How We Manage Homeschooling in the Can

A friend of mine has asked me to answer some questions about homeschooling - she might share the answers with some attachment-parenting friends. 

First of all, let me just say that when I was considering homeschooling, listening to other parents answer homeschooling questions usually only served to increase my misgivings about the whole thing.  There were very few people out there doing the homeschooling lecture circuit who I could identify with AT ALL.  In fact, a good many of them scared the crap out of me. 

For the most part, they set up what were, for me, very unrealistic expectations.  I don't run my household like a well-oiled machine. We float along in what might be called an incredibly leaky ship. It was unlikely I would be able to set up a "school room" and a "school schedule" and initiate any kind of "discipline"....self or otherwise.  I wasn't going to sew uniforms (long skirts for the girls, tailored shirts for the boys) or bake my own bread.  Well, you probably get my point. 

I also wasn't homeschooling to protect my children from secular society, nor did I hold a very limited worldview that I wished to impose.  I wasn't on a mission for Christ nor did I feel that homeschooling would serve to increase the odds that my family would all be in one place should the Rapture occur. While my reasons for homeschooling have evolved (and continue to evolve) over the years, initially, it was simply a reaction to an unacceptable situation.  My learning disabled son was having a wretched time in school.  I needed to get him out, and so I did.  It had reached the point where it didn't matter what I did, his situation could only improve.

It turned out to be a perfect fit for our family - and we have continued to homeschool all 5 of our children. 

Some people want to know about homeschooling gifted children, or children with special needs, or multiple children at once, or teenagers......and so I guess I am the One Stop Shopping Site. Although I don't presume for one minute that my experiences will necessarily be relevant or meaningful or helpful in any way to anyone - one thing about homeschooling....no matter how you begin the journey, it ends up being a very personalized trip in the end.  No two families do it the same way - at least not for the long haul, anyway.  You can force yourself to do anything for a year or two, and that is what a lot of people do in regards to homeschooling.  But if you're going to stick it out, it becomes a lifestyle that is as natural as getting dressed in the morning (if, in fact, you do get dressed in the morning and I've learned that not everyone does). 

So, I have homeschooled what might be described as an incredibly gifted child.  I am homeschooling what would be described as a learning disabled child.  I also have an Asperger's child, a pretty Run of the Mill Child (because I deserved one), and a Quirky As Hell Child whose multiple issues are still in the percolating process.....very exciting.  And homeschooling works for all of them, but it is homeschooling done Our Way, which might not be Your Way. Your Way might be a perfect fit between your own natural leanings and the way your kids operate, or it might not be.  The fact is, no matter what people tell you, it doesn't work for everyone because some people are just not comfortable with it.  You won't really know if you're one of those people until you try it.

I am currently homeschooling an 18-year-old who will be starting college in the fall.  So YES I have experience educating and preparing a child for college.  I'm also homeschooling a 1st-grader.  And there are the three in between....and they are all very different from each other, as are their educational journeys.

Now for the Questions:

1. How do you change hats as Mom/Teacher and how does this work with your kids (if that is clear at all.)?

Ummm...well, I try not to wear hats around my kids.  I just am what I am.  I have heard of a family where the mom "becomes Teacher" and the children are required to treat her as they would a school teacher when it is School Time.  That kind of creeps me out a bit, to tell you the truth.  But I guarantee you that if I were to get to know this family - that would probably be the least of the creepout factors.  Anyone who is going to don a school marm outfit and have her children call her Teacher is also sure to break out the baby whip on occasion.  Just sayin'.

We don't have School Time or Time for Learning any more than we have a Time to Be Human or a Time to Love or a Breathing Time.  Learning is a natural human condition, you can't avoid it, and you can probably see where this is headed as we tend to lean towards Unschooling.  The older kids do structured learning because they want or need to, and it doesn't involve me putting on a hat or them treating me any differently.  The younger kids do very little structured learning, so they are unaware of my role as teacher, for the most part.  And I'm not talking about babies - Jasper is technically a 1st-grader and has recently expressed an interest in reading - so we're working on that when it suits us.  Camille is a 3rd-grader, and she is doing math and she reads a lot.  She doesn't HAVE to do the math, but I think she senses that it makes me happy when she does, so for a few minutes a couple of times a week, we get out her book and do some problems.  She's currently learning to tell time and she's actually pretty thrilled about that.  But I don't switch hats to do math with her, anymore than I switch hats when I'm making lunch or doing clothes or driving the car....it is just another thing we do.

