!”

Happy wherever

2007-10-23T21:45:00.000-07:00

“Do you miss your daddy?” a favored uncle asked Owen. The boys and I left Jack at home for a few days and visited my family up north.

“Not too much, I’ll see him the next day,” said Owen. “I’m happy wherever I am.”

It's tough being a kid, part 3

2007-10-21T22:50:00.000-07:00

After a couple 2-year-olds came running to me on the verge of tears, I had to pull Owen aside to explain that even though pillow fights are OK, he couldn't hit his little brother and cousin so hard with the pillows.

"Honey, you're much bigger than them, and you could hurt them without meaning to. You just have to play more gently with little kids."

"But Mom, everything inside of me wants to play rough!"

It's tough being a kid, part 2

2007-10-19T22:35:00.000-07:00

I hugged and kissed Owen goodnight and said, “I love you.”

“I know. You always love me,” he said exasperatedly. “But Mom, I want to do what I want to do when I want to do it!”

Life happens

2007-10-08T18:52:00.000-07:00

OK, this is a boring, housekeeping type of post, so I must apologize. I've missed my deadline to discuss the book club book, Eat, pray, love, and I'm very sorry. My Internet service was down, I hadn't quite finished the book and Owen's birthday is tomorrow so I've been consumed with planning/prepping that. In a couple of days I'll have my brain back in gear and ready to talk to about the book. Keep checking, I haven't forgotten!

By the way, our next book is The Time Traveler's Wife by Audrey Niffenegger. Plan to read it by Nov. 2. And I will too!

Because I'm the mom!

2007-10-03T23:47:00.001-07:00

Could you condense everything a mother says in a 24-hour period into a song just shy of 3-minutes sung to the tune of the William Tell Overture? This is so funny! Whether you've been the one saying all this or on the receiving end (or both), this will bring you a smile. Promise!

Aahh, the joys of siblings

2007-09-30T20:44:00.000-07:00

Jonas stood facing the window nearest his carseat in the minivan and stubbornly said, "Don't look out my window."

Owen, sitting behind him in his seat, shot back, "I'm looking out your window."

"Don't look out my window!"

"I'm looking out your window!"

Oh, brother!

He's figured out what separates the kids from the grown-ups

2007-09-28T17:47:00.001-07:00

Sitting at dinner tonight, Owen had an epiphany, "Me and Jonas do what we want to do and you two (pointing to Jack and I) do what you have to do."

He happier, she's less so

2007-09-28T11:21:00.001-07:00

This headline in The New York Times caught my attention. So, after all our efforts to grant women equal rights, we've ended up more stressed. Read all the way to the end and you'll see why I want the author to come to my house.

Bob into reading

2007-09-27T14:13:00.000-07:00

The timing couldn't have been better. I write about Owen beginning to read a few words, then I get this opportunity to review the Bob Books by Bobbie Lee Maslen and John R. Maslen. Perfect!

Our set arrived on our doorstep, which is always an adventure. It's like Christmas for the boys when packages arrive at the house. Who cares that we get deliveries much more frequently than only the chaotic month of December because I'm in love with free shipping on Amazon, it's still exciting. So, I definately had Owen's attention when I opened the big brown box to find our little blue box inside.

"Is it for me?" Owen yelled while practically jumping as high as me.

"Yes, these are books just for you. Books that you can read yourself."

"I don't know how to read, Mommy"

"You're learning. You can read cat and hat. I think you can learn to read these too."

So we cuddled up on the couch and opened the first of 12 miniature paperbacks. Together we sounded out the words through the simple eight-page booklet. As soon as we were done, he wanted to read it again. And again.

That night when Daddy came home, Owen met him at the door proudly exclaiming, "Daddy, I read a book today." Of course, Daddy was full of praise and couldn't wait to hear it. We shared a parental look of pride over the top of our firstborn's curly head.

These beginning readers with their simple stories, cute line drawings, and gradual advancement of new words, are the perfect first books. They give the child confidence to progress to the next book, and the next book and the next.

There are five sets in all, each providing a progressive level of difficulty. I'm already anticipating getting set two on my doorstep.

Homeschooler says no to Harvard

2007-09-25T13:59:00.000-07:00

Great story about a kid who was homeschooled and the options he chose.

Book club: Eat, Pray, Love

2007-09-18T09:07:00.000-07:00

I'm part of a monthly book club and I thought I share our reads with you. Each member takes turns choosing a book so we get introduced to new books, some of which we may not have picked up left to our own devices. Some we love. Some we hate. There's even a few that fall in the so-so category although we usually have stronger opinions than that. We read biographies, memoirs, novels, Christian literature and even an occasional romance here and there.

This month's pick is Eat, Pray, Love: One Woman's Search for Everything Across Italy, India and Indonesia by Elizabeth Gilbert. So far I only know what's on the book jacket. And that tells me that it was #1 on the New York Times bestseller list. For me, a more stirring endorsement comes from one of my favorite authors, Anne Lamott, who says, "A wonderful book, brilliant and personal, rich in spiritual insight.

If you would like to join me in discussing this book, check back on Oct. 4 and share your thoughts.

On Borrowed Wings

2007-09-14T09:52:00.000-07:00

It's the 1930s and young girls, particularly poor ones, have few options. Adele, raised in the dust of granite that her father cuts, can barely think beyond her beloved town of Stony Creek although she rebels at the idea of an arranged marriage her parents are sure to make for her. Then her older brother dies unexpectedly and suddenly Adele has a choice. She cuts her hair, binds her breasts and puts on pants to attend Yale University under her brother's identity.

