Lazy Moms Rock

As many of you may know, or can have guessed, we're big into the Free Range Kid movement.  Haven't heard of it before?  Check out Lenore Skenazy's blog by clicking this link Free Range Kids.  We were already free ranging things before I read her book (which had be laughing out loud in the library), and her book & blog have made us more confirmed in the things we're doing .. and sometimes not doing.

What is so very cool about this, to me, is that it is basically an adamant stance on the issue that, generally speaking, the way kids have been raised throughout history was with freedoms we no longer allow our kids, with trust we no longer allow our children to earn, and with faith, which we no longer have in our fellow human beings.  Of course there have been horrible instances of child labor and etc throughout history as well, but in general ... don't be Debbie Downer here, ok?

For example, we live within shouting distance of three playgrounds/small parks.  We also live in a neighborhood filled with children.  Yet rarely do we see children filling up these playgrounds on beautiful days nor do we see them riding their bikes on the sidewalks, playing games with other kids, and etc.  Sure, we see adults walking, but not as many kids playing. 
When most of us were growing up however the scene was quite different.  On pretty days I remember spending afternoons up in the maple tree with my best friend, or in forts we had built among the pine trees in the back yard.  Our forts were especially cool because they had furniture in them: old car seats that we found on the curb and drug back to the fort ourselves.  At night we played "Night Games" a form of tag at night with flashlights that was played through the neighborhood, with borders being designated by so&so's house to so&so's house.  Heck, I even remember spending my Summers walking a half mile or so (ironically enough, it actually was an uphill walk too!) to the neighborhood pool, where we'd check in and spend the day - with no adults shuttling us to and fro and sitting there while we swam.  By the way, I was about in fifth grade at that time.  Now, of course, that would never happen! 

So what has happened?  Have kids just gotten a lot dumber?  Are we SO scared of every little scrape and boo-boo that every imaginable (not necessarily real) danger needs to be safeguarded against?  Forgive me please, but I thought scrapes and boo-boos were part of childhood.  Yes, I had my very large share of them too.  Yes, I was in situations that no parents want for their kids - nothing so horribly bad as where your mind likely just went, more specifically I had several close calls with cars while riding my bike.  Yet, I survived.  And, more importantly, I learned from them!  I learned not to go flying around blind corners where a car may be coming down the hill.  Heck, I learned what a blind corner was!!  I learned that kids will be on bikes, so when I am driving, I better watch out for them doing the same stupid things I did when I was little. 

As a parent now, I expect my kids to learn from their own stupid mistakes.  I expect that they will have those stupid mistakes.  I also expect that they can do a lot to help out around the house, other than watching TV and playing video games.  One of our family mottoes is "Everyone Helps" simply because we know that there is always something someone can do to pitch in and help out.

In that vein, and in the vein of children being able to actually do things rather than having them done for them, I write this blog.  Today, while I balanced my checkbook and went about other tasks that needed my attention, this was happening in the kitchen:

That would be Shannon.  Standing at the kitchen table, folding his laundry.  After he folded it all he took the basket into his room where he is responsible for putting it away.  Shannon is 8, and this is a task that it was high time he learn to do.
His younger brother, Tristan who is 5, was busy cleaning the walls while Shannon folded laundry.  Both had gotten in trouble today and had to draw from the "Bag of Death" (I'll blog about that soon enough, fear not) and Tristan drew "Clean the Walls."  So, he did.  It started at with groans but ended with pride as he decided that this also needed cleaning, and so did this, and so on.

My walls are now clean(er) and laundry has been folded.  I've had my cup of coffee and my kids know that they're capable of being valuable and contributing members of our family. 

Hoorah for Lazy Moms!!

Looking Back at April

Shannon started his first year of rec soccer. This was his first game. I apologize for the poor photo quality, I was playing with a new camera, but you can see him there ~ he's the one with the ball.
He also lost his first top front tooth this month. We've finally come to the stages of big, goofy gaps in grins.

Eggs! These were the eggs we actually colored for Easter, something we haven't done in several years since ours are naturally colored. It was a fun experiment.
Here are our current Egg Tallies:

March 2011 - 97 eggs
April 2011 - 82 eggs
Year to Date (as of the end of April) - 349 eggs!

This month has been good egg wise as it is the first month since we've EVER had chickens where ALL our gals laid an egg on the same day. That happened twice this month. Pretty cool.
The general vibe about chickens continues to be positive, and that's making life a lot nicer. We may even look into placing another order of the "What the Cluck" t-shirts as we've had some inquiries about them.

The gardens have begun blooming and we've tried something new this year: selling some home raised plants! Most of them are heirloom varieties and, of course, they're raised 'organically.' I suppose legally I can't use that word since they aren't certified organic, but we grow the all naturally, without chemicals, even using collected rainwater as often as we can to water them. We've sold a lot of our tomatoes, the peppers are still coming in & we have some spoken for already, and the feedback has been really good. It will definitely be something we do next year too.
The best part of this is that it makes me feel like a true urban homesteader now. Obviously we're not able to completely live off of what we grow, but what we grow helps sustain us greatly and now it is even providing us with a little bit of income. Plus, it is wonderful to be able to get to meet new people as we have when we've sold the plants. Absolutely fantastic!

Finally, there was the last day of April, and the 60th Annual Ernest "Pig" Robertson Fishing Rodeo. This is our third year and, like previous years it was full of calamities. Broken lines, a broken pole, and so on. However, unlike previous years, this year both Shannon and Tristan caught a trout. Shannon had actually caught a second one, but as we were reeling it in and trying to get it out of the water, the line broke. We fished for a while longer with no success. Justin's parents were there (also an annual tradition) and, just as we were beginning to get ready to leave, Bill noticed a trout just kinda hanging out where we had our caught ones on the hooks in the water. Justin deftly swooped it up in the net!! It turns out the one that got away didn't get very far, and so we went home with 3 trout.

April also went out with a bang. Justin turned 30 and his party was last night. Needless to say it was a very good one. Full of good food, good drinks, and, most importantly, good friends.

We certainly are looking forward with hope and happiness.

Kid Stuff & Being a Mom

There are definite "you know you're a Mom when" moments.

Like when you find yourself at the end of your rope, mad with despair, cursing to yourself "who keeps putting my spoon in with the other spoons?!?!" .. and you're dead serious. Damnit, don't they know my tea spoon doesn't go in with the other spoons??? I am trying to seek my almighty moment of Zen, I'm being good and not drinking coffee (or rum), so where the hell is my tea spoon?!?!??!

Yea .. that was definitely a moment.


Not all moments induce such madness. Sometimes you have to learn to laugh at it. Like when you walk past your kids' room as see this

and it isn't even 9:30 in the morning yet. Actually, I snapped this photo and sent a copy of it to Justin, with the message of how I know he doesn't think I make the kids clean up at all during the day .. so here. He was shocked and wanted to know when the photo was taken. I told him that not only was that mess done this morning but that yesterday they made a mess of that equivalence a couple times over. ~ They have to clean up for lunch so that gives them plenty of chances to try and out-do their morning mess level later in the day.
I laughed about this one. They did clean it all up before lunch.