2. How do you homeschool your older kids with babies/toddlers underfoot?

My older kids are pretty much in charge of their own educations.  But still, there were always times (and still are) when they needed my assistance or help or attention and the little kids were just being Major Inconveniences.  You just juggle it like you juggle anything else.  Women are good at multi-tasking and prioritizing, for the most part.   

I think that the more structure you are trying to impose, the more difficult and frustrating your task in regards to babies and little ones.  If you go with the flow, and are able to take a more relaxed approach, trusting that the world will not come to an end if a youngster doesn't do A, B, or C on a certain day or within a specific time frame...your time will be easier.  Seriously, if you take 6 weeks to just be All Schoolish....and you set aside 6 weeks for your alternate selves in the alternate universe to basically just sleep in....I hate to tell you that you're going to end up in about the same place, educationally speaking.  OK - sure, maybe at the end of six weeks one kid will know how to say the word "photosynthesis" and their alternate self won't have a clue as to how to say "photosynthesis." But 10 years down the road?  They're both going to get into college. And one of them will be significantly less traumatized than the other :).

3. What books did you read to help prepare you?

I read a bunch of books I shouldn't have.  Books that tell you what to do and how to do it are to be avoided, I think.  Books that talk about the way human beings learn, the history of compulsory attendance, the workings of the public school system, how people used to learn versus how we learn today.....books about successful people who were self-educated....those are the sorts of topics that are relevant to your decision.  There are lots of books out there about what's wrong with schools (I have my own opinions about this)...eventually you just have to decide to try and do what's right for your own family.  Seriously, I'm not a big believer in Expert Opinions so....

4. Do you combine any subjects for kids of different ages? If so, how well does this work?

Basically, if you're going to follow a curriculum, it is the same dang thing year after year after year and quite easy to combine it all...not a big deal.  Or you could skip it entirely and just go to the park or the library or a museum.  Also - when you're worried about who is getting left out of what, it helps to remember that no college (if that is your destination) gives a rat's ass about what you did in 3rd grade.  And in Texas, there is no Homeschool Police giving a rat's ass, either.  So basically, you don't need to do anything in order to check something off of a list....you need to learn about things that interest you, when they interest you, and in ways that give you joy.  Teaching a 2nd grader American history is fun to do if they want to do it....it is miserable and pointless if they don't.

5. Curriculum: My questions are what did you consider? What one(s) do you select and why? What one(s) did you rejected and why?

I don't believe in purchasing boxed curriculum or bundles because it is everything you hate about school conveniently packed in a box and nothing more.  That said, we use a few things that work for us.

I like Critical Thinking Math when the kids are little, and I like Teaching Textbooks beginning in 5th grade. BTW - my kids have all been able to skip 6th grade math entirely - it is just more fifth grade math or early 7th grade math - why pay for it?  Go straight to 7th.  Ellie has done Teaching Textbooks all the way through Pre-Calculus. 

For Reading, we tried Teach Your Child to Read in 100 Easy Lessons but really, I'd rather have my fingernails ripped out with a pair of rusty pliers.  I much prefer Phonics Pathways if you're going to use something like this....it will teach them to decode words.  What teaches actual reading, however, is being read to.  At least that is how it worked for us.

For American History I like the series, A Story of Us by Joy Hakim.  Ellie began taking college US History in 9th grade through community college, and she was cracking up because it was A Story of Us only more boring :).  World History....I love A Story of the World (Bauer).  I used this series with older kids in a co-op - and they got WAY more out of it than when I've done it with younger kids, even though it is definitely written for the younger kids....they really don't get it in the same way....but that doesn't mean it isn't worthwhile to share it if they're interested.

I also like Easy Grammar and The Great Books Foundation.  There.  That's about it.  Oh! And we rent and purchase series from The Teaching Company...and yes, we actually listed these courses on Ellie's high school transcript, as do many homeschoolers.  Astronomy, History of Tudors and Stuarts, Greek Mythology.....just to name a few.