When I first started reading On Borrowed Wings, a historical fiction, I noticed the impressive writing, plot and character devleopment. I like Chandra Prasad's vivid descriptions and analogies. She's developed a well thought-out character in Adele who grew throughout the book--always a must for me to like a novel. Although the idea of a girl pretending to be a boy has been done many times, (Shakespeare's As You Like It and Barbara Streisand's Yentl come to mind) it's still an intriquing concept. Then there's added layers of interest in the mother-daughter relationship, the coming-of-age story, and the societal pressures and expectations for gender and class of that era.

What particularly captured my imagination was pondering what women could do given their limited options of the time. And as always, when I read books related to this subject, I wonder what I would have done had I lived then. Would I have had Adele's courage to try a different life? Would my hunger for knowledge and equality enable me push through boundaries? Would I have been depressed or suicidal? I am so thankful for the women who have gone before us and fought for the choices that I am allowed today.

I enjoyed many parts of the book, but then some scenes that seemed thrown in to elicit strong reactions for the sake of reactions and not for story or character development, turned me off. It's kinda like adding gratuitous flesh or violence in a movie to get an R-rating. That's just not my cup of tea.

Piano lessons

2007-09-13T17:47:00.001-07:00

You would think with all the money my parents spent on music lessons and the years of practice I put in, that I would be a pretty decent musician. Not so! I took organ lesson from the age of 9 until I was about 17. Then I took a quarter or two of piano in college, and almost a year's worth of piano lessons sometime after I was married and while I was pregnant with Owen. I used to think that he's musicial because I played the piano while he was in utero, but a couple months of Kindermusik convinced me otherwise.

Anyway, since having children I've hardly had a chance to practice. Whenever I've tried, little fingers find their way to the piano keys and bang away. Or worse, they pull down the lid on their mother's fingers.

Today while browsing the book aisle at Costco I came upon The Library of Easy Piano Classics and decided I'm going to practice again. Afterall, there is more music in the world than Vegietales jingles. I bought the book.

I am extremely rusty. This arrangement of Debussy's Clair De Lune is easier than the version I used to play and I can't even get through it. How sad is that? Still, I'm going to try. I'll never be a great pianist, but if I can passably play most of the pieces in this book, I'll be happy.

What really matters

2007-09-13T10:01:00.000-07:00

As we're entering the fire season here in southern California, I remember the first time we lived through it about four years ago. This photo shows the view from our back yard. By nightfall, the flames glowed through the smoke.

Watching the fire from my second-story bedroom window, I could see the bright orange-red flames outline the ridges. Every time I looked out the window, the fire seemed to be getting closer and closer. Then I heard that the homes higher up the hill than mine were being evacuated. Our street, only a few blocks south, was under voluntary evacuation. Jack was working late and I called him to come home. The police were guarding all the streets into our neighborhood and would let people leave but not to enter. Jack left his Jeep at the police barricade and snuck past them to walk the couple of miles to our home. We decided to pack our necessities into our car so we could be ready to leave if the authorities evacuated our street as well.

As we went through our house to grab what we needed, I realized that the things that I would pack if I were leaving town for the weekend—clothes, diapers, toothpaste, and such—was not the things I wanted to pack now. I wanted our family photos. I took the wedding photos off the wall—the ones that instantly transport me to that day when I looked into my husband’s eyes and saw the depth of his love as he recited the vows he wrote for me. I grabbed the photo albums that contained pictures of fun times with our friends, images of grandparents that had passed away, and portraits of our families throughout the years. I gathered up the discs that had all the digital snapshots we had taken the past year documenting Owen’s life.

It turned out that our street was never evacuated and no home on our part of the hillside was lost. Many weren't so lucky. Several homes and thousands of acres of woodland was burned. But that experience continues to serve as a poignant reminder of what is truly important. First, the safety of my family. I would have watched those precious photos burn rather than lose my husband or my son. Second, since we had time, we chose to save the most important items we had, and those were not the most expensive items we owned, but the most meaningful—our family photos.

Everything else is replaceable

Our first camping trip

2007-09-10T14:19:00.001-07:00

We joined our church group for a camping trip in the mountains this weekend. Thanks to a borrowed tent and stove, we made it. The boys enjoyed running through the trees with their friends, and Jack and I enjoyed the luxury of their prolonged entertainment so we could chat with our friends. And, of course, being in nature always makes me feel rejuvenated--like I can breathe deeply again and not worry about things in the normal hustle and bustle of life. So, even though the air mattress we slept on made me feel as if I was on a boat about to capsize in the waves, and even though it was so cold at night that when Jack returned from the bathroom and wrapped his frozen self around me I was thinking about mutiny, we will definately go camping again.

I do it myself

2007-09-05T20:09:00.000-07:00

Yep, Jonas was so proud of dressing himself in his jammies he had to show them off.

Its tough being a kid

2007-09-03T15:54:00.000-07:00

I stiffled a giggle when Owen said this and instead said, "Yep, sometimes it is."

We were playing Uno on the family room floor and I had just suggested we switch places so I could lean against the couch. Hunching over the cards for the past hour was enough to make me wish for a personal masseuse who makes housecalls. Look, the boy had spent three house of bliss at the neighborhood pool, had played numerous games of Uno where, I might add, he had won more games than lost, and now when I asked to switch places to rest his pregnant mother's back he pops up with this its-tough-being-a-kid thing.

Another, much more encouraging, homeschool conference

2007-08-30T11:01:00.000-07:00

Well, this past weekend I attended another homeschool seminar that left me feeling quite different than my first. I listened to Carole Joy Seid's wisdom for a day and felt excited about home education and thought, "Yes, I can do this!" Carole holds a master's degree in education and homeschooled her only son through high school. He currently has a master's degree and is working on a Ph.D., I believe, as well.