I happened to be walking by the living room yesterday morning and overheard this from Shannon - Tristan, see these towers I'm building?? When you see these towers Tristan you're eyes are gonna SPARKLE!!! And you're gonna say "Who built these towers" (my note, he said that in a voice filled with awe .. no joke) and I'm gonna say "I just can't bear to tell you." (my note again, that one was said like it was the heaviest of burdens)
He kept repeating this over and over to Tristan.

And then some afternoons, as I am trying to get dinner ready, scenes like this occur:

4pm - Shannon, with great pride - Mommy, see what I can do with Foster! (sets rope toy on table) - Ok Foster, I'm not going to give you your treat yet. (begins gently pulling dog's tail around the dog, making dog chase his tail) See Mommy, I can make him chase his tail!! Ok Foster, now you can have your treat. - (to me) Sometimes he chases his tail himself and sometimes he needs help chasing his tail.

-5:20pm - I am beginning to make dinner. Tristan opens the cabinet doors beneath the sink, looks in & asks "How come that leads to the basement??" (it doesn't), Foster leans in and looks too, apparently wondering the same thing.

OK.

Or I turn around to see a battle scarred cowboy straddling a butter knife next to a severed foot on my kitchen island. You think I am joking. I'm not.

And you just sigh....

The Totem Pole

In the animal world, or at least the canine & chicken world, there is a definite pecking order, a totem pole of how the animals view the alpha order of the pack. This is a record of Foster's view of our pack.


Top of the Totem: Mommy

~ I am pretty certain this is similar to how I look to the dog.~

Mommy has secured her place at the top of the totem pole. She is MOMMY and she is to be obeyed, at least most of the time. That would be a similar view point the kids hold as well.
However, since I am still a puppy I still want Mommy's undivided attention. No-one else may love on Mommy because Mommy loves only me. If someone else tries to love on Mommy then I must throw a fit and try to get Mommy's attention by biting at her. I am a Mommy's boy.
Mommy also gives me more treats than Daddy, including knowing that I like extra goodies in with my meals.

Next on the Totem Pole: Daddy

Daddy ranks #2 on the Totem Pole. See how serious and mean he looks?? He doesn't let me on the bed. He doesn't give me treats on my food. I don't bring him toys. I still love him though.
I've even been practicing how to sit on the couch like Daddy. He used to not let me do this, but now that I'm learning to get my butt fully on there (with my front paws on the floor) he seems to like it.
Daddy sometimes likes to think he is head of the totem pole but we all know that Mommy rules the roost.


Up Next: THE PUPPIES

There are three puppies in our house. Here is the order in which I see them.

Head Puppy: ME!

Of course I am HEAD PUPPY. The other puppies don't know how to be head puppy. I have to tell them what to do. I don't think it is fair that the other puppies get to be on the bed and I don't though. That is just wrong.

Middle Puppy: Shannon

Shannon sometimes thinks he is head puppy and sometimes he thinks he is the baby. This makes him Middle Puppy. I think Shannon needs to be taught how to behave properly and, as head puppy, it is my job to teach him. Shannon doesn't like this. Neither does Mommy. Or Daddy. They just don't know that, as Head Puppy, I HAVE to do this. See how silly he acts?? He is not acting like a proper Mastiff.
He does help Mommy out though. Today he even held our pet rabbit Logan after he finished giving her food. Of course I had to make sure he held her properly so I stayed nearby, nosing at Logan to make sure she was held securely.
I like Shannon though. He has cool toys. He has legos and cars and trains and trucks. I like playing with them. But Shannon acts like a baby and cries when I try to. I just don't get it, but I do know this is another reason why he can't be head puppy.

And Finally, the Baby Puppy: Tristan

Tristan is the baby puppy. See how he has stuff in his mouth?? I do that too but I get scolded for it. Tristan gets scolded too, but he still does it.
Since Tristan is the baby puppy it is my upmost responsibility, as Head Puppy of course, to make sure he is ok. When he walks through the house I have to make sure he doesn't fall over, so I have to constantly wrap myself around him and lean against him, securing him with my strength. I do such a good job of this that he usually stops in his tracks and yells for Mommy or Daddy to come help him walk. Babies don't know how to walk on their own.
When Tristan climbs onto Mommy and Daddy's bed I really worry about him. I have to nose at him to make sure he gets up there, sometimes even guide his feet with my mouth. He doesn't appreciate this. Babies rarely appreciate all the things you do to keep them safe. Mommy doesn't always appreciate it either and sometimes yells at me for it. She yells at Shannon when he tries to help out sometimes too. Mommy is a little crazy.
I also have to make sure he is tucked in securely when he goes to bed for naps and at night. I nose him all over. He sure must be fussy at bed time because he tends to cry about this. I guess he is just tired. Babies get tired easily and they cry when they're tired. It's ok, as Head Puppy I understand these things.
Tristan has lots of neat toys too. He has stuffed animals that I really like, including a little stuffed dog. He has cars and trains and toys like Shannon's too. And, like Shannon, he acts like a baby when I try to play with them. They don't like sharing their toys with me, this is why I am Head Puppy and they're the babies.

This is my family. I love them a lot.

A Magical Yule Beginning

Unless you live under a rock you are aware of the total Lunar Eclipse that occurred in the wee hours of the morning, which is also the Winter Solstice. This hasn't happened in 372 years (1638) and won't happen again until 2094. Since you are reading this, you obviously don't live under a rock (and if you do, I am very impressed by your wireless server!).

The boys and I spent yesterday learning a little bit about lunar eclipses. Basically they learned that it is caused by the Earth casting a shadow on the Moon because the Earth is between the Sun & Moon. Shannon will be 7 in January & Tristan is 4 1/2. I don't expect them to grasp much more of this, especially since I had to look up the info to be certain of what I was telling them.
We also talked about how long it has been since the last total Lunar Eclipse occurred on the Winter Solstice and how long it will be until the next one. I told them that, if they're lucky, they might be alive to view the next one. I tried to explain why Justin & I wouldn't and how nobody on our planet now was alive for the last one. Those were more difficult concepts for them to grasp.



Shannon found a scrap piece of paper yesterday and created this for me, without me being near/over him or knowing what he was creating. This is what I love about homeschooling & unschooling.

We went outside last night, and like so many people saw only clouds. Although we would've love to seen the actually Moon & eclipse, we weren't saddened. We still woke up the boys and, with them in our arms, wandered out onto our deck to gaze at the reddish sky for a while. It was beautiful. Magical. Dark. Softly glowing red. The air filled our lungs and bodies. We knew so many other people were outside, gazing up with us, and we felt connected to them all. A sense of awe spread through us. We felt loved and whole.

I am saddened to read comments on Facebook this morning of disgruntled people who also saw the clouds but didn't see the beauty. There is a saying 'you can lead a horse to water but you can't make it drink' and I suppose this holds true now. You can look upwards and still not see the beauty.

The Winter Solstice also marks the beginning of Yule. Different people celebrate this in different ways. It is an ancient celebration that has, like so many other ancient ways, been melded into modern celebrations. From now until the 1st of January will be the 12 days of the Yule celebration, more commonly now known as the 12 days of Christmas.