6. How do you schedule your day for those of you with a curriculum? What about all the other things that come up during the week...doctor's appointments, grocery shopping, etc? Do you plan one day a week for these or do them as you have time?

I have made schedule after schedule after schedule....and they all get shot to hell within a couple of days by unexpected events or Life In General and that is just how it is.  Somehow, my kids seem to know all the things they need to know when they need to know them.  And then some.

7. How many days a week do you participate in homeschool co-ops and/or homeschool park days? Do you find these very beneficial?

These were very important to me in the beginning.  After awhile, as the kids got older, their activities took over and my youngest have not have much participation in co-ops or homeschool groups the way their older siblings did.  They have grown up at Odyssey of the Mind meetings, Readers' Theater rehearsals, piano recitals, and Tae Kwon Do tournaments.  And they don't seem to have suffered for the lack of organized art activities.  I think those things were mainly for me, you know?  Not that that makes them unimportant.  As the kids get older, you find you simply can't fit it all in, and park day gets replaced by team meetings and lessons....when things become unbalanced, you generally know it and then it's a matter of deciding what to cut back on.
8. How many extracurricular activities does your children do per week? (Scouts, karate, gymnastics, dance, etc)

This totally depends on the kid.  I have one NON-JOINER...God Love Him.....but the rest have at least one activity each.  I don't consider them to be extracurricular activities anymore than my own interests and activities are considered extracurricular. These are just parts of their lives that offer unique educational experiences.  I think the number of activities depends on the child and the family.  Some of my kids have craved lots of activities and social interactions, and a couple haven't.  When life becomes stressed, you know it.  When a kid becomes stressed, you know it. 

My life, at the moment, is completely overwhelming.  I have two kids who are very intensely involved in time-consuming activities, and combined with the other two who manage to exercise a bit of moderation in their goings on, but who have things going on, nonetheless, it is a lot for one mom. But the first one will be moving out in a matter of months and I see the light at the end of the tunnel.  And it devastates me.  So yeah. Keep on keepin' on.  Also - as long as Jasper remains devoted to anti-socialism (and I'm not talking Tea Party - I'm talking total anti-social behavior), there is hope that I will not get completely overloaded to the point that I just used up my last minute in my last day. The minute he becomes interested in something, however, I'm done for. 

9. Where do you find "me" time for yourself or get other adult interaction?

Ha!  My idea of Me Time, much like my idea of homeschooling, has significantly evolved over the years.  For one thing, I don't crave it as much as I used to.  Probably because the co-sleeping has mostly ended and the breastfeeding definitely has, and the kids themselves, now that they're older, are actually pretty dang good company.  I do, however, get the occasional wild hair and you can read the previous blog post to see how well that works out for me :).

OK - off to jump back into the fray....

You Can Run But You Can't Hide

In the middle of all of the birthday partying...

Camille's Sleepover was on a Friday Night:

And then, because I am insane, Jules' Halo Sleepover was the Next Night...(this is right before all the boys surprised him by breaking into "I Sent a Bottle of Sparkling Apple Juice to Your House" from the Worst SNL Skit Ever...instead of the traditional "Happy Birthday." Jasper, of course, is center stage, and yes, he sang the stupid song, too.  There is a line in the song that goes, "Did you get it?" and that was Jasper's role. The look on Jules' face (he's in the monster t-shirt) says he is suspicious that something is up. 

It is a tradition on our house that the birthday presents (from family) be unwrapped in what used to be the Family Bed but is now blissfully not the Family Bed at whatever ungodly hour Jeff's schedule dictates.  On Jules' birthday, Jeff had to be out of the house around 7:00 so...here is Jules with his Ipod.

And here is what Joel looked like at that time of the morning :).

We have also been anniversary-ing.TWENTY-FIVE YEARS!! The Big One.  Camille took this picture on our anniversary (wearing the hats Ellie made us, of course) and at the last minute, Jasper stuck a nerf gun barrell under Jeff's nose, and oddly it was me that winced.  Because it is apparently illegal for anyone to take a decent picture of me, that's why.