I so appreciated her well-researched thoughts along with practical application and her deeply held spiritual perspective. Even though this particular seminar mostly focused on the high school years and so wasn't personally applicable, I still gained much from the overall philosophy of education she shared. I'm very much looking forward to her seminar in January that will focus on the elementary years.

Listen in on her radio interview on her Website where you can learn more about her ideas.

The "Good Mother" debate

2007-08-22T08:47:00.000-07:00

The other day while chatting with the girls (my sanity-saving group of mothers that meet once a week), the topic turned to homeschooling and one mom said "You guys are just better mothers," as if those who choose to homeschool were somehow "better mothers." No, no, no, 100 times NO!

I so don't want any of my choices to make another mother feel inferior. We get enough of that in our society, whether real or imagined. The so-called "mommy wars" perpetuate the image of catty, back-stabbing women while dividing a huge group that needs each others support. Truthfully, most of the women I know are respectful of other mothers even when they disagree. The women in my Tuesday morning group don't always see eye-to-eye, but we sure do support each other. I love their encouragement, their commiseration, their wise insights and their listening hearts.

I know I run the risk of sounding relativistic and trite, but I do believe it's pretty simple. You make the choice that works for you, your child and your family. When it doesn't work anymore, you do something different. And if you don't have people in your life who support and respect you when you're doing the best you can for your family, go find a Tuesday morning group for yourself.

Oh honey, I'm with you

2007-08-21T23:02:00.000-07:00

I guess I'm too new at this blogging thing. I can't seem to figure out how to link directly to a blog post and not just the blog main page. Anyway, all you parents out there, take a look at Maybe I Shouldn't Have Said It and take heart.

Stewing and brewing thoughts in the wake of a homeschooling conference

2007-08-15T03:24:00.000-07:00

I attended my first homeschooling conference this past weekend and, not surprisingly, I have a few impressions that are swirling around my brain. So much so that it's keeping me up. I'm just going to jump right into it so I can go back to sleep and be up to take the kids to the science center in the morning as I promised.

While there were a few sessions that offered practical advice to this newby (notably how to tell if your child is ready to learn to read; ADHD vs. kinesthetic learner; and fun, educational things to do with your preschooler), I came away with two key impressions: 1. the homeschooling community has fought so long to legitimize themselves that they believe the only right way to educate your child is at home, and 2. forget about grades, grade levels and preparation for college as following your child's development and interest is paramount. I have trouble with both of these ideas.

First off, I don't believe homeschooling is for everybody in every situation. Sure, anyone can and should be able to homeschool if they want to. But it's not the best choice for every child and every parent. Even if it may work well for the child and parent, circumstances may prohibit it. I'm not talking about government regulation here. I'm all for the legal right every American citizen has to choose to educate their children at home. However, there are a myriad of personal and intricate circumstances that just make traditional schooling a better choice for some families. I'm sure I'm not the only one at the conference with this belief. The last speaker of the day basically said the same thing as I, but many other speakers and parents said that homeschooling was the best choice.

The second idea is the one that I find most troubling. It seems that when you enter the homeschooling world the expectation is that it is for your child's entire education. As one speaker said, "we lose a lot at high school," implying that some wimpy parents coop out at that stage. When I asked about how do you know your child is on grade level or ready to go to college, the response reminded me of Bobby McFarrin's boppy tune, "Don't worry, be happy."

I'm approaching this decision to educate Owen at home on a year-by-year basis. It's completely overwhelming to me to think this is an either-or mandate for the next 12 years. Next year, we may decide to send Owen to school, or the year after, or the year after that. I want to know that he is somewhat on par with his peers and won't be woefully behind. Even if we choose to homeschool through high school, which I just can't fathom at this point, I want him to be capable of succeeding in college.

What's most important to me in educating my children, whether at home or elsewhere, is that they learn to think for themselves, can analyze and coherently express their resulting opinions verbally and in written form, and have a lifelong love for learning. With the pressure schools have to meet state and national education goals that are only measured through test scores, most teachers simply teach to the test. The students cram to memorize facts that they forget two weeks later. Students end up hating school because their natural love for learning is killed by endless busywork and boring memorization that holds no point of reference beyond the test. By the time they get to college they are so "schooled" in this method that the most common question professors hear is, "Will this be on the test." Jack even hears this from his graduate students.

Home education offers an alternative--an appealing alternative that I'm willing to try. I just have to do it my way, which includes lot of fun, tailored activities to keep Owen excited about learning along with references that let me know what a typical kindergartener should know.

Raves for Miss Rumphius

2007-08-13T15:40:00.000-07:00

I just discovered this charming book that has been around since the mid-80s, a bit past my picture book days. I've seen it listed on several book lists and picked it up at the vendor fair for the California Homeschool Network conference I attended this weekend. (More about that later.) I pulled it out of the plastic bag that was falling apart from the weight of my newfound treasures and read it to Jonas before his nap today. We were curled up on his bed with his head on my shoulder. I'm not sure when his baby browns finally closed because I was so caught up in this sweet story that I didn't stop or peek at him until I closed the book.

If you haven't come across this book yet, now's the time. Even if you don't have children, pick up this little gem. It's an enthralling yet simple tale with a message the whole world needs. I won't spoil it and say anymore. Just get ye to the library.

Do you have a sgtrane mnid too?

