Mom & Pop Home School

Well, the tree is up and decorated and even has a few presents piled underneath. Last night we assembled and decorated a gingerbread house (from a kit, no I’m not completely insane). Sunshine has mailed her letter to Santa, in which she asked for a Strawberry Shortcake video, some new toy food for her kitchen, and a pink and green stuffed turtle (Santa has not been able to find the turtle, but otherwise, she’s in good shape). She also, very thoughtfully, asked for some Dragon Blocs for Cricket and “some kinda grownup toys for Mom and Dad”. What a sweet child! The children have been faithfully opening the little windows on the advent calendar sent to them by Gigi (their paternal grandmother). And today for school we made cookies.

Yesterday we picked out recipes, made a shopping list, and went to the store where Cricket helped locate cookie ingredients and other grocery items. At one point I sent him back to the produce section because we’d forgotten the grapes I meant to get for Christmas Eve dinner (more on this later). After waiting awhile for him to come back, I went to see what was taking so long. The place where he is accustomed to finding the grapes was filled with gift boxes of oranges, and he hadn’t been able to find any grapes. Rather than panic (which is what he would definitely have done a year ago) or give up, he had resourcefully located a friendly-looking young man wearing an apron with the store logo on it and asked for assistance. When I arrived Cricket was making his selection and the young man was walking away with an amused smile and a twinkle in his eye. I can only imagine how the conversation might have gone. I tell you, though, moments like that definitely make me feel like this kid is going to be fine. He’ll grow up and have a nice, normal-ish, independent life. (There are other moments when I’m sure he’ll have to be institutionalized, like when he eats his bookmarks, but we’re not going to talk about that right now.)

Today he made a batch of snickerdoodles almost all by himself. All I did was help pour the vanilla into the measuring spoon (Him: “Mom, THAT’s vanilla? I didn’t know vanilla looked like THAT!” Me: “What did you think it looked like?” Him: “I don’t know, maybe lighter…and sort of creamy.” This led to a discussion about vanilla beans and where vanilla comes from. We even looked up a picture of vanilla beans online. And you thought cookie-baking shouldn’t count as school. Pshaw!) And I also rolled the dough into balls which he and sunshine rolled in the cinnamon sugar and put on the pan. But he did all the measuring and mixing himself. How’s that for cool! I helped Sunshine make lemon bars. She thought we should cut them to look like stars, but I talked her into diamonds instead. Whew! Tomorrow when we make sugar cookies we’ll make some look like stars.

Thursday we’re going to try our hands at some homemade candy. When I was growing up we often dipped chocolates at Chrismas time. This is going to be FUN! Ok, well, there’s a fairly high possibility that Cricket will flip out when he realizes I want him to put his fingers in the melted chocolate. I’m not sure how that’s going to go over, but we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. I have to come up with a good batch of fondant first anyway. Aunt W (aka “auntie odd” in some comments here) is coming for a visit, and I distinctly remember her sitting at the next pie plate over during the childhood chocolate dipping sessions, so hopefully between the two of us we can pull it off.

So I think we’re ready for Christmas, more or less. I had wanted to hang lights on the house this year, which hasn’t happened due to everyone being sick, and I’m not sure it’s worth it at this point. The wreath and the nutcracker collection are still in a box. But the Christmas spirit is growing around here anyway. Sunshine lectures me at least daily about Mary and Joseph and Baby Jesus, the kings and “their other friends who have pet sheeps” (for some reason the word “shepherd” is having a hard time sinking in). The presents are purchased (although I still need to pick up one more thing for auntie, and Amazon says some of Pop’s presents are going to be late…sigh…so he’ll get some wrapped up pictures of what’s on its way.) Sunshine has written a letter for Auntie’s dog, Duchess and placed it under the tree “so Duchess can eat it when she gets here” (at least she has realistic expectations as to what a dog might do with a letter). And we’ve got what we need for our Christmas Eve feast.

We have a little different approach to celebratory meals at Christmas time. This has worked out well for us because we have always lived too far from our extended families to do much visiting, so our wackiness doesn’t inconvenience anyone else. Auntie will just have to play along while she’s here, but she’s not the sort to get uptight about this sort of thing. Anyway, we have our special meal on Christmas Eve, rather than Christmas Day. We turn off all the lights and electronics (and in this house, that’s a rare even in itself) and eat by the light of candles and oil lamps (one of which is a replica of the kind of lamps used in Bethlehem at the time of Christ). We eat from simple wooden plates, and dinner consists of the kinds of foods that might have been available long ago in Bethlehem: olives, dates, figs, smoked fish, that sort of thing. We read the story of Christ’s birth from the scriptures, and talk about why this is important to us now. We find that this helps take the focus away from Santa and gifts, and who’s going to get what, and turns the evening into a special time in which we can bond as a family and feel the Spirit in our home. Dinner on Christmas Day is usually grilled cheese sandwiches and soup. This way, Mom doesn’t spend her holiday in the kitchen cooking a fancy dinner nobody’s going to eat because they’re full of stocking candy and nuts and Christmas cookies. It’s not everybody’s idea of a fun time at Christmas, but it works for us.