Jeff spent our anniversary working, and I spent it parenting and then taking Camille to ballet.  After ballet, we met at our favorite Thai restaurant (with Camille) for dinner.  I didn't boo-hoo about it because we had a little getaway planned.  Not a Big Getaway, mind you.  We were invited on a Big Getaway with some dear friends who were celebrating their 20th anniversary - a cruise. 

But we:
a) Are afraid to get too far away
b) Don't have enough time to get too far away
c) Don't have the money to get too far away....too much going on and too many travel expenses associated with Ellie's string of auditions coming up soon.

No Problem.  That's what being married and making a family is all about right? 

I agonized online for weeks over where we would go for a quick getaway.  Where we live, we are less than two hours away from the Texas Hill Country, a lovely and peaceful place that plays host to a ridiculous number of cottages, bed and breakfast inns, etc.  We had our choice of river fronts, lake fronts, tip tops of hills, woodlands....you name it.  When I say I agonized, I mean I really agonized.  Did we want to go romantic and frilly nestled in the heart of a little hilltop village?  Or did we want to go for cozy and private in the middle of the woods?

In the end we went for cozy and private. I don't know. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that we seem to live in Grand Central Station.  Also, we've had a couple of awkward bed and breakfast stays that I won't bore you with here.

So.  We picked a cedar cottage in the woods.  We were charmed from the moment we opened the door.  The owners had built it themselves and left a little scrapbook documenting the entire process, which we found very interesting. We really appreciated all of the details and craftsmanship of the cabin after looking at the scrapbook. Also? There was a hot tub on the covered porch.

There were two other cabins on the property and they both had hot tubs but neither of them were covered.  It rained the entire time we were there and I kept thinking about how jealous the other cabin guests must have been over my ability to think ahead and go with the covered porch with the hot tub.  Yay for me! This was the morning view from my hot tub.

It was foggy and drizzling that first night in the hot tub.  We were surrounded by woods and hills.  The fog rolled in like waves on a beach, swirling around the trees and crawling up our deck. The rain pattered on the tin roof.  The fog and mist were literally glowing, emanating a mother-of-pearl sheen illuminated by the light of the brilliant....you thought I was going to say moon, didn't you?  That would have been lovely.  But it wasn't a moon.  It was the most gigantic lit-up cross I have ever seen in my life.  A hilltop church set that thing alight every evening, and let me tell you, you couldn't avoid staring at it.  It was really something.  I wondered if it was placed there for any sinning that might be taking place in any hot tubs in the general vicinity...

There was a cozy fireplace and it was fireplace weather...ours was blazing the entire time we were in the cabin, which unfortunately, wasn't as often as we would have liked, but I'll get to that in a minute...

The other neat-o thing about the cabin was the shower.  It wasn't an outdoor shower, you got to it by going through the adorable little bathroom, but it FELT like an outdoor shower.  It was shaped like a round, wooden cistern, and indeed, you could see it from the outside...the little scrapbook said creative carpentry had attached it....and the roof was glass.  When you looked up, sky, trees, rain, and on the morning I took this picture, ice!  I got to watch it melt as the steamy shower warmed the glass.

The website described the cabin as "Blissfully Isolated!"  But it was not quite isolated enough.  While our cell phones didn't work well enough from the cabin for us to actually have phone conversations with anyone...they did work well eough to ring.  And ring they did (and really - a big shout-out thank you to all of you who called). The only way any actual communication could take place was with a short climb up a hill.  In the rain.  Which we did. Repeatedly.

The first round of calling had to do with details involving the whereabouts of the two youngest kids and how to get them from point A to point B as there had been some confusion and Ellie had been left with Jasper who had refused to go to point A and now Ellie was trying to leave the house to get to her Point A and obviously couldn't leave him alone and the two middle boys were at a separate Point A and....yeah....several hikes up the hill later, it was resolved and she drove him to his Point A where he should have gone in the first place and then headed towards her Point A.

Jeff and I then headed out to a very late lunch or early dinner, depending on how you looked at it, and while we were enjoying said late lunch or early dinner, Jeff's phone rang. 

"It's Ellie," he said.

Ellie really only ever calls Jeff if she's trying to avoid speaking to me.  And the only reason she ever tries to avoid speaking to me is if she has something to say that she thinks might make me go a little nutters.  So when I heard Jeff say, "Are you hurt?"  I WENT A LITTLE NUTTERS.