2007-08-13T12:50:00.000-07:00

fi yuo cna raed tihs, yuo hvae a sgtrane mnid too

Cna yuo raed tihs? Olny 55 plepoe out of 100 can.

i cdnuolt blveiee taht I cluod aulaclty uesdnatnrd waht I was rdanieg. The phaonmneal pweor of the hmuan mnid, aoccdrnig to a rscheearch at Cmabrigde Uinervtisy, it dseno't mtaetr in waht oerdr the ltteres in a wrod are, the olny iproamtnt tihng is taht the frsit and lsat ltteer be in the rghit pclae. The rset can be a taotl mses and you can sitll raed it whotuit a pboerlm. Tihs is bcuseae the huamn mnid deos not raed ervey lteter by istlef, but the wrod as a wlohe. Azanmig huh? yaeh and I awlyas tghuhot slpeling was ipmorantt!

Pregnant pause

2007-08-12T10:10:00.000-07:00

I suppose that's the best way to explain my sporadic silence on this blog. I'm finally nearly the end of my first trimester and I'm starting to feel a little more like myself. Of course, the infamous nausea is awful (although much, much better this time around), but the extreme exhaustion and lack of energy completely wipe me out. I've found that this pregnancy is more difficult because I have two highly active boys to care for while I just want to stay in bed.

What little gumption and brain power I have must be reserved for what's most important--saving my kids from major injuries. I've already failed in my house. Just this week the boys painted a 4-feet swash of carpet, poured a couple of gallons of water on the floor, cut my living room curtain and riped up my bedside lamp shade. Anyone wanna trade?

Ready to read

2007-08-07T14:46:00.000-07:00

Owen has known how to read the letters and the sounds for each letter for nearly a whole year now. I was so excited when he got that down that I was ready to jump right in on teaching him how to put those sounds together to make words. The few times I tried though, Owen got frustrated and stomped off saying, "I can't do it." I admit, I really had to fight the urge to force it. Just because I begged to learn to read at age 4 and have loved it ever since, doesn't mean that my firstborn is the same. All I have to do is look at this child, who looks nothing like me, and know that he's his own person. Frankly, that's who I want him to be. So I backed off.

Fast-forward to today and that same child can sound out cat, bat, mat, hat, rat, pat and sat. And I had nothing to do with it. The last couple of nights Jack has been spending a few minutes before bedtime with Owen helping him to read. He started with AT and quickly moved on to these rhyming words. I guess this is what the experts mean to wait, it will come when they are ready.

Fireworks in the back seat

2007-07-17T21:23:00.000-07:00

While I was waiting for gas to fill up my hungry mini-van, I heard another form of gas explode in multiple toots in the back seat. I turned around to see Owen's astonished and gleeful look on his face as he said, "Mom, I've got fireworks in my butt!"

Positive strokes for positive folks

2007-07-11T11:45:00.000-07:00

A counselor friend of mine mentioned that children need ten positive comments to every command. Not just every negative comment, but every command. Like those things parents say a hundred times a day: "Get your clothes on," "Brush your teeth," and "Eat your broccoli." I can't say I live up to the 10 to 1 ratio, but knowing this has made me much more conscious of looking for opportunities to praise my boys more frequently throughout the day. I'm saying things like: "Good job sharing your toys." "That was so nice of you to help your brother get his shoes on." "I really appreciate you clearing your dishes off the table." "You two are playing so nicely together." "You did a great job using your inside voice and not touching things in the store."

Since I've been doing that, I've seen my kids behave better, particularly my independent-minded 4-year-old. I'm even enjoying a side-benefit I didn't expect.

Yesterday I had to brake quickly to avoid running a red light. I had just set my water bottle down, so it was perched somewhat precariously in the cup holder. The items in the passenger seat went flying to the floor, but my water bottle wavered and stayed upright. Owen said, "Good job in not spilling your water." Then at the next light, when I stepped on the brakes much more slowly and smoothly, he said, "Good job stopping, Mom."

I'm surprised we haven't been to the ER yet

2007-07-08T16:19:00.001-07:00

At a lovely potluck with lovely friends in the mountains, Owen tried to paralyze himself. (Or at least that's my version. Jack thought of it as good preparation for a hockey defenseman.) Owen laid face-down on a hammock with his fingers laced through the rope and had his friends push him as fast as they could. Then when he was pushed so high that the hammock swung completely around, he let go and landed flat on his back on packed dirt.

Then he got up and shouted, "Cool, let's do that again!"

Our backyard Fourth of July blowout

2007-07-04T22:26:00.000-07:00

Raising (and educating) Cain

2007-07-03T16:08:00.000-07:00

I first started researching homeschooling because I had read a few studies that said boys aren't typically ready for formal education at ages 5 and 6 when we're typically ready to trot them off to the nearest yellow bus. I have also read several articles about the rise of ADHD diagnosis, predominantly in boys and in the first few years of school. Let me hasten to say that I do believe there are many legitimate ADHD diagnoses. However, there are many boys labeled ADHD that are simply active boys who aren't ready to sit still for a few hours every day in school.

As Owen quickly approaches 5, I've been searching for answers. When should I send my active boy to school? Could he be labeled ADHD? What type of environment is best for him? What qualities should I look for in a good school? And what about the teacher? So I've read several education books to find an alarming trend: Kids don't like school! This may not surprise you, but it did me. Educator after educator wrote about kids losing their natural love for learning in the schoolroom. My motivation to seek out an alternative became even stronger. Not only was I thinking about my boys developmental needs, now I was seeing a strong connection between that and their future academic success. The more I read about education and the development of boys, the more I am convinced that homeschooling, at least in these early years, is the right option for my family.

I'm currently reading Raising Cain: Protecting the Emotional Life of Boys and just in the second chapter I've found some excellent quotes that summarize well some of the research I've read that has led me to this decision:

From kindergarten through sixth grade, a boy spends more than a thousand hours a year in school, and his experiences and the attitudes of the teachers and other adults he encounters there are profoundly shaping. The average boy faces a special struggle to meet the developmental and academic expectations of an elementary school curriculum that emphasizes reading, writing, and verbal ability--cognitive skills that normally develop more slowly in boys than in girls. Some boys are ahead of the others on that developmental curve, and some girls lag behind, but when we compare the average boy with the average girl, the average boy is developmentally disadvantaged in the early school environment.

We are not suggesting that boys are good and schools are bad, or that teachers don't care about boys. Quite to the contrary, much of what we know about boys' difficulties in school is confirmed by the many caring, creative teachers we know who struggle with the challenge of working with boys in the school setting. We know, too, that there are boys whose talents or temperments make them exceptions, but if we're going to talk about the ways in which boys' life experiences complicate their emotional development or compromise it, we have to talk about the hidden hurt that the early school years inflict on so many boys.

Studies that track children's development through the school years suggest that, by the third grade, a child has established a pattern of learning that shapes the course of his or her entire school career. We see this clearly with boys: the first two years in school are a critical moment of entry into that world of learning, but boys' relative immaturity and the lack of fit they so often experience in school set them up to fail. Many boys who are turned off to school at a young age never refind the motivation to become successful learners.

The average boy's gifts are wrapped in high activity, impulsivity, and physicality--boy power--and the value of these gifts depends on the teacher, the boy, and the moment. These qualities serve boys beautifully on the playground, where there is room and respect for bold strokes of action and impulse. In the classroom, however, alongside girls--who are typically more organized, cooperative, and accomplished school learners--those "boy qualities" quickly turn from assets to liabilities. Even among those who aren't considered problem boys, many teachers identifiy the ordinary boy pattern of activity, attitudes, and behaviors as something that must be overcome for a boy to succeed in school.

When school is not a good fit for a boy, when his normal expressions of energy and action routinely meet with negative responses from teachers and classmates, he stews in feeling of failure--feelings of sadness, shame, and anger, which can be very hard to detect beneath that brash exterior. Unable to "talk out" the emotional pressure, boys typically act out though verbal or physical aggression that walls them off emotionally from others, straining or severing emotional connections to the people and circumstances they find painful.

The most important thing to remember, the guiding principle, is to try to keep your son's self-esteem intact while he is in school. That is the real risk to his success and to his mental health. Once he's out of school, the world will be different. He'll find a niche where the fact that he's can't spell well, or didn't read until he was eight, won't matter. But if he starts to hate himself because he isn't good at schoolwork, he'll fall into a hole that he'll be digging himself out of for the rest of his life.

When normal boy activity levels and developmental patterns are accommodated in the design of schools, curricula, classrooms, and instructional styles, an entire stratum of "boy problems" drops from sight. When a boy's experience of belonging at school is greater than his sense of differentness, then the burden of shame, inadequacy, and anger drops away, and he is free to learn.

Swimming lessons

2007-06-28T06:57:00.000-07:00

Owen is in his first week of swimming lessons. No longer is this Baby and Me with the child held securely in his mother's arms. Now he's in the water independently, with his fellow classmates and teachers. Not only is this a new experience for our preschoolers, this is a big change for us parents as well. We sit on the edge of the pool calling out instructions: stay on the wall, listen to your teacher, don't splash the person next to you, etc. When the teachers wrapped noodles around our little charges and lead them into the deep end, we leaned in closer and held our breathes.

I'm fighting the impulse to be a smother mother. When Owen has strayed from the group, a few times I've reminded him to stay with the teacher and a few times I've remembered my decision to let the teacher lead and bit my tongue while the teacher encouraged him to come back.

We're both growing up, Owen and I. He is learning to jump into the deep end without me and I am learning to sit on the side and cheer him on.

I am the Lord of me

2007-06-26T14:19:00.000-07:00

Driving home from errands today I heard a sweet voice in the backseat sing, "I am the Lord of me, yes sir! I am the Lord of me." Although Owen got the theology mixed up, I give him props for heartily singing a song--on his own, about God, and without prompting.

(He was trying to sing "I'm in the Lord's army, yes sir! I'm in the Lord's army.")

Night, night kisses

2007-06-24T10:23:00.000-07:00

Jonas has started a new beguiling bedtime routine that has me wrapped around his finger, quite literally. After prayer and a good-night kiss, he flings his arm around my neck and plants a smacking wet kiss on my check. I give him another kiss. He leans in closer to rub his nose against mine and we giggle. We rub noses, we share kisses, we both have big grins. What could be better?

Let children be children

2007-06-18T09:15:00.000-07:00

Melissa over at The Lilting House posted the following article from the San Francisco Chronicle and I had to share it. This is one of the reasons that I'm choosing to homeschool kindergarten.

Let children be children
Is your 5-year-old stressed out because so much is expected?

by Penelope H. Beven
published in the San Francisco Chronicle
Sunday, June 3, 2007
I was watching one of my second-grade girls try unsuccessfully to tie her shoes the other day, and I thought, "This is a person who is supposed to be learning plural possessives?" I think not.
We've just finished test time again in the schools of California. The mad frenzy of testing infects everyone from second grade through high school. Because of the rigors and threats of No Child Left Behind, schools are desperate to increase their scores. As the requirements become more stringent, we have completely lost sight of the children taking these tests.

For 30 years as a teacher of primary kids, I have operated on the Any Fool Can See principle. And any fool can see that the spread between what is developmentally appropriate for 7- and 8-year-old children and what is demanded of them on these tests is widening. A lot of what used to be in the first-grade curriculum is now taught in kindergarten. Is your 5-year-old stressed out? Perhaps this is why.

Primary-grade children have only the most tenuous grasp on how the world works. Having been alive only seven or eight years, they have not figured out that in California there is a definite wet and dry season. They live in high expectation that it will snow in the Bay Area in the winter. They reasonably conclude, based on their limited experience with words, that a thesaurus must be a dinosaur. When asked to name some of the planets after he heard the word Earth, one of my boys confidently replied, "Mars, Saturn, Mercury, Jupiter and Canada!" to which a girl replied, "No, no, no, you gotta go way far outer than that."

Research has shown that it takes approximately 24 repetitions of a new concept to imprint on a young brain. The aforementioned plural possessives come up twice in the curriculum, yet they are supposed to know it when they see it. This is folly.

Currently, 2 1/2 uninterrupted hours are supposed to be devoted to language arts and reading every morning. I ask you, what adult could sustain an interest in one subject for that long? Yet the two reading series adopted by the state for elementary education require that much time be devoted to reading in the expectation that the scores will shoot up eventually. Show me a 7-year-old who has that kind of concentration. Show me a 64-year-old teacher who has it. Not I. The result of this has been a decline in math scores at our school, because the emphasis is on getting them to read and there isn't enough time to fit in a proper curriculum. Early math education should rely heavily on messing about with concrete materials of measurements, mass, volume and length, and discovering basic principles through play.

There is no time for this. The teaching of art is all but a subversive activity. Teachers whisper, "I taught art today!" as if they would be reported to the Reading Police for stealing time from the reading curriculum, which is what they did.

It is also First Communion time in second grade. Yes, I teach in a public school, but First Communion happens in second grade, and it is a big deal, the subject of much discussion in the classroom. The children are excited.

A few months back one of my girls exclaimed, "Jeez, I have a lot to do after school today, Teacher. I gotta do my homework, go to baseball practice and get baptized." I laughed to myself at the priorities of this little to-do list, so symbolic of the life of one second-grader. But there was a much larger issue here. What is happening to their souls? You may ask, what business it is of the schools what is happening to the souls of these little children?

I will tell you. Any fool can see that those setting the standards for testing of primary-grade children haven't been around any actual children in a long time. The difference between what one can reasonably expect an 8-year-old to know and what is merely a party trick grows exponentially on these state tests.

Meanwhile, children who know they are bright and can read well are proved wrong time and again because of the structure of these tests. Teachers spend inordinate amounts of time trying to teach the children to be careful of the quirky tricks of the tests when they should be simply teaching how to get on in the world.

Twenty years ago, I had a conference with a parent, a Sikh, whose child was brilliant. I was prepared to show him all her academic work, but he brushed it aside and said, "Yes, yes, I know she is quite smart, but I want to know how her soul is developing."

The present emphasis on testing and test scores is sucking the soul out of the primary school experience for both teachers and children. So much time is spent on testing and measuring reading speed that the children are losing the joy that comes but once in their lifetime, the happy messiness of paint, clay, Tinkertoys and jumping rope, the quiet discovery of a shiny new book of interest to them, the wonders of a magnifying glass. The teachers around them, under constant pressure to raise those test scores, radiate urgency and pressure. Their smiles are grim. They are not enjoying their jobs.

Our children need parents and teachers who, like Hamlet, know a hawk from a hand saw, who know foolishness when they see it and are strong enough to defend these small souls from the onslaught of escalating developmentally inappropriate claptrap. The great unspoken secret of primary school is that a lot of what is going on is arrant nonsense, and it's getting worse. Any fool can see.

Happy Father's Day, Daddy!

2007-06-17T07:13:00.000-07:00

Fingerprint owies

2007-06-15T10:06:00.000-07:00

"Mommy, Mommy!" yelled Owen as he came running to me with a Thomas the Tank Engine bandage in his hand.

"What's the matter? Are you hurt?" I said thinking there must be blood.

"I got fingerprints rubbed into me. Can you get them out?"

Falling for Flotsam

2007-06-14T20:09:00.000-07:00

Based on the recommendation of a couple of friends, I bought the latest Caldecott winner, Flotsam, and I'm glad I did. It is a charming picture book using incredible artwork to tell the story with no words whatsoever. Children have the marvelous and often rare opportunity to use their imaginations to narrate the tale.

The American Library Association has this to say:

Flotsam is a cinematic unfolding of discovery. A vintage camera washed up on the beach provides a young boy with a surprising view of fantastical images from the bottom of the sea. From fish-eye to lens-eye, readers see a frame-by-frame narrative of lush marinescapes ebbing and flowing from the real to the surreal.

“Telling tales through imagery is what storytellers have done through the ages. Wiesner’s wordless tale resonates with visual images that tell his story with clever wit and lively humor,” said Caldecott Medal Committee Chair Janice Del Negro.

The boys have been mesmorized by it. And so have I.

Why Gender Matters

2007-06-11T13:26:00.000-07:00

Jack picked up Why Gender Matters at the library before a long car trip. We took turns driving and reading to each other while the boys colored, looked at books, stuck stickers on the windows and made faces at each other. Perhaps we are somewhat nerdy, but this was one of the highlights of our trip.

Based on emerging science, Dr. Sax offers a fascinating look at the differences between girls and boys. He begins by discussing the biological differences scientists have discovered that are not widely known. For instance, when your son acts as if he didn't hear you, he may not actually have heard you. Apparently, a boy's sense of hearing is not as acute as a girl's. This has all sorts of implications, such as a boy who sits in the back of the classroom getting into trouble when he simply may not have heard the teacher. Or a girl feeling like her father is yelling at her when he is simply speaking in a normal volume for him.

Although Dr. Sax provides compeling research, the second part of the book branches out to his opinions on how to apply this knowledge in everyday situations. He discusses discipline, drugs, sex, self-esteem and education. In regards to drug prevention for example, the research shows that boys tend to get into drugs because of peer pressure, whereas girls do drugs because of a low self-esteem. When it comes to education, Dr. Sax is a strong proponent for single-sex education. I've heard many arguments in favor of single-sex education for females, but I haven't heard much about the benefits for males until I read this. I can see his point. In single-sex education, the students can learn regardless of gender stereotypes and the teachers can tailor their lessons to meet the needs of the students more effectively. For instance, a high school English teacher at an all-boys school divided the students into two teams and asked questions Jeopardy style. This teacher drew upon the boys natural desire for competiton to help them review for the exam.

As with all discussions that put people into categories, you must be careful not to generalize to the extent that you forget that these are guidelines. The descriptions may fit the majority of boys and girls, yet it may not fit you or your child. Nonetheless, this is a thought-provoking and must-read book for all parents.

Owen the orator

2007-06-11T13:18:00.000-07:00

"Mommy, I need you because I need you." Sounds like a good reason to me.

Lessons in the produce section

2007-06-08T13:06:00.000-07:00

The boys were taking turns picking the food items off the shelves at Stater Bros. this morning.

"Jonas, please find the bananas," I say.

"I got nanas," says Jonas.

"Great! Owen, what's the first thing we put in salad?"

"Guacamole."

"Well, yes, sometimes we put avocados in our salad. But what is the first thing we put in the salad bowl?"

"Uhhhh...," he replies.

Then I realize that he calls all forms of lettuce salad, as in he wants pickles, cheese and salad in his sandwich. So I switch my tactic. "Where is the lettuce?"

"Right here!"

At this point a woman leans close to me and says, "You're doing school right here."

Exactly!

Shopping for compliments

2007-06-07T15:13:00.000-07:00

I dragged the boys to Penney's this morning to find a few summer clothes for me. I wasn't feeling good about this since most of my clothes from last summer don't fit. Aagh. The boys weren't enjoying shopping either. Jonas, sitting in the back of the double stroller, seemed to think it funny to hit whatever was in front of him--Owen's head. Thankfully, Owen didn't scream or hit Jonas back. After Jonas' time-out, Owen said, "I don't like shopping. I want to go home." I'm with you kid.

Somehow I was able to grab a couple of items and managed to get us all squeezed into the dressing room. I miraculously found an outfit that fit and didn't look too bad either. Owen said, "You're beautiful Mom!" Aaaahhh, that made the whole outing worth it.

Me without children

2007-06-05T21:48:00.000-07:00

Here I am relaxing in a serene spot at the B&B we stayed at in the Okanagan Valley. Jack and I (That's right, just the two of us. It doesn't happen often and it was wonderful!) spent a lovely long weekend there to celebrate the wedding of some good friends. I'd rather post a photo of me immersed in a novel, something that I actually spent more time doing and actually preferred. But that photo was embarassingly ugly. So my vanity wins out and you see me painting my toenails rather than educating my mind. Sigh.

The view we soaked our souls in. The very same one I enjoyed from the wicker chair above. Now I know why the license plates advertise, "Beautiful British Columbia."

Happiest day of my life

2007-06-04T19:56:00.000-07:00

Having just returned from a wedding, of course, that topic is on my mind. Even now, six and half years after Jack and I publicly stated our vows to each other, I'm instantly transported to that day whenever we witness others doing much the same thing.

As a mother I know I’m suppose to say that the happiest day of my life was the day my children were born. But let’s be honest, it was quite painful. Lest I be misunderstood, I’m trilled to have my children in my life! Although parenting is much harder than anyone can understand pre-baby, I really don’t want to go back to life before them. I love them more deeply and thoroughly than I could have imagined.

Yet the happiest day of my life was the day I married their father. I knew that marrying this man was the right thing for me. No doubts. And without that day, my boys wouldn’t have come into my life.

Motivated by MotherStyles

2007-05-29T14:33:00.000-07:00

MotherStyles: Using Personality Type to Discover Your Parenting Strengths has truly been an answer to prayer for me. Since I’ve become a mother I’ve often found myself comparing my mothering style to other fabulous moms and I come up short. I wondered if some women are just natural-born mothers. Perhaps I missed the necessary DNA.

I struggle with the homemaking aspect of being a stay-at-home mom. I’m not nearly as organized and structured as I think a good mom should be. Sometimes I get overwhelmed with all the physical needs of my kids. I see many moms who left their careers without a backward glance while I have grieved the loss of my built-in way of learning new ideas, engaging in stimulating conversations and creating things.

While I’ve moaned about my short-comings, I’ve forgotten what I am good at. I’m tuned in to my kids feelings and I encourage them to be themselves. I love playing with them and getting to be a part of their imaginary worlds. We enjoy pretending the swing set is a pirate ship and we're hunting for buried treasure in our backyard. We love to snuggle on the couch to read stories, have picnics in front of the fireplace on chilly nights, play games and so on.

This book uses the Myers-Briggs temperament indicator to help mothers recognize their strengths, understand their struggles and provide practical tips to reenergize themselves. Penley describes each of the personality types in depth so you can understand yourself and possibly other mothers better.

I found the specific tips on how each type can reenergize herself particularly helpful. For instance, as an INFP, I need at least 30-60 minutes of solitude a day to energize my introverted preference; I feed on new ideas, perspectives and dreams as an intuitive so I’m at my best when I take time to read, talk to an interesting person, learn something new, or daydream; as a feeler I need a break from others’ needs; and as a perceiving type I need freedom from a tight schedule, so I give myself unscheduled hangout time and break the routine once in awhile. My house is certainly messier since I’ve been implementing these ideas, but I’m a much happier mommy. And my kids are happier because I have more patience and energy for them.

The best part about this book is how validating it is to EVERY mother. There is no perfect mother. There is no temperament that is better at mothering than others are. We all have our strengths and this book helps us to value what we are naturally good at.

It's a conspirament!

2007-05-28T09:30:00.000-07:00

That's what Owen says when he's mixing things together, like the ketchup and water I saw him stirring the other day. I can't help but wonder if the experiment is a conspiracy or a conspiracy is an experiment.

My life in a chestnut shell

2007-05-24T15:23:00.001-07:00

I know it's hardly the time for mistletoe and Santa Claus, but I thought posting our latest Christmas letter would give you a sense of what our lives are like.

November 26, 2006
Dear Diary,
Today, I’m going to get a head-start on our annual Christmas letter. I want to get it done in plenty of time to mail before the holidays. Let’s see, what have we done this year… uh-oh, Owen just poured a gallon of milk on the kitchen floor, gotta go!

November 30, 2006
Dear Diary,
Today, I’m going to write our Christmas letter. The boys are playing quietly together, so I finally have a chance to sit down and think a bit. They’re such good friends. Jonas copies everything Owen does. Of course, they have the usual squabbles 4-year-old and 2-year-old boys are going to have, but they really are buddies. What? Looks like someone destroyed someone’s train tracks. I never knew I’d grow up to become an expert track builder.

December 1, 2006
Dear Diary,
OK, now’s my chance to write the Christmas letter. Jonas is taking a nap and Owen is playing outside on the swing set the boys got for their birthdays. I think I love that thing almost as much as they do! Oh no, I hear a cry for Mommy. Owen got a scratch and “needs” Grandpa’s band-aid (Grandpa gave him Dora the Explorer band-aids and they are much more popular than the plain Band-aids I buy at Costco).

December 3, 2006
Dear Diary,
Today, I really am going to write that Christmas letter. I don’t know what to say in it though. I mean, we haven’t had any exotic trips, nobody’s offered our boys a modeling contract and Jack hasn’t won the Nobel Prize in chemistry yet, so what can I say that will make the letter fun and interesting?

December 6, 2006
Dear Diary,
Today, I really, really AM going to write that Christmas letter. I love being home with my kids, but it still amazes me how busy I can be all day yet by day’s end still have laundry tumbled on the couch, dirty dishes in the sink and bread crumbs and jelly smears on the floor. I tried working outside the home for a while earlier this year. I was feeling restless and missing the challenges and affirmations I got while working, not to mention the money. So I started looking for a part-time job. Then I got an offer with a local company editing nonfiction books. They offered flexible hours, so I could work in the evenings and weekends, but it had to be 40 hours a week in the office. While I was debating whether or not to take the job, our backyard fence blew down and our bank account was hovering near zero balance. I took the job. I soon realized that I missed my boys too much. I worked long enough to pay off the mini-van. Those five months now feel like an unreal hick-up in my life. It settled that nagging question I’ve had the past four years though—I am happier at home with my children than at the office right now. But I do need something. I’ve been working seriously on developing a part-time freelance career since I left that job. I’ve made some contacts and have done a couple editing projects so far and am confident more will come. Actually, I need to finish up one of those projects. With the boys in bed for the night this is my time to get some work done.

December 10, 2006
Dear Diary,
Jack and I have been married for six years today. So why am I trying to write that Christmas letter? I have something, or rather, someone, more important to focus on today. See ya!

December 12, 2006
Dear Diary,
I haven’t made any progress on that blasted Christmas letter. What can I say about Jack… As usual, he’s been working hard on getting his results published and seeking an NIH grant. One of the sweetest sounds of the day is when we hear the motor for the garage door opening. All three of us yell, “Daddy's home!” and run to greet him. That’s him now, gotta go.

December 18, 2006
Dear Diary,
I’ve got to write that thing! It’s been hanging over my head like a mistletoe encrusted guillotine. Let’s see, Owen is now 4 and broadening his interests beyond Thomas the Tank Engine. We took him to Legoland to celebrate his birthday and now Legos are his favorite toy. He still loves his trains and cars and airplanes though. In fact, that’s what he’s building with his Legos. He’s also become very curious, asking questions that require trips to the library to learn about the solar system and weather. Jonas is a charming 2-year-old who follows his big brother like a shadow. He’s become a little “Me too.” He is expressing himself better every day. “I help,” he says and he drags a step stool to wherever I am. I’ll often find him standing on that step stool at the kitchen counter and he’ll say, “I cooking Mommy.” Oops, that what’s he doing right now and how in the world did he get the lid off the peanut butter jar?

December 23, 2006
Dear Diary,
I cannot put it off any longer! It’s practically Christmas!! We’ve drove the past two days to spend the holiday with family and I still haven’t finished that thing. At this rate it won’t be a Christmas letter or a New Year’s letter, but an Easter letter! Oh well, that’s our lives. We’re busy with kissing scraped knees, mediating disputes, reading stories, singing and dancing and blowing our “trumpets” (empty toilet paper tubes or the like), cleaning messes, making trips to the grocery store, playing trains, working at home or the office, answering questions like “Why does it rain?”, playing at the park with friends, building vehicles out of Legos, and so on. And as I’ve learned earlier this year, it’s the way I want it.