I may or may not get back here before Christmas, so if I don’t, please accept my best wishes for a blessed Christmas for you and yours, and I’ll be back again when the celebrations are past.

A Mother’s Prayer

Somewhere between
The ringing of the clock
And the
Rising of the sun,
Before the erupting need
For clean socks and
Full tummies,
Backpacks, and
Briefcases, books and
Bicycles, and goodbye kisses,
Let me find
Three minutes to sit;
Two minutes to think;
One minute to pray;
Half a moment to remember
……who I am.

In the middle of the day
And the dishes,
The basket
Full of laundry and the
Empty refrigerator,
In the midst of
Mud pies and
Phone calls,
Piled paperwork, and
Peanut butter fingerprints,
Permit me
Three minutes to stand;
Two minutes to ponder;
One minute of grace;
Half a moment to feel
……that I am Thine.

In the quiet time
After one more
Story, one more
Kiss, one more
Soft, toddling embrace,
After all the
Closet monsters
Are evicted,
And drinks of water
Have been handed ‘round,
Oh, grant me
Three minutes to kneel
Two minutes to reflect
One minute of wonder
A still half-moment to know
…..that Thou art God.

As I think I mentioned way back at the beginning, this blog is part of a web site which I’m working on. Today I posted new content in the Science section. I’ve finally finished marking up my lesson plans for the rest of the year for science, and thought I’d share for anyone who’s looking for a good elementary level Life Science program. We’ve really enjoyed it so far, and the rest of the year looks like loads of fun as well.

It’s been a while since I posted. We’ve been squeezing a few educational moments in between lots of sick days this past week or so. Our latest project is learning to cough in four-part harmony. I regret that there is little success to report on that venture, despite the great deal of practice that’s been going on.

[Note: the following paragraphs are not for the squeamish. If you are squeamish, you might want to skip to the last three paragraphs now. If you insist on reading in spite of this warning, it might help if you know I was wearing latex gloves the entire time. And Sunshine wore one too…at least for the first few minutes.]

Today, Sunshine helped me clean out the worm bin. This is a task that should always be done in the company of a four year-old optimist with an imagination. Instead of viewing the job as pawing through a pile of poop looking for nasty, writhing vermin, it was instead High Adventure! We found buried treasures (aka peanut shells the worms hadn’t finished breaking down). We found the King Worm, the Queen Worm, several baby and “kid” worms, an angry worm, a silly worm, a lazy worm, and a stringy worm–each discovery followed by a resounding, “Check!” from the short pink-and-purple-clad clerk at my elbow. Oh good, I was looking for that one. Names were invented for many of the worms too–but not in the usual, “Hey, what should we name this one?” sort of way. Oh no. With Sunshine it was always, “OH! Mom! Look at that! You found Squilchy! Good job Mom! Hi, Squilchy, how are you today? Are you scared of us? Don’t worry, we have a new home for you right over here. See? Here are your friend worms right here waiting for you. They missed you, Squilchy!”

And just so you know, worms are not insects because worms do not have six legs. Insects always have six legs. Unless one got pulled off. Worms have got ZERO legs. That means none. Worms (in fact) HATE legs. They like to “smooooth along” like that. You can’t do like that if you have legs. That’s why worms do not like legs. (Hey, she was paying attention during the insect unit in science. Woo hoo!)

Worms also do not like light, a fact which we use in harvesting the compost. We squish the “soil” in the bin into six or so different piles, let them sit for a few minutes with the lid off, and then start skimming off the outside inch or so from each pile. You have to pick out a few stragglers, but most of the worms burrow down away from the light and we’re able to skim off the compost without having to do too much picking. After a while, though, you get down to where there’s about as much worm as there is compost in the pile. At this point, you can pick up a whole wiggly handful of worms (along with the castings). You can make a mud pie and let it sit a few minutes while the worms pull all their body parts in away from the light. Then, you can “slice” it with your hand, and all these wriggly, squirmy, squishy, stupendous worms just spill out! Big ones, little ones, fat ones, skinny ones, just twisting and twining around. You can pick them up, and they spill over the sides of your hands, and burrow ticklishly down between your fingers, which is absolutely, astonishingly, wonderously delightful–if you happen to be four and nobody has yet informed you that a handful of worms is disgusting. And if you’re with a delighted four year-old, it’s hard not to see the wonder in a thing like that yourself. I love how having kids makes everything new and fresh again. Even worm poop.