Holiday songs fill my head right now. Particularly I have James Taylor singing 'Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas' playing in my head. I will share it with you.



Whatever you choose to celebrate, if you choose to celebrate, know that we are all connected. As we stood outside and breathed in the night air, we felt our breathes in sync with all of you.

Happy Yule Y'all.

A Glimpse of Insanity

I did a google search for 'insanity photos' and found this. I don't know what it is, but it is insane and it captures about how this morning is going. (PS - here is the link to it: http://www2.printshop.co.uk/Weebl/Shop/Plushies/Insanity_Prawn_Boy/Product.html - it is random enough for me to now have to spend an afternoon or an hour or so looking through later)

My point is, this has been a really odd morning. My last post was about the randomness of Tristan. Well, I gotta tell y'all .. the kid comes by it naturally. Here is my morning.

I wake up and just can't quite get going. Dragging, not focusing, feeling like I am in a dense fog. Coffee is calling me, though coffee does not like me. I think coffee has hidden agendas and secretly plots against me. Coffee is a double agent lurking in the pantry. The coffee has won this round as I brew up a pot.

As the caffeine begins to kick in my mind begins to really fly. I announce how windy it is and hope that a house doesn't fall on me. A friend replies that she hopes I am wearing red glitter shoes (my friend is not made up ... at least I'm pretty certain she isn't). I reply that I need red glitter mukluks, red glitter shoes, and a pair of shoes that curl up at the toe and have a little bell on them. And some luxurious Moroccan slippers. I imagine myself walking around the house in them. Actually, I might have hallucinated it. I feel like a Johnny Depp character on crack.

Now it is lunch time and I fix the boys their lunch. Because that is what you do at lunch, it would be silly to fix them anything else then. Both boys are dressed, and Tristan is wearing a shoe on one foot & a slipper on the other.
They are rattling on and on and on and on as kids are prone to do. Obviously I am prone to do this as well. It is half understandable and half not. Sometimes I think they're just speaking in grunts. Or that William Shatner has suddenly inhabited the body of my child and .... they ... start ... talking ... like ... this.

This conversation occurs:
Tristan ~ Mommy, do you actually cold snow?
Me ~ Do I actually cold snow?
Tristan ~ Yea. Do you actually cold snow?
Me ~ I really don't know...

Shannon then goes into a several minute long talk about what he does when he sees cold snow. I wonder if I've really had too much coffee &/or what was in my coffee. Is it possible to slip yourself something unknowingly?

Foster is now weaving around the table, pushing the chair around, licking the floor, and fitting BETWEEN the table and wall. This is impressive since all laws of physics and sciences would dictate that it is impossible for him to do so. I think I see the table try to walk out of the kitchen on his back.

Lunch is a mixture of random sentences, grunts, and feeling like everyone is speaking some weird language. The kids have gone goofy. Laughing at insanely random silliness (and this is a statement given the general insanity and randomness of the morning). I am now screaming at the kids to quit it & eat, because after several calmer attempts to get them to calm down and eat they are now saying nothing but just pointing at each other and I am still screaming for them to quit it and wondering what the hell am I on.
We have a bell on the back door that Foster is supposed to ring to let us know he needs to go out. He rings it far more often than that. He goes over to it and begins ringing it now. I think he just wanted to add to the general insane conversation.

So, I am still trying to get them to eat. Getting my kids to eat can be an amazingly long process, especially with Tristan. Out of nowhere, Tristan punches table then, in shock, looks at me crying because he hurt his fist. He wraps it up in his shirt and frowns.

Shannon is now done eating and wandering about. He lost his first tooth recently and has four more loose teeth. He asks me if I want to feel his loose teeth. I am reminded of last night's trip to Lowe's where we run into a friend (who also happens to be on City Council - so please kids act appropriate) and he asks her if she would like to wiggle his teeth.
Lesson repeated to Shannon: If people aren't related to you, don't ask them to stick their hands in your mouth.

I'm still trying to get Tristan to finish his food. He is chewing the same bite for five minutes. I swear I see the glint in his eye that says "this is on purpose you over controlling bitch!" All the while Shannon is now skipping through the house and humming some random tune, not a song, just a tune/noise. This, of course, happens after he says he is going to wait in the room for Tristan.

I have finally gotten the kids down for naps (or quiet time as the case may be for Shannon) and I think some bit of normality and sanity might be achievable. Then this conversation occurs:

Tristan, calling to me from his nap room ~ Mommy, I need you.
Me, heading in there ~ What?
Tristan ~ Bear's Bob Marley blanket has a big hole in it.
*said blanket is in on the floor in the middle of the room, I pick it up & examine the hole*
Me ~ How did it get a hole in it?
Tristan ~ Because I stuck my hands in there and then I put my head through it.
Me ~ *actually, I don't respond. I give him that 'you gotta be kidding me' look*
Tristan ~ That's why I need you to fix Bear's Bob Marley blanket. And I need Bear's smaller blanket with the little holes in it.

I don't let him have another blanket with more holes in it. I kiss him goodnight on his forehead. Somehow I get the feeling that I've also kissed all hopes of sanity for the day goodbye.

Unschooling Life

Unschooling takes you places. Wonderful places. This place happens to be Lane Stadium, located in Blacksburg, VA. We are die-hard Hokie fans and Lane Stadium is the Hokie's home field. This was the boys' first trip there. They didn't get to go inside, but wandering around outside a bit was just fine.



I had always intended to write a lot more about homecshooling and our journey on that path on this blog. After all, it is a big part of our lives, so how could I rightly leave it off? But a couple things happened.

First - when you tell people, or when they find out that you're homeschooling your kids

it's like you've just walked into a giant mine field. Things can quickly turn into a nearly literal war zone. You're bombarded with questions wanting (sometimes demanding) to know every detail of every aspect of their education. Whether it pertains to them in the current measure of time is irrelevant. What are you going to do about trigonometry??? What about this? What about that? HOW are you teaching them? What makes you think you're qualified to teach them?

I realize that often these are asked out of simple curiosity. If you tell someone you just managed to fly from tree-top to tree-top you're likely going to get asked why. But, as too many homeschoolers can & will attest to, too often these questions are asked too snidely. Condescending, judging, like vultures trying to pick you apart.

What makes it a war-zone is the attempt to stand one's ground and not put the other person's choices regarding their child's education down. It is very difficult to say why you think school is a bad idea for your child but perfectly ok for another child. MINE FIELD!! Add that you unschool and you get a double or triple mine field because even homeschoolers have been known to turn on each other.

Now you know why I've been silent. I just haven't wanted to deal with it, with the drama. But this is my blog and damnit, I'm going to talk about the things that are going on in my life, in OUR lives. And unschooling is a big part of that. So, here it goes. (And, fair warning, I usually don't delete comments but if you bring drama that I don't care for here .. I will delete your comment.)

Overall Unschool Lesson #1: It all begins with Sit/Stay

We happened to have gotten a new puppy this Summer (yes this relates, just hang in there) and so he went to puppy obedience class at the end of Summer/beginning of Fall. There is something we learned there that I haven't been able to shake out of my head, and I think this is a good thing. The instructor told us repeatedly "It all begins with the sit/stay command. If you can't get 'em to do the sit/stay you can't move on to anything else." And so, this has become a mantra for now. For schooling, for growing. For moving our lives into the child-centric model to the model where they orbit around us (parent-centric?).