She had come upon a freeway accident as it was happening, during rush hour, in the rain, and in her attempt to avoid smashing into the screeching car in front of her, she had smashed into the divider.  And pretty good, too, because the car didn't drive.  I mentioned it was raining, right?  And that it was rush hour?  And that she was on a crowded freeway?  Just sitting there waiting for someone else to smash into her?  Holy cow.  I was a mess.

We got into our car and began what would normally be an hour-long journey to get to her.  In the rain and during rush hour, it was more than an hour.  AND I WAS NUTTERS THE ENTIRE TIME. She kept us updated on the phone...the police are here but they're up in the main accident...okay, now they're here...they won't let me call a tow truck because they need one of their contracted towers to clear the scene...traffic is backed up....there are firetrucks, ambulances, flares....BIG MESS.

Me:  Do you even have a jacket?  (She never has a jacket.)

Ellie:  I'm fine.  (That means, "No, I don't have a jacket but I'll never admit it.")

We arrived at the scene, which WAS quite alarming as it was a pretty horrific wreck, but the police officer had told Ellie that miraculously, he didn't think anyone up ahead had been critically injured.  We had to pass the whole thing going in the opposite direction, exit, and then hit her side of the freeway.  Let me tell you, driving past a big accident, knowing that your kid is in it, even if you're talking to her on the phone at the time and know she's okay....is a traumatic experience.  We pulled in just as they were letting traffic begin to go by, and just as Ellie's car was hoisted up on a tow truck.  We have AAA, but the police officer wouldn't let Ellie call them.  He told her they needed to clear the scene pronto - and a contracted tow truck came and got her for a negotiated contract highway robbery rate of $120.  We followed. He drove her and her banged up car to a negotiated contract body shop which turned out to be closed and locked up....and dumped her and her banged up car ON THE STREET. Sheesh.  AAA came shortly after and towed the car to our house, another hour away....where everyone was surprised to see us and was all like, "Hey! What are you guys doing back from your vacation?" 

The car, which is my sister's car, by the way, and NOT Ellie's, is one that Ellie was borrowing with the intention to buy.  It is totalled. Also?  Only carried liability insurance.  So?  We now have to pay to fix the car.  But I'm going to tell Ellie not to pay whatever my sister is asking because dang...now the freaking car has been in an accident and has depreciated greatly in value...I'll let you know how that goes.

Several hours later, because we aren't quitters, that's why, we drove back to our cabin in the woods and soaked in the hot tub beneath the neon cross. The two little people were safely tucked in bed at my agitated sister's.  Ellie was home with her two brothers, with friends and family checking in.

The next morning, we slept in.  Traumatic events like vacations can zap all your energy, you know.  When we woke up, Jeff fixed me coffee and a bagel with lox and cream cheese.  Then he started the hot tub for me (he's not a big hot tub fan, himself) and even wired up a sound system so that I could listen to some relaxing John Frusciante on the deck while I soaked.  He wandered off to play his guitar and I sat in the mist and listened to John croon over the rain....I almost let myself relax and that was a huge mistake.

After a few minutes Jeff walked out wearing The Look.

"What is it?" I said.

"Well, I just took a little hike up the hill..."

"Who called?" I asked.

"Your sister," he said.

This could only be bad.  She was still a little pissy over Ellie totalling her car so she wasn't calling to wish us a happy anniversary, of that I was pretty dang sure.

"Well,"  he said.  "She said she's headed to the house to pick up Joel and take him to the emergency room."

That's right, folks.  This was a completely separate emergency from the previous night's catastrophe involving, unbelievably enough, a completely different teenager in an unrelated incident. 

Turns out, after Jeff called Ellie for the details, we learned it wasn't Joel but Jules.  My sister believed it was Joel right up until the moment Jules actually got in her car.  Believe me, if I could go back in time and give them different names, I would.  This isn't the first time we have thought the wrong brother was involved in some emergency because when you're hysterical, "Joel's been hurt!" and "Jules' been hurt!" sound pretty much the same.

The entire story is still dribbling out in spurts, but basically, according to The Joels, it is something like this.

It was 3:00 A.M. and the boys were still awake because the parents were gone and the little people were at Auntie's and Ellie was in the garage apartment recovering from the wreck trauma that had taken place merely hours before.  Joel threw a dirty sock at Jules' face.  Jules responded by "doing a Matrix move" on Joel.  Joel responded to the Matrix Move by saying that was the lamest Matrix move he had ever seen in his entire life.  He retrieved his long, black Morpheus coat that he had, by luck, purchased earlier that day at a Goodwill Store, in order to demonstrate a much more impressive Matrix move.  He demonstrated the much more impressive Matrix move.  Everyone in the room (Joel and Jules and possibly Ranger the dog) agreed that this was a much more impressive Matrix move or series of Matrix moves.  In fact, Jules said, "Dude, I think I broke my finger when I hit the wall."  Then they went to bed.
The End.

No, not the end.  The next afternoon, Ellie dragged the boys out of bed because well, it was afternoon and such as she was, she was the adult on the scene.  She saw Jules' finger and it looked incredibly broken.  Both boys, being male and sharing the irritating male quality of downplaying Basically Everything, agreed the finger was merely dislocated.  Ellie, however, was unconvinced due to the "extreme angle, swelling, and discoloration" of the appendage.  She googled "dislocated fingers."  She called her boyfriend who is a soccer player and is always dislocating something or other.  She came to the general conclusion that the finger was not dislocated and was indeed broken and phoned her aunt who says Ellie then told her that Joel (not Jules) had broken his finger.  Then my sister (not wanting to call me because we've already established the fact that I am pretty much the last person anyone wants to talk to in an emergency) called Jeff, who hiked up the hill, and then back down and over to the hot tub wearing The Look.

Over the next several hours, we hiked the hill a few more times to talk about where insurance cards could be found, to talk to the hospital admitting office about what our address is (that's right - he didn't know - and he's 13...note to self....) and social security numbers and birth dates, etc.

Then there were calls where my sister complained about how long she was spending in the ER with my one kid the very day after my other kid totalled her car.  She's sensitive. 

Then there were calls about the results of the X-Ray and the fact that the finger is very impressively broken beneath the growth plate and will need surgery and pins, etc.

The only thing left that could possibly have made the time anymore romantic than it already had been, was the ensuing discussion over what the hell our insurance would cover (90% after the deductible...so we're out $2,000 right off the bat and did I mention the wreck from the night before??) and then the next morning we got up and drove home because the getaway was freaking finally over.  Now?  I need a vacation.  Also?  We could have taken a very lovely cruise (or two) for what this getaway will end up "costing" us in the long run.

You know, when the kids were little it was very hard for us to "get away" and we rarely accomplished it.  The fact that we believed in extended breastfeeding and co-sleeping and that we had five kids (I have spent almost 10 years of my life breastfeeding) meant that it wasn't practical for us to get away for more than an afternoon or so for a very, very long time.  Now that our youngest is six years old, and our oldest is eighteen years old, and thank god nobody is breastfeeding (for several years now, in case you're wondering) you would think it would be easier.  But it isn't.  The teenagers are wonderfully independent and definitely less needy.  But they manage Bigger Trouble.  They don't mean to.  There have been lots of sincere apologies and they genuinely feel badly about the way our getaway turned out.  But still.  They're not breastfeeding - but can they really be left alone?  I'm still thinking about it...right now, I'm thinking NO.

I used to hear people say they wouldn't find peace until the grave (hey, we're Jewish and perky that way).  And I would think, "Well, that is a dang depressing thing to say....I will never grow old and say that."  Well, on December 15 I grew old. And then today, as we drove home from our getaway, I found myself thinking that the only time I'll ever catch a break is when I'm dead. 

I know how awful this sounds, but after a getaway like I've just had?  It gives me something to look forward to.

Okay - Dudes - don't take me too seriously - I don't and that, my friends, is the only reason I'm not currently residing in a psyche ward.  We don't need any suicide hotline intervention here.  A Real Vacation, however, would be lovely. See if you can arrange that. In the meantime, here's a little Frusciante to relax you.

Go Ahead...Try and Make Some Sense of This

I realize I was supposed to have wrapped up 2010 before 2011 but I pretty much fail to roll that way.  I'm going to do a little Wrap-Up and Best Of and Worst Of 2010 right now - on the first day of 2011 because really, I'm not one to sweat the details.  I am One Who Sweats The Big Picture....and I do so regularly.  We all have our little roles to play...

So, in no particular order and with more than a little mayhem, I shall attempt to wrap up 2010 - all neat and tidy like. Although you and I both know right here and now that it will be neither neat nor tidy-like.  So go ahead, try and make some sense of it.  Ready, set, go!!

**Best Google Search of 2010 That Landed a Poor Confused Soul on my Blog**
College of Santa Claus and Sardines Dancers 

If you are reading this and you are the person who googled the above search....oh my god....please contact me.  I don't know why, really.  I guess I just want to know what is going on in your life that would cause you to have the need to consult the googles about sardine dancers and santa clause colleges.

Most people, by the way, land on this blog looking for information about whether or not they can feed sardines to their babies.  Seriously.  Most People.  That is what Most People want to know and then they end up here.

My MOST Visited Posts found via the googles are:
Sardine Mama: The Illustrated Edition
According to my Big Ass Utensil Drawer
Stream of Consciousness...Hair...Roosters...Etc
Peace, Rocks, and Tequila

Now these aren't my best posts, but for some reason, people end up on them the most.  It all seems rather random to me.  And I'm pretty sure that the words "Big" and "Ass" on one of them are what is creating the draw...somewhat disturbing.

People also occasionally end up on my blog when consulting the googles about the Red Hot Chili Peppers and that tickles me no end.  I could basically answer ANY QUESTIONS you might have about the Red Hot Chili Peppers...but so far...nobody has asked.  Feel free.  I will amaze you with my endless and entirely useless Red Hot Chili Peppers trivia.  Seriously.  Prepare for Amazement.  Anyway, RHCP fans who end up here seem to be looking for this picture in the google image searches:



This picture appeared on my post The Kiss That Started The Whole Catastrophe. The post has nothing to do with the picture, by the way, which is Anthony Kiedis (RHCP) kissing Eddie Veder (Pearl Jam).  I can just see all the confused little faces going, "Huh?" when they end up on my mommy blog or whatever the heck kind of a blog this is while looking for this particular photo.

Oh! And if you were to click on the above post, you would also see that I was given the One Lovely Blogger Award by Ami. I briefly acknowledged it but never displayed it in all its loveliness...

Nor did I do what I was supposed to do and pass this award on to 15 newly discovered bloggers.  I haven't had the time to go about discovering new bloggers, lately, although I do really love it when I happen upon a blog I've never visited, before.  So here's where YOU come in.  Let me know of a blogger you love (who is not already on my blog roll) and why you love them.  I'll pick 15 (if you guys don't cough up 15 I'll go out and find some myself SO THERE) and then I'll feature them here.  Maybe in my next post....or maybe in the Wrap-Up for 2011.  Who knows?  See?  It's exciting.

Let's move on, shall we?

I guess, when I sat down to write this post, I intended to state what my happiest or most thrilling moments were of 2010...what my most miserable were...but I can see, now that I'm sitting here, that this isn't possible.  2010 was so full of both that I wouldn't know where to begin.  I took Ellie's and Joel's Odyssey team to the World Tournament in Michigan.  This was both thrilling and miserable.  Ellie won the Wysong Joplin Piano Competition.  This was thrilling.  But really, no more so than any other of a million things.  Any mom knows that watching a kid win something big....and watching a kid quietly overcome something that is both somehow minuscule and insurmountable (like watching your Asperger's kid crack a joke...or pick up on sarcasm without taking it personally....or be especially kind and understanding to a younger sibling) are both thrilling - and there is no scale of 1 - 10 by which you can measure.  That is where the word "immeasurable" comes in, I guess.  So much of what makes me laugh or cry is immeasurable in its strength or importance.  Life as a parent is a string of immeasurably thrilling, happy, funny, painful, and miserable moments.  And the moments, of course, add up to days, and weeks, and months, and years....and then we like to tidy them all up and stick them in a book of photos, or a computer file, or on a blog...and say, "There you go.  2010 all wrapped up."  And then you face the next moment.

2011 will see The Can losing its first sardine.  We're not sure where she'll be swimming off to...but swimming off she will definitely be doing.  This will change who I am in some way.  I've been the Mother of Young Children, the Mother of Teenagers, and the Mother of Both Simultaneously (seriously making me the Mother of all Mothers because you haven't lived until you've had a 16-year-old and a 4-year-old under the same roof).  But I've never been the Mother of a College Student...the mother of a Young Woman.  And if I'm the Mother of a Young Woman...I have definitely crossed out of Young Womanhood, myself.  Maybe its time for me to read Traveling With Pomegranates again? 

I'm really happy to be facing 2011.  It sure beats the alternative, as they say.  I'm hoping to not only finish the revisions on my novel, but to also have a path to publication established.  I'm hoping to finish the first draft of the second manuscript I've started, and maybe even start a third.  2011 is my shot at fiction....2012 might be my return to non-fiction.  We'll see.  Whatever it holds, as my kids get older I have more time to write, that's for sure. Also?  Depending on when they finish the album they're working on, I see a Red Hot Chili Peppers concert in 2011....possibly 2012, though.

OK - Moving onto The More Concrete:

Best Book I read in 2010:  Ugh.  This should be easy and most years it would be.  But I spent the year reading Contemporary Romance and more YA than usual...because that is what my current projects are.  And even though I enjoyed the Contemporary Romance (I like Susan Elizabeth Philips)....I wouldn't give any of it a literary prize.  I guess that leaves YA - where there is some truly good writing going on...and I'd have to give it to Suzanne Collins for The Hunger Games. 

I just finished reading Diana Gabaldon's Dragonfly in Amber and Voyager, which was no small feat given that the latter was over 1,000 pages and I am a busy girl.  These are favorites of my friend over at 9 Texans (in fact, they are her copies).  I loved them fiercely when I wasn't being insanely irritated.  Editing people?  How many times can one say a sentence was uttered "dryly" on one page?  Also - the dirty sex occasionally got to me.  I don't mean nasty sex...I'm talking you've been riding on a horse through the Scottish Highlands for weeks through rain/sleet/snow while half-starved/frozen and covered in body lice (yes - BODY LICE) and blood and the occasional bout of vomit with what I'm assuming is also poor dental hygiene and then yeah....anyone in the mood for a roll in the burs with a gigantic red-headed Viking?  Well, yes, actually - and quite a bit of it, too.  And let's not forget the indelicate mention of body odor while we're at it....also body hair.  So lovely, awesome, amazing books with just a tad too much information thrown in for good measure.

On my nightstand for 2011, I'm drooling to get started on Clown Girl by Monica Drake (given to me by a dear friend who has a knack for giving me perfect books) and The Elephant Vanishes, a collection of Haruki Murakami's short stories (given to me by Jeff). 

Worst Book I Couldn't Finish in 2010:
Flirt by Laurel K. Hamilton.  I made it as far as page 43.  Ummm...Ms. Hamilton?  Guys don't wear muscle shirts and running shorts anymore.  At least they shouldn't.  Even shapeshifters.  This book was the Official End of Sardine Mama's Vampire Porn Phase.  Thank you very much.

Most Disappointing TV of 2010:
FINAL EPISODE OF LOST OH MY GOD DON'T GET ME STARTED.

Most Disappointing Announcement of 2010:
John Frusciante left the Red Hot Chili Peppers.  Actually he did it in 2009 but I didn't find out about it until 2010.  I'm over it, now.  It wasn't like nobody saw it coming.  And aren't I lucky that this was the most disappointing announcement I suffered?  Seriously.  Think about it.  And yes, Frusciante's leaving RHCP ranked as more disappointing than Rick Perry winning the governor's race because....yeah...there was no race and I'm So Used To It By Now. Better to focus on musical funk than political funk.

Best Movie of 2010:
I saw a lot of movies.  And I'm sure one of them was better than the others....but honestly...nothing is jumping out at me.  You might want to help me out on this one.

Here's a good one....The Best Holiday Card Received by the Sardines in 2010:
This card came from my college dorm buddy, Sharon.  She and her husband, Adam, are trapped in the snow globe and those are their children gleefully enjoