HS: Week 8

This week:

• The boys informed me that they love to play their "sports."  Apparently, the only equipment necessary for "sports" are random sticks and heavy osage orange balls.  Owen Ray held his makeshift bat straight in the air and Chandler chucked the heavy green baseball at him.  It was glorious.  
• I love Math-U-See.  Mostly because Owen Ray delights in playing with the blocks.  

•  Trey and I got the chance to head out to SETX to see not only his parents but also his friend, Kelly, who got married over the weekend.  It was a really wonderful weekend, and my super-talented mother-in-law was willing to cut my hair.  I'm so thankful not to deal with all those short post-baby hairs that were so unmanageable!
• Ellie is definitely a little girl with big brothers. Here she stands guarding her batcave with a large pirate sword.

•  Nash Farms: This is our 4th year in a row.  It's always so much fun to spend the day with cousins.  This time was even better than usual because Grandpa (who is now a Texas, too) got to join us!

HS: Week 7

Such an unusual week.  I stayed up late Sunday night to organize lesson plans and was so excited that I managed to get out of bed at 5am and spend a good, solid hour with Jesus.  I was so anticipating doing this again on Tuesday, that I had almost no issue bounding out of bed once again at 5am, already looking forward to that quiet, restful hour.  Instead, I find that both my boys are up in bed, playing quietly and waiting for the first sound of movement so that they can have an excuse to jump out of bed and attack me.  So much for peace and quiet.  This was the morning God had planned for me.  Why, I'm not sure.  But apparently I'm supposed to be hanging out with these two guys before the sun has even come up.  -- Oh, what's that I hear?  Their little sister? Yes.  Elinor is up and crying now, too.  In a moment of Holy Spirit inspiration, I announced that we were all going an early morning walk.  We regularly go on morning walks, but this was different.  Why?  Well, for starters the moon was still bright and shining along with hundreds of twinkling stars.  The street lights were lit, and we were literally walking around our neighborhood in the dark.  We got to the end of one street and happened upon cows out to pasture.  Seriously, they were quite close and were making lots of fabulous "moo" sounds to show off.  I was amazed.  The boys asked if we were in "Texas Wild,"  a part of the Fort Worth Zoo that features the natural landscape of Texas.  I assured that that we were in Texas, but not at the Fort Worth Zoo.  They wondered and wondered at how the shrubbery and the cows got there.  They were quite enchanted.  Also, they didn't know how the plants were covered in water.  I suppose they'd never witnessed early morning dew drops, and it was just amazing to them that all those little droplets were suspended on the individual leaves and blades of grass. It was a long walk and we managed to go from a twinkling night sky to a sunrise by the time we got home. 

We've been enjoying the crisp fall weather -- which necessitates enjoying caramel apples -- and bridge building.  After reading (and loving) The Three Billy Goats Gruff last week, the boys valiantly made and crossed a bridge.  I played the part of the troll, naturally.

To close out the week, we went to the state fair as a family.  I thought it would be appropriate to rent Rodgers and Hammerstein's "State Fair" or at the very least listen to the soundtrack, but Trey assured me it wasn't.  So I sang the opening song to myself "Our state fair is a great state fair; don't miss it -- don't even be late" because that's the kind of thing one ought to sing to oneself when anticipating such an event.  Anyhow -- the state fair was wildly educational.  The kids got to learn all about the workings of a farm, planting seeds and feeding livestock -- and they sat in on their very first pig races.  Justin Bee-boar beat Christina Hoguilera.  Seriously.  It was very close, but Justin pulled through at the end.  Need I say more?

HS: Hiatus

One of the amazing benefits of homeschooling is that we can take a vacation... well... whenever.  This past weekend, when I had filled out our weekly calendar that hangs over the kids table, I realized that we had something going on each and every day. I loathe being over-scheduled.  And we were. I asked Trey if we could take a break from formal homeschooling this week, and he graciously agreed.  I'm so glad we took a mini-hiatus because it was a super busy week.

Despite putting aside all our schoolwork, lots of reading aloud still took place.  The highlight of the week was introducing Owen Ray and Chandler to The Three Billy Goats Gruff. The boys have begged to have it read to them over and over again.  Trey says he remembers loving the story as a little boy, so there must be something universally appealing about trolls who live under bridges and goats who trample them.

Here are some snapshots of our busy week:

HS: Week 6

In addition to Owen Ray's Sonlight core (which I adore), we read through Blueberries for Sal and did some fun related activities.  The boys most enjoyed the day we did our own blueberry hunt.  With pails in ,they found the 10 blueberries I had hidden throughout the living room.  They were extremely proud of their berry finding skills.

We also went on our second field trip of the year. We visited Fire Station #1 in Burleson.  The kids were enthralled with the fire engine and all the cool equipment that fire fighters use to put out fires.  They talked to the kids about safety and even sent each of them home with goody bags about ways to reinforce those concepts.  The goody bag included a glow bracelet that when activated burst directly in my eye.  So much for safety.  Thankfully I was able to go to my eyewash station (i.e. my kitchen sink) and flush it with water for 10 minutes.  We give out glow bracelets every Halloween, so I've activated hundreds of them and never have I had one burst on me.  Yikes. 

Again, being outside each day has been life-giving. I am so glad that the weather has started to morph into Fall.  There is not a day that passes that we don't see something to marvel at, whether it's a wild rabbit darting across the field or squirrels jumping from branch to branch.  So lovely.
 

HS: Week 5

This week has been extremely relaxed.  By relaxed, I mean that we have done the bare minimum... and I am so okay with that.  Dear friends of ours are getting married this Saturday, and there have been some behind the scenes things that we've been coordinating and prioritizing, so homeschooling has not been at the forefront.  Additionally, I've had a huge influx of orders from my Etsy store, so any free moment I have goes to painting. 

I am so thankful for Sonlight this week.  Their "open and go" lesson plans have allowed me to continue to teach even when life is hectic.  On Thursday, I was astounded to look in my lesson plans and see that I was instructed to go outside and do somersaults with my child.  Seriously.  And you had better believe that we did some somersaults.  It might have been Owen Ray's favorite lesson from the week. 

Owen Ray has started reading this past month, and I can't tell you how motivating it is for him to be able to read a short story to Trey or myself.  I love to listen to him tediously blend the letter sounds "ssssiiiiiick" and then triumphantly announce: "Sick! The cat is sick!" 

Most of all though, I love to see their imagination and play run wild.  Yesterday, the boys played for hours unsupervised in their room.  I was worried that I hadn't been called upon to act as chief resolver of conflicts.  I peaked in to make sure that all was well.  The boys informed me that they had found a secret passageway all the way to to Australia.  They reassured me that there was plenty of water for the journey and they planned to eat crab on the way if they got hungry...and not to worry about them.  {sigh}.  I love that.  

HS: Week 4

 

This week has been the week of Runaway Bunny. Chandler, at 2, really connects with this book.  He loves to tell me what's happening on each page -- "That mommy bunny gonna catch her baby bunny with a fishing pole and a net."  Personally, I'm not a fan of the illustrator, Clement Hurd.  But since he was illustrating for children, and I've yet to meet a child that didn't delight in his illustrations in Goodnight Moon, I think my opinion must be based on some sort of ignorance.

One of our activities involved bunny ears

...and more bunny ears

 This week was also the week of discovering fun things outdoors.  We stopped on our walk to watch two squirrels playing in the trees overhead for what must have been 15 minutes.  Now, that may not sound very impressive, but to have a 2 and 5 year old boy amuse themselves by staring up into trees with rapt attention -- I was surprised.  They are not often still unless they are in front of something involving media.  But these squirrels kept scurrying left and right, leaping back and forth between two trees, and playing what seemed to be a lively game of tag.  We also found something else exciting this week:

Snakeskin

What the boys called "mechanical wooden hammers"

Beauty

Joy

Playing the Victim: Reveling in the so-called "Mommy Wars"

{photo credit: mommyish.com}

When our husbands ask us: “So what’s this ‘Mommy War’ thing everyone is posting articles about on Facebook?” are we not at least a little bit embarrassed to try to formulate a response?

“Well…er… Some moms have strong opinions about parenting choices, and… um… it makes the rest of us feel bad. They feel like what they’re doing is right, and it’s not what I’m doing.”

Or perhaps:

“Well, sometimes us women go on Pinterest and discover that there are 13 Good Night Moon activities that this other mom did with her children… and we only did 2.  So, y’know, we feel like total failures. That other mom’s a jerk.”

Maybe even:

“Remember when I lost my milk supply early on with Chandler?  The nerve of those women breastfeeding in front of me.  It was like they didn’t even care about what they were putting me through. I couldn’t take out the formula bottle in front of them.  They’re such judgers. Judging.”

After uttering one of these statements, a light bulb may go off.  CRAP. I’m the weaker brother (or in this case, sister).  I am calling out my sisters on their failure to take into consideration my insecurities – expressed or not – on everything from how I feed and diaper my baby to what school I’m sending my kindergartener to.  Good Lord.  I need to get over myself.  

Oftentimes, when I meet another mom she has strong ideas about child-rearing.  Why?  Because it’s her business to.  She has done her research and she may have decided that she’ll breastfeed, but she’s not going to co-sleep, she’s going to stick with disposable diapers, she’s only feeding her kids organic food, and she’s definitely sending her child to the local classical charter school. 

She feels strongly about all of these things.  She loves to talk about them.  And you know what, these choices she’s making are hers to make, and they are of vital importance to her.  She shouldn’t be afraid to be enthusiastic about them – particularly not on her blog or her pinterest board as if that’s force feeding it down our throats.  

Some of my dearest friends feed their children organic food and are horrified by all those nasty pesticides and toxins that are in our food.  It is so worth it to them to beef up their grocery budget so that they can avoid feeding that “poisoned” food to their children.  

As the non-organic Aldi shopper that I am, I have a few choices.  I can go home and cry myself to sleep because I’m a horrible mom that’s been poisoning my child.  I can also get pissed off at my friend for holding such strong opinions and call her to repentance for making me feel bad.  I have the option of reading some studies and articles and re-examine my choice regarding whether or not it’s worth the cost to buy organic, just to make sure I know why I stand where I stand.  Or I can just listen intently– and delight in the fact that this mom feels confident in one of her parenting choices.  

    

Here’s a truth: I am not the center of the universe.  When I’m reading someone’s blog and they are championing the virtues of co-sleeping and how much better it is for my baby, I can choose whether to feel like that blog is about attacking me… or not.  And let me tell you, the answer (in almost every case) is not.  In the unlikely event that this blog, facebook post, or pinterest board is actually about attacking my decisions as a mom, then why the heck am I reading it in the first place?

Here’s the scenario in a face-to-face conversation.  I don’t co-sleep.  Why don’t I co-sleep?  Because when I fell asleep with my baby still in my arms, I woke up in the middle of the night thinking my laptop was next to me and quickly pushed it out of my bed.  The laptop screamed when it hit the floor.  So, I don’t co-sleep.  Plus, my husband isn’t a fan of it.  Done.  You co-sleep?  It helps you bond with your baby?  You’ve done your research and you worry about the side-effects of not co-sleeping?  Awesome.  I am so okay with that.  Because when I try really hard, I can be a grown-up who’s not ruled by my insecurities.  I can let you make your decisions and even share them with conviction, without feeling threatened. Unfortunately, I don’t always try really hard, so I’m not always a grown-up.

When I was a teacher, education companies were constantly pitching their curriculum to our department. 

• “Our product will help your student’s finally reach their potential."
• “If you don’t use our product, your students won’t learn.  They’ll fail their standardized tests.”
• “Good teachers use our curriculum.  Here, just look at these charts or read these testimonials.”
• "Your students have been struggling because you picked the wrong curriculum last year."

These statements are far more overt than the ones we so often read between the lines (or even impose) in the so-called “Mommy Wars.”  As a teacher, I cannot turn off the light and hide underneath my desk.  I don’t write a pointed letter to Prentice Hall or Houghton-Mifflin for making me feel like a failure.  In fact, those things would never occur to me.  Because I don’t take their opinions (even when presented as fact) and over-personalize them.  I know that they are committed to their curriculum and believe in it 100%.  Good. They should.  I’m not sure what kind of rep they would be if they didn’t tout the excellencies of their program above all the others. 

So, what do I do?  I simply take in their information, and make a decision about what curriculum I’m going to adopt for my students.  What if I choose Houghton-Mifflin, but I find out a week later that my best friend at the district next door can’t imagine life without Prentice Hall?  Do I ask myself: “Why is she trying to hurt me?  Why does she think I’m such a terrible teacher?”  Surely not.  That would be silly.  We’re grown-ups, remember?  We can celebrate the other teacher’s success and their curriculum choice convictions without resorting to feelings of bitterness or playing the victim.  

I suppose the reason I’m writing this is to remind myself of what I already know – that sometimes the pendulum swings too far, that me expecting and requiring other mom’s not to voice their passions with strong convictions  because… well… it makes me feel bad, that’s just really my issue.   My inability to want to get out of bed in the morning because I was up late the night before on Pinterest learning about all the ways I’m failing to enrich my children’s life – that’s a me-issue, not a them issue.  At what point am I going to stop reveling in the role of the weaker sister, ravaged and paralyzed by insecurities I continue to feed, and start calling myself to repentance?  I need to repent of my warped thought processes, of finding my identity in the opinions (perceived or verbalized) of others, and of projecting my insecurities onto other moms. Ultimately, I need to get over myself because this is just one more way I’m trying to live my dream of being the center of the universe. It’s been my dream since birth, y’all.  Thankfully, it just isn’t the reality.  Lord have mercy.