Tristan & Pre-School:

This year Tristan has started pre-school. Unschooled pre-school, only measured with any sort of formal significance (that anyone from the "outside world" -- ha ha, that's a joke people) coming from the fact that he goes to Storytime at the library once a week. We're blessed in Salem to have such a wonderful public library.

One of the biggest goals of pre-school for Tristan though is learning to dress himself. He takes longer than most grown women who are trying to put on their faces and do their hair. He usually leaves his room, where he is supposed to be getting dressed, to come find me and talk to me at every .. single .. possible .. conceivable stage of undressing and dressing. This is usually followed by a scream/whine when Foster is "near him" and then the derailing to where he wants me to dress him. I've told in no uncertain terms that if he wants to go to kindergarten then he simply must learn to dress himself. Those are the rules. The Sit/Stay.

Shannon & 1st Grade:
Shannon is now in 1st grade. He goes to homeschool gym class at the YMCA and loves it, though I don't care for the instructors. I haven't taken him out yet though. I'm there while he's in class, so I'm .. well, there. And he loves it.
His reading is amazing, almost too good. Math hasn't clicked yet. We're still working on it, very gently showing him how things can add up. He can get it a little bit, but it hasn't clicked. We're not worried. I'd like to work with him on learning money, if only I can get myself organized and ahead of the game enough to get there.
What I've really been impressed with him about this year is his empathy and caring for others. When my uncle died in August we took the boys to the burial. Shannon was upset, but I think it was more because he saw everyone else upset and that bothered him. At Halloween he wanted to color pictures to pass out to all the trick-or-treaters (we wound up making special goodie bags for friends). Thanksgiving comes around and there he is with a stack of paper and a tote of crayons, drawing & coloring hand-turkeys for everyone .. writing their names on them and then folding them up just so, so that they had to be opened just the way he wanted them to be, and giving them away.

Then there are the rules and things they learn together. For instance, while Justin was putting in my dreadlocks Saturday evening we put the movie Elf in the dvd player. The boys saw the dinner scene where Buddy puts maple syrup on spaghetti and drinks an entire 2-liter of soda & then they saw the breakfast scene where he eats plain spaghetti noodles topped with marshmallows, m&m's, various syrups, pop-tarts, and likely more sugary stuff. Both boys commented (without our prompting!) that he wasn't eating very healthy!! I was proud.

They know where their food comes from because they go with me/us to pick it up from the farm. They see the baby piglets, then the larger pigs, then the pork. Shannon infamously welcomed Thanksgiving guests into our house a couple years back with the very enthusiastic greeting of "Come in! Would you like to see our dead turkey??" He then proceeded, during dinner no less, to explain how the turkey came to be dinner. How they killed it, how they processed it. Even though he hadn't actually been there he knew the steps.

Not all the things they learn together are related to food though. They've recently been allowed to start riding their bikes/scooters/tricycles down to the playground when we go. We live on a VERY, VERY busy street so this is a bigger deal than it may sound otherwise. They started having to ride near me, stay close to me. When they do that successfully I start to let them ride ahead a bit. Never out of sight, but a bit of freedom none the less.

And there are more things. Shannon has become rather responsible for pooper-scooping the backyard. No small task considering Foster is an English Mastiff. He wanted the responsibility, we have it to him.

We hung a coat rack on the back of one of the closet doors in the room. They're now responsible for hanging up their coats properly. There is also now a shoe rack with a shelf for each of them where their shoes are supposed to go. That one isn't going as smoothly as the coat rack, but they'll get the hang of it. And there are more things, so many more things, things I just can't think of right now.

And I know some of you will read this and think that it has absolutely nothing to do with their education and schooling. This is where I will, politely, disagree with you. Tristan is 4 years old and Shannon is almost 7. We're still in the Sit/Stay commands. From the number of grown "adults" (that word is used very loosely) who still live at home or who can't support themselves properly, I'd say that a lot of kids could've benefited from some more Sit/Stay lessons.

But this is our life. I am proud of it. I am proud of my boys. So far, this unschooling journey is a good one.

The Tooth Came Out

The tooth came out last Tuesday night. He had fiddled with it and fiddled with it, and after he was already down for bed is when it came completely loose. I gave it the tiniest of yanks and out it popped. We put it in the Tooth Fairy pillow (picture still not here, I know).

Wednesday morning he woke up to find that the Tooth Fairy had left him 3 quarters, 2 dimes, and 1 nickel .. which equals "a WHOLE dollar!!"

The front tooth beside the missing one is very loose as well. And now so are the top two front teeth. In a couple months he should look real cute for photos!

The First Tooth

Our world is changing. Shannon has his first loose tooth.



Most of his friends have already lost several. Apparently girls loose teeth earlier than boys and most of the kids he knows who are his age are girls. I have been informed just this afternoon that the little girl who lives next door has already lost FIVE teeth. ~ much emphasis on that five.

So when we were at the dentist back in September and it was announced that he had a tooth starting to loosen, Shannon's world exploded. His eyes were as wide as saucers and his open-mouth smile took over his entire face. Since then it has been non-stop checking of the tooth. How loose is it? See how it can be wiggled? It's LOOSE!!

Apparently he is going to quite gummy soon, as he is now claiming that he has, at the very minimum, four loose teeth. They seem to magically loosen overnight. It has been confirmed that the two front bottom teeth are indeed loose, but he swears there are more.

Today he showed me just how loose that first tooth was. And it is. In fact, it was just the slightest bit bloody around the gum line on one side. Swished with warm salt water, and we're good to go. Apparently we're good to go straight to the mirror ....

One must check the status of one's loose teeth at every possible moment. These photos were taken before he even was out of his pajamas this morning.


Can you tell he's pretty happy about it??

Everyone has asked him if he wants them to tie a string around it and yank it out. Justin suggested to him this morning that we tie one end to the tooth and one to Foster. I think this has overwhelmed him a little (not just that last one!). He announced to me at lunch that it will come out on it's own when it's ready to.

In the meantime I've gotten out a pillow that my mother made for me when I was his age and starting to loose teeth. Hand embroidered with a Tooth Fairy rhyme and my name. It is green with little flowers (this was the very early 80's), a ruffly green edge along with a lace like trim. I asked Shannon if he would like me to change the fabric. I thought I might add Shannon & Tristan's names to the pillow under my own as well. He thought about it for a second and said that he would like me to change the fabric. I asked him what type he would like. He replied "Something more green." ....... "Um, Shannon, the pillow IS green." .... "Oh, ok, I like it then." -- boys.

And, of course, since I am MOM and this is my oldest, I am weepy over the first loose tooth. All who know me are not shocked as I am weepy over everything. I am weepy as I type this and I think about holding that tooth when it comes out. How long it took for him to get that tooth. How he looked before he had teeth. How my baby isn't a baby anymore. --- Ok, I must stop and wipe away these tears.

I will let you all know when the big moment happens. With photos for me to cry over.

The boys & Foster

Foster, our English Mastiff, turned 6 months old today. He's 28" tall (up 2" from less than a week ago) at the shoulder and now weighs roughly 100lbs. That's more than both our boys put together! Needless to say, the kids and the pup don't always see eye to eye .... though as big as he is, they almost literally do.

For those who are unaware, English Mastiffs slobber. They have big floppy jowls (I actually, accidentally, stepped on Foster's today!) that hold food, water, and drool long after they've left the dish behind.

This isn't Foster, it is his father Samson. Look close at the mouth. In all fairness, Samson had just finished off a pig's ear and was extra slobbery. They usually aren't that bad. But they DO drool & slobber.

Shannon HATES the slobbering and drool!! I really can't emphasize enough how much he hates it. If he gets any slobber on him he throws a fit about needing to change his clothing. So, this evening we're sitting in the kitchen and Shannon spots a wet spot on the floor. ~ Cue the ominous music ~

The truth of the matter is that it was from where Foster had been chewing on a piece of ice, dropped it, and then went back to trying to get it.

Shannon begins screaming about their being a puddle of pee on the floor. I tell him it isn't pee, but just .. well, what I said above. He then starts screaming about it being slobber and on & on about how much he hates slobber. So I ask him "Well which do you hate more, slobber or pee?"
"Slobber" he replies. "Well then, that's pee on the floor" I say.

With that, the kid hops down and announces with great significance "I have to clean up that pee!" He then continued on saying "I am ALWAYS prepared to take care of pee!" And he got out the vinegar & water, a clean cloth, and cleaned up the alleged pee. All the while he starts muttering and complaining "THIS DOG is making me mad!" because every time he would clean up one spot, there'd be another spot since Foster was following him around with great curiousity and nosing the floor behind him. Absolutely hysterical to Justin & I, absolutely maddening to poor Shannon, and absolutely interesting to Foster.

And then, there is this. Foster tends to think the kids are puppies and his litter-mates. If the kids hop up on the bed you can guarantee that Foster will soon appear at the bed as well, expecting to be let up. If the kids play trains, Foster follows them around, nosing at the trains and sitting on the tracks. Every time Foster sits on the tracks Shannon has begun saying "Foster, get your tush off the tracks!" ~~ It's rather cute.

Tristan on the other hand doesn't so often find Foster cute. Foster is still 6 months old, which means he plays like a puppy. And Tristan is only 4, which means he can get knocked around by Foster's leaning against him or his tail knocking into him. Tristan is NOT happy about this.

But he does love him. He hugs on him and pets him. Foster walks with me when I get the boys down for their naps, often trying to stay in there with them. They both give him a hug and kiss goodnight.

And, with one being 6 months old, one being 4 years old, and the final one being 6 1/2 years old, this is how our household runs. At least between the three of them.

Back to Unschool

Today everywhere I turn I see cute little images of children standing out on front walks and sidewalks, waiting for the bus. While some kids have already been back to school for a week or more, school starts today in Salem.

But, of course, not here.

Our morning started off quite usual and ordinary. The kids got up before I did and were allowed to play quietly in the front room. By the time I have stumbled groggily in here this morning, I see a floor covered in cars, trains, roads, and train tracks. As I sip my warm mug of tea and type this, Shannon is busy picking most of it up, loading it all into a re-purposed box, and taking them all into their bedroom.
Ah .. their bedroom. Bunk beds with tie-dye sheets in their colors of choice. This is now a tent, with blankets hung from one level to the next. Apparently the stuffed animals are having a to-do with the cars and trains and tracks and roads. I'm not quite sure what he meant by all that, but he meant something and their world is alive right now.
Their animals all have names, though Shannon's mostly have descriptive names. For example: Shannon's stuffed brown bear is named "Brown Bear"; the stuffed black lab we got him from Chateau Morrisette is called "Puppy"; there is a lion called .. you guessed it "Lion". Tristan's animals have more familial names. His favorite stuffed animal, a bear wearing a rabbit suit, is called "Beer" ~ not because beer is such a big part of our world, but out of simply mispronunciation. His larger brown bear is called "Beer's Mommy", and the soft bear's head that rattles in the center of a little blanket (handkerchief size) is "Beer's Baby" or "Baby".

Yesterday I downloaded Google Earth onto the computer. We looked at our house (and put a pin on it, like marking it as a favorite), we looked at all the grandparent's houses. We looked at where Shannon's penpal lives. Since she lives in Jerusalem we couldn't zoom in and actually see her house, but we could see what the area looks like. Then we went and looked at the deserts and pyramids in Egypt. It was fascinating to watch the Earth spin around and begin zooming into a location. I can remember spinning around globes, pinpointing an area and trying to imagine what that area looked like close up ... so to see it now is simply amazing. It is magic.

And now the boys are setting up a bowling set in the Sunroom. Surrounded by plants, sunlight, books on their new bookcase, cleaning up toys off the floor to make way for their bowling pins. Learning to share .. ok, that's my positive way of saying they're now fighting ... figuring out how to take turns, and that you have to "share" your bowling pins so that the whole set can be set up.

Other unschooly activities?? Playing in the sandbox outside, building mountains out of sand and covering them with morning glory blooms. "Paper Cutting" (as Shannon calls it), which he is surprisingly good at. He cuts spirals out .. I am very impressed. Learning letters with Tristan (who tries to convince me that he doesn't already know them). Each of them building their own wooden toolbox with Daddy's help. Picking out a book to read from the ever-growing stack (thanks Sarah!) on their bookcase. Playing some learning games on the computer (http://www.pbskids.org/ & http://www.uptoten.com/ are current favorites).

Welcome Fall. As school buses go rumbling by our house in the morning, we mill about in our pjs, starting the day as we please or as the day calls for it. And we couldn't be happier.

From Grandma's House

The boys spent the night at Grandma's house this past Saturday night. It's always interesting to here the stories from the nights they spend there. I thought I'd share one of the latest ones with y'all. We're so proud.

The Scene: The outside patio at Grandma's house. Shannon, Tristan, & Grandma are hanging out. Grandma has a fast-food cheeseburger out there.

Grandma: Are y'all ready to go inside?

Shannon: Yea, cuz you're cheeseburger smells like ass.

Grandma: Shannon! Where'd you learn that?!?

Shannon: I didn't say it. My eye did.

Grandma: Ok, where'd your eye learn that?

Shannon: My other eye.

Grandma: Where'd THAT eye learn it from?

Shannon: Tristan.


... You gotta admit it, that kid is gonna have some really interesting excuses as he grows up!

Optimism in the heat of Summer

This blog is dedicated to some optimistic friends, without whom I would cuss a lot more: Sadie (http://www.allnaturalme.com/), Cat, and Ryanne.

You've heard of 'Love in the time of Cholera', well this is kinda like that. But harder. I think. I haven't actually read all of the book. And I can't convince Justin to watch the movie. But it feels harder, so it is .. at least in my mind.
Like I noted in my last blog, Summer & I don't get along. So, it is especially difficult for me to be optimistic when I am sweating my ass off. --- Actually, I wish it were that easy. All this sweating and my ass ain't shrunk a bit!

But how can I possibly be optimistic with everything that is going on???

Well.....

*The clutter is SHEER LIVING HELL to be sure - actually, it isn't sheer, I can't see through it, I can't see a damn thing!! I can't turn around in this house without bumping into something. I can't find anything. I broke down into near tears because I couldn't find a saucepan, only to discover it was in the oven, which I thought I had looked in the other day -- apparently I either didn't look far enough into it or the gas fumes from me trying to put myself out of my suffering have fucked with my memory.
~But on the Bright Side ~ I am so fed up with the clutter this may well cure me of my cluttering ways. I am a clutter bug. And if it doesn't fully cure me it may well semi-cure me. Or maybe just cure me long enough to give the house a thorough organizing. Either way, it'll likely have a positive effect.

*After having lost the saucepan, and feeling like/knowing the house is a wreck, I have to admit to feeling like a complete failure as a housewife. Like I should be branded in the middle of town square and made to wear a scarlet letter 'F' or 'H' -- what fucking letter would you wear for that one??? Anyway.
~But on the Bright Side ~ Justin called me from Kroger's today. He couldn't find the aspirin. He said all they had was low dose. I assured him they had aspirin. Told him to look for something called "Buffrin" and that it was likely in a blue box. Then to look next to it for the generic stuff. He found it. Yes, I know I've gone through there a million times, unable to find something that I KNOW should be there, but explaining it to him made me feel better. Kinda like the time I had to walk him through how to use the Kitchen Aid mixer. Hopeless husbands make housewives feel accomplished. It's scientifically proven.

*The renovation is dragging on and on and on. I'm breaking out due to stress. The house is a wreck. I can't find anything. The kitchen is barely usable.
~But on the Bright Side ~ I can blame all the zits & break-outs, the insane clutter and mess of the house, all my stress, and my inability to have dinner ready on time on David Harmon .. aka the Magically Disappearing Contractor. And no-one argues with me. They pat me on the shoulder and offer sympathy & understanding.

*Foster, who turns 3 months old tomorrow & is almost as tall as our full-grown lab, and likely weighs close to 40lbs has out-grown his sleep-all-the-time puppy stage. He's now somewhere between the Toddler - 3 year old stage. He gets into EVERYTHING!! He brings plants in from outside. He has figured out how to unzip their eco-friendly dog beds, rip open the inside, and likes to chew on the "made from recycled plastic bottles" stuffing. -- Do I need to worry about BPA when he swallows that stuff??
~But on the Bright Side ~ His voice is beginning to deepen. If you've never heard a dog's voice start to drop, it is REALLY funny. Not as funny as the video clip of my little brother shrieking "STOP IT CARRIE!!" in a cracking voice, but still pretty damn funny. He also chases his tail, 'round and 'round and 'round. He trips. He slips and falls. He manages to sleep curled up around the toilet. He drools. He barks for food, sometimes just looking at the spot where is dish belongs and barking until we obey his commands. And, speaking of commands, he is learning them very well. And, he took his first full walk to the Farmer's Market today .. a little over a block away. Until now we've been having to drive there, get out and walk him around the market, and drive home. (English Mastiff pups aren't supposed to be walked very far when they're young because their bones & joints are growing so fast that, if they are exercised too much, you can damage them!) And, to top it off, he's still adorable as all get-out, so it makes up for him getting into everything.

*With everything else going on, the kids can quickly drive me up the wall. And I drive them up the wall. And they drive each other up the wall. My walls are full of tracks going up!!!
~But on the Bright Side ~ They love Tom Waitts song 'Big in Japan'.

They call it the "Silly Man Music" and will tend to, very randomly start singing it. Tristan originally would go through Kroger singing "Hey, but I'm Big in Your Pants" very loudly. It took a while to convince him it was "Japan" and not "in your pants". Misheard lyrics are twice as funny as the real ones.
Also, Shannon's learning to read has provided moments of peeing-in-pants laughter.

Shannon was reading this cup, from Outer Banks Brewery in NC, out loud. "Brewing, Cussing, Music." No, no Shannon, it's pronounced "Quiz-een" not "cussing." --- One day, when we open our brewery, I'm going to make that into a shirt - Brewing, Cussing, Music.

Here's to Optimism. And brewing, cussing, and music.

My boys

Some days you're just really proud to be a parent. Too many days are filled with anxiety, most of it self-induced. Fears that you're not doing whatever you ought to be doing to ensure that your child/children will be all that you hope for them.
So, indulge me if you will in this moment of bragging. Here are some recent things that have made me sigh with relief and know that life is good.

*This was Shannon's first official year of homeschool, and boy did we take the unschooling route. Some days he did lessons out of workbooks, but mostly he did his own thing. And how did that go??


1) He can read surprisingly well (no more sneaking stuff past him with ease). Without any days spent studying in a classroom, without any memorization, the bugger can read. He's also doing pretty darn good when it comes to spelling and writing.
2) He's learning bits of both Spanish & Russian. Spanish from PBS shows and all other media that is shoving Spanish down our throats. Russian because I'm sick of having Spanish shoved down our throats. Neither he or Tristan say the following words in English: Please, Thank You, You're Welcome, or Excuse Me.
3) He's learning responsibility. He now feeds & gives water to the rabbit. He walks Foster on a leash when he needs to go out. We've bought him some eco-friendly cleaning cloths so he can clean the windows as he sees fit. He dust-busts.



There are just those moments when you're really proud with the way your kids are turning out. Like, when we were at the beach and Shannon was playing with another kid in the sand. Shannon's "check this out" moment was showing the other kid 'Tree Pose' in yoga.

Or, when people ask them who their favorite cartoon character is and rattle off several currently popular ones, my kids stare back at them with a blank expression. They have no clue who most of those characters are. The cartoons they watch are older than I am. (Though they do get to see a few movies on DVD here and there)

Or, when one of them gets all bent out of shape because a light got left on and electricity is being wasted. Or they check the bottoms of plastic containers to see if they can be recycled. AND they both demand to go to the recycling center & help toss stuff in the bins!!!

They're both learning to swim without any real formal teaching. We may enroll Shannon in a class at the Y, but we may not. I haven't decided yet. Tristan is finally willing (though not every time) to put his head under water, that's a huge step for him.



They're both kind to other kids. They don't mock them, they don't make fun. They don't try to exclude anyone (except maybe each other). They think their friends can and are people of any age. They are just as comfortable talking to adults as they are kids.



They are open and honest. Shannon will bust your balls in two seconds with his honesty. I've come to admire that, though we're also having to teach him to not always do so. Like at the restaurant when the food is taking too long.


Also, in a stroke of semi-geniusness, I've gotten them trained to an alarm. I set two during the day. One goes off at 10:45 am and it means it is time to clean up toys for lunch (yea, they eat an early lunch). The other is for 5:21 pm. Justin gets home between 5:21 & 5:30. That alarm means Daddy is about home & it is time to clean up for dinner.

When they here the alarm they both know to immediately stop what they're doing and begin cleaning up. AND THEY DO!! Even when we were at the beach! Actually, even when we were in the car they knew what it meant and didn't question it. They just pointed out that their toys were already packed away, so the work was already done!



These are my boys. And I couldn't be more in love with them or more proud of them.

Going Barefoot

Tom's Shoes has asked people to go barefoot today, April 8th, so that we can experience the difference shoes can make in a child's life. For more info, check it out here: http://www.onedaywithoutshoes.com/

So, we're doing our part. The boys and I took a walk this morning down to the Farmer's Market. We were looking for "the honey man" as we go through honey like crazy, and now that allergies are upon us we need it more than ever! Sadly, he wasn't there today. Fear not, he'll be there this weekend. The walk was not a waste though (is a walk ever a waste?).

This used to be Miss Zini's house. Now her grandson lives there. I love the rocks (sorry for crappy photo quality, I used the cell phone) and the way he's made little cairns, or rock sculptures. The boys thought it was pretty neat too.


Salem's City Hall. Always stately and beautiful, in every season. We had been noticing & identifying all the different flowers that were blooming as our walk progressed, and so, we had to stop and admire all the red tulips in front of City Hall.

What else did we learn on our walk?

~Always watch out for broken glass, it's a bad, bad thing. - We saw broken glass but luckily didn't have trouble avoiding it.

~Pesticides Suck. - We talked about how putting a lot of chemicals on the ground was "yucky." The boys decided that the idea of walking barefoot on a ground doused in chemicals wasn't too appealing, and announced their pleasure in our yard being free of them. We talked about how if we don't want to walk on them, imagine the animals that have to live in the ground or who get their food from the ground (like our chickens). Yuck.

~Asphalt is HOT! - Luckily our walk was early in the morning before the asphalt really got hot. Mama knew well enough to time that one on purpose. But, we were able to notice a very significant change in temperature between grass, concrete sidewalks, old & gray asphalt roads, and freshly paved asphalt parking lots. We talked about the impact it had on the world around us.

~There are people who have it a LOT worse than we do, so we should be grateful for what we've got! - This was the main lesson when we started our walk. To be grateful for the things we have. To help the kids realize why it is good to donate things we don't have use for anymore (or that we've outgrown, etc) to people who could use them or need them. To remember that, despite how we might feel from time to time, we've got a pretty darn cushy life. Not all people are so lucky.

My apologies if any of the above lessons seem overly simplistic and obvious to you who might be reading this. Please remember that Shannon is 6 and Tristan is 3, so lessons learned have to be on a level that they can learn them.

Mornings

Some mornings just slap you across the face, as soon as you wake up. That's my best photo of getting slapped in the face right now. I took it yesterday and call it "Justin getting Shadow Bitch-Slapped." I shouldn't have tempted karma like that.

Normally in the mornings the kids come and watch some Tom & Jerry cartoons on my bed, which gives me about 1/2 an hour to wake up some. I just really, REALLY need that time. This morning Shannon woke me up. He was already dressed and they wanted to go ahead and eat breakfast and watch Tom & Jerry in the kitchen. (I let them eat their cereal and watch cartoons. It allows me to usually get a shower without wondering what they're up to.) OK.
I get up, throw some pjs on, help Tristan get dressed and fix them their cereal. Then I fix the dogs their food.
I go back to my bedroom and do my morning sit-ups (look at that, I'm making a freakin' effort!) and start getting ready to take my shower. Shannon comes in the bedroom and asks "Mommy, can I go outside and play in the sandbox?" --- I'm standing there with no pants on (sorry for the visual image) and look at him dumbfounded. I tell him that I haven't even had my shower yet and no.
I go to take my shower. While I'm in there he comes in and asks if he can go play in the sandbox. "NO, I'm in the shower!!"
I turn off the water. Again he appears, asking if he can go play in the sandbox. I was still standing in the shower! "NO!!!!"
I inform him that he may NOT go play in the sandbox until after I've had my shower and am dressed and to NOT ask me ANYMORE, that I will tell him when he can. I head back to my bedroom to get dressed, shutting the bedroom door behind me.

I am dressed now (you're welcome), and I open the door. Shannon informs me that Tristan ate a dead worm off the sunroom floor. *LONG SIGH*
Yesterday, when I got him up from his nap, Tristan had this to say to me: Mommy, I have to tell you something. I am sorry I ate so much crunchy ants. And I'm sorry I ate so much crunchy sand. I'm sorry for both of those. ----- Note, I wasn't aware of either (though am not shocked either) nor was he being punished, this was out-of-the-blue.
Apparently this morning he's eating worms. They haven't been fried and more than likely the worm was a centipede of some sorts. I tell him not to do that, eating dead things off the floor can make you sick, and I contemplate what type of drink is going to restore my morning.

Since then I've gone out to hang laundry on the line, we've had a bathroom "issue" and near disaster, and Shannon has yet to stop talking.

I would think Karma has gotten me back for that photo of Justin.

Boys Will Be Boys .. ??

One of the things as parents that we decided very early on, was that we weren't going to limit our children based on their gender. This turned out to be a good thing, especially since Shannon is more commonly known as a girl's name around here. I've had people correct me when I talked about my son saying "you mean daughter" .. no, I mean son, I do believe I know which one I gave birth to. For his first birthday we had gotten a gift certificate from a local company that would provide everything: cake, streamers, gift bags, balloons, etc. We met with her, she met Shannon, the invitation (an underwater theme) was in blue, we made it clear Shannon was a boy. Day of the party comes and we get pink & purple decorations, and a 1st Birthday balloon that has a little girl on it. Oh well, we put them up, laughed about it, and announced that there was nothing wrong with a boy in pink. Fast forward to when we had Tristan ~ I'm still in the hospital and we've joked that, at least this time, people ought to assume we had a boy. Tristan in the hospital sported tie-dyed newborn clothing and a mohawk (no joke). He was STILL called a girl because of his name. Oh well.

This past Monday, as we were running errands in the rain, Tristan started announcing that he didn't want to get his dress wet. At first I didn't pay much attention to this, after all I was trying to get from car to building & back again with two kids .. in the rain. But he kept repeating it. Finally I paid some attention and realized what he was talking about. He had taken to calling the pants he was wearing his "dress." I laughed about it and we giggled about him getting his dress wet. As he splashed in puddles I, laughingly, hollered "Get over here mister, you're getting your dress all wet!!" The three of us got a good laugh out of this. The lady who happened to be crossing the parking lot turned her head towards us, rather quizzically, several times.

Today Shannon asked if he could play dress up. I wasn't so surprised by what he was wearing: an old pair of my mother's high heels. They had been among the things left here when she moved and the boys have used them for dress up (they have other stuff too) since then. What happened next made me laugh though.

~Shannon playing dress-up. I've read lately that nothing is more stylish than a dark top paired with long dark jeans and a pair of heels. Doesn't it say something when my 6 year old son is more stylishly hip than me?~

Shannon hollered for me. There was a spider cricket. Eww. This is the one insect that gets us all going "ew" over. These little bastards jump AT you. Ew.

Shannon: MOMMY, there's a spider cricket!!
Me: So squish it!
Shannon: What?? You mean with my good dress-up shoes?!?!?!

I am now rolling in laughter realizing that my son just squealed and didn't want to squish a bug because he is wearing heels. His good ones too apparently.
I go out to get it myself, since I am sporting only Birks, not heels. The bastard bug has gone under the wardrobe. I am not going under there after it. I inform Shannon I'll get it if it comes back out. Apparently I needn't bother.
A minute or two later I hear a 'whack' and Shannon announcing that he killed the spider cricket.

Me: Good! What shoe did you use?
Shannon: Oh, I used the flathead screw on my shoe.

---- ummm, excuse me???

~Shannon showing off the flathead screws on the bottoms of his dress-up shoes~

I've known gals to use the heel of their heels as hammers when need be. But leave it to a 6 year old boy to determine that the pointy heel of a high heel is REALLY a "flathead screw." Good for killing spider crickets.

Ya learn something new everyday.

Survival of the

There is a reason Monday is called Monday. That's a stupid sentence and the reason they call it Monday really has nothing to do with how awful the day can be. But still, there's a friggin' reason folks.
A while back, shortly after Tristan was born if I can remember at all (perhaps while I was still preggers), it dawned on me that some days were days that I was able to get stuff done. I could clean the house, do the laundry, bake the bread, and so on. I could be SuperMom.
And then there were the other days.
Those days were just "Survival Days." (And, for the record, I am not a fan of the tv show Survivor, never have been, never will be) If you're a stay at home mom, and especially if you're a homeschooler, you know what I'm talking about. Some days are just "Survival Days" and, during bad times, they can turn into "Survival Weeks" (awful vacations with relatives?), and so on.
Today has started off as a "Survival Day" so join with me as I count the ways:

Survival of the Homesteader & Homeschooler: This one gets lumped into two categories. Our hatching eggs did not hatch. Today ought to have been the magic day. We had pretty much given up hope since the gals had seemed to decide surrogacy wasn't for them.
We had gone the route of getting some eggs to hatch because if Mother Nature told the gals to go broody and sit on eggs we felt they deserved a chance to see that through. It also was a good homeschooling lesson about the cycle of life, animal behavior, and so on. Instead we watched as, one by one, 4 of the eggs were broken. Today I took the remaining two out of the nest box. The lesson we must learn from this is that while a hen may go broody that doesn't mean she wants to be a mama and that's ok too.

Survival of the Kitchen: This one comes in two parts. Right now one of those parts is a fart because Jomo the Wonder Gas Dog is laying near by blowing noxious fumes my way. Ironically, their awful stench takes away the next part.
~The Eggs~ The eggs I took out of the nest box I decided I would just cook up for the dogs for breakfast, knowing they were likely too old for us. I cracked them open into my cast-iron skillet and watched as broken yolk blended with the white and turned almost brown poured out. Then the smell began to hit. Not as bad as the usual "rotten egg" smell, but I do believe this was perhaps the TRUE rotten egg smell, not one I've been trained to know via faux scented chemicals. -- Lesson learned, don't do that again. Wash the skillet and get the shells to the compost NOW!
~The Bread~ Ok, this one happened last Wednesday but it was total Murphy's Law and I'm currently baking my first loaf of bread since then, so I thought I would share.
THE APPRAISER (doesn't he deserve all caps?) came out last Wednesday morning. 10am. I was so nervous I actually woke up and took a valium. I also decided, since we needed bread anyway, that I would bake a loaf of bread so that the aroma would entice him to appraise our house at 1 million dollars. ... Ok, maybe just at more than it appraised for when we bought it. My timing was perfect, the bread would come out of the oven while he was here.
He's climbing up into the attic when I hear a rustling in the kitchen. I turn around to see it filled with smoke, Justin holding the 1/2 burnt, 1/2 raw loaf of bread and exclaiming "who turned the oven up to 500 degrees?!?" ............ ok ...........
The chickens got the bread, the appraiser got a laugh (said it smelled like his wife's cooking), and I learned a lesson - THAT is why people use those fake scented Glade candles.
(For the record, I DID have a pot of vanilla, cinnamon, and cloves simmering on the stove top .. I just think the burnt bread aroma overwhelmed it)

Survival of lettuce: We broke down and picked up a few plants at Lowe's this weekend. Two Romaine lettuce plants, one 6-pack of Red Leaf lettuce, and two leek plants. Naturally, the temperatures have dropped from low 70's to upper 30's-mid 40's and rainy. The Romaine & the leeks seem to be doing fine. The Red Leaf isn't happy. Picky damn Red Leaf lettuce.

Survival of my ankle: I can't remember if I told you, but a little over a week ago I went to bed fine and woke up with a badly bruised ankle. I have no clue how it happened. No injury from earlier that came out as I slept. I was 100% sober when I went to bed. Just a mystery.
Anyway, the way to heal an injured ankle is, apparently, NOT climbing up on ladders, crouching in catcher position, and doing all the things I did while we tried to finish fixing up the house some. Ankle is still bothering me over a week later. Yesterday we went and picked up some Arnica pills and some more Arnica gel. I am contemplating a splint. Fun stuff.

Survival of the humans: Ok, maybe not the human race, but at least the humans who live in this house.
I wake up this morning to yelling. The boys have already lost the privilege of going to play with our other homeschooling friends this afternoon. -- Seriously, that is what I WOKE UP TO.
The boys were apparently up very early this morning and have been fighting non-stop. Justin gets up earlier than I do since he has to go to work. When I asked him what was going on he informed me how early they had gotten up and also how many times he had already gone in their room because they were fighting. He then kissed me goodbye and left for work.
I threw my head back onto the pillow, groaned, then rolled on out of bed (literally) and announced to no-one that this would be a long day.
Since the time breakfast was over and now the boys have already managed to get sent to their room for fighting -earning them the time-out and their first 'X' of the day. Three 'X's and they go to bed a 1/2 hour early.

And now you know why today is a "Survival Day." For the record, we also have the guy coming out to fix the washing machine. The maker of the machine is paying for the part, we're paying for the service, and the company fixing it is paying for the parts that the guy broke when he was here to examine it.
We're also signing our very last document before closing today. Numbers changed and so we had to resign the form, or sign the new form, whatever. We're not closing today, that day is scheduled for April 5th but there is a chance we might be able to close before then.
I've talked to the contractor and he's planning on coming back out possibly tomorrow evening. A friend (Hi Carole!!) gave us some tile and we're now looking at possibly putting tile in the tiny 1/2 bath off of our bedroom. We also need to discuss all the fun details: when can he start, how long will it take, how much money down as a deposit, and so on.

Now I'm going to drink my warm tea, keep an eye on the oven since the bread is in it, and get back to my chores. The boys are playing on our insanely out of tune piano, banging out their rendition of 'Twinkle Twinkle Little Star' .. which vaguely resembles banging the keys from one end of the piano to the other and back again.
In the time of trying to type that Shannon has been sent to his room yet again. And Tristan is now in here asking for lunch .. as they have both been doing since 9am.

Yup ... it's a "Survival Day."


*** FOLLOW-UP NOTE: 1) It took me three tries to type the word 'note' correctly just now. 2) Apparently I am on a Bad-Bread-Bender. Loaf last week ruined because the oven mysteriously got cranked up to 500 degrees. Loaf today ruined because I forgot to add yeast. .... hope the chickens are hungry ...