So we got the worms all transferred to the fresh set-up, and harvested a bucketful of compost that will get worked into the garden boxes in the spring. “Black gold” they call the stuff in the world of gardening. Sunshine thinks so too, but somehow I think it’s not for the same reason. A good time was had by all, and when we’d finished putting everything away and sweeping and mopping, and scrubbing up, Sunshine put her little hands on her hips, surveyed the scene with a satisfied air, and pronounced, “Mom, that was a fun, fun day. Now let’s make pancakes.”

As it happened, Mom was in the mood for pancakes for dinner. Pop, however, walked into the room just then and heard us discussing what would need to be done in order to produce pancakes, and offered to go pick something up for dinner if we wanted instead. It seems pancakes did not sound good to Pop tonight. I said fast food didn’t sound good to me and I was too tired to actually cook. He said maybe we should go out. I pointed out that at Cracker Barrel I could get pancakes and he could get non-pancake fare. Cricket wandered in about then, and Pop asked him what he thought about Cracker Barrel for dinner. Cricket pondered for a few minutes, and then explained, “I’m having a hard time deciding. On one hand, I like going to Cracker Barrel for supper. On the other hand, I REALLY like Mom’s cooking. The only thing that’s as good as Mom’s cooking–not better, but just as good–is the cheesecake at Carl’s Jr. And you know how much I like cheesecake.” (What a great kid! And they said he has no social skills. Pshaw!) We decided to compromise–Cracker Barrel tonight, Mom’s cooking tomorrow. Ah yes, the best of both worlds. So we hauled our disease ridden (but steadily improving in health) carcasses off to Cracker Barrel.

After dinner, Pushover Pop let the kids each pick out a new stuffed animal at the Country Store. Cricket got a “very soft” husky dog that looks like his digi-pet, and Pop found Sunshine (get this) a pink unicorn (could you just gag, that’s so “sweet”!). When we got home we read “Mooseltoe”, which I highly recommend, and sent the kidlets off to bed.

Yes, indeed, it’s been a fun, fun day. (Cough, hack, sniffle.) And we’re working back toward the land of the living.

Isn’t it funny how sometimes the best characteristics of something can also be the worst? Take this morning, for example. This morning, Sunshine is being her usual chipper, energetic, bubbly self–one of her best traits. However, this is a little grating because it means Sunshine is now over the nasty cold she’s passed on to the rest of us. Here we are all miserably sniffling and coughing and using our “pony voices” (aka hoarse), and the person who did this to us is singing and dancing and being a puppy. That’s right, a little yippy-dog puppy. And let me tell you, if I wanted a dog, I would have…..never mind.

Anywho, we played hookie from church yesterday because Mom and Pop and Cricket were not feeling well. And this morning we slept in a bit. That’s one of the best things about homeschooling; if you want to get up late and stay in your jammies until noon, you can. You can! Isn’t it fabulous? Except this morning I was lying in bed sometime between eight thirty and nine o’clock, still in my jammies, trying to convince myself I’d better haul out, when the doorbell rang. Yessiree, the doorbell rang. I thought about just staying in bed and not answering it and hoping it was just the UPS man or something and he could dump the box on the porch and….but then I heard the kids running to answer the door. The little darilings. And Pop was in the shower, which meant that the bathroom door was locked, which meant that I couldn’t jump into some clothes quick, or even grab my robe because our walk-in closet is on the other side of the door to the master bathroom. And it would take too long to find something to pick the lock. I think there’s a little wire thing on top of the door frame, but lemme tell ya–I’m short. That’s right, short. Wanna make something of it? Snark. So I tromp down the stairs thinking it’s a good thing I’m at least wearing some good, thick flannel pajamas today, and not some wispy nightgown, and when I get to the front door, there’s Cricket explaining to one of Pop’s clients that his father is in the shower right now. The man identifies himself to me, grinning uncertainly, and states that he’s here to pick up some disks from Pop. I have him come in out of the cold, while laughingly explaining that we’ve slept in today, and he “casually” remarks that it feels good to do that sometimes (but looking everywhere but at me and my jammies), and I poke my head into Pop’s office to look for the disks in question. No luck. So I dash upstairs, bang on the bathroom door, and “nicely” explain the situation. Pop hollers back with where to find the disks, and I dash my pj-ed, greasy-haired self back down the stairs to the office, and dig under some papers (right where I looked before) and sure enough, there they are. Disks. Keep smiling…..just keep smiling. So I hand over the disks, and send said client packing. Goodbye, Mr. Client! Have a lovely day, Mr. Client. I shut the door, heave a huge sigh of relief, and start trying to figure out where best to dig into my day. And that’s when I looked down and saw that two middle buttons of the five on my pajama top had come undone. I wasn’t completely flapping in the breeze, but there was a definite gap, and I have no idea what sort of view Mr. Client might have had. Sigh. I tell you this only because some private communications I’ve received from some of my readers indicate that some of you out there are under the impression that I have my act together and never have days like this. Har har har. Lemme tell ya. Now–let us never speak of this again.

But isn’t it great that when you homeschool you can sleep in, and stay in your pajamas all morning? Isn’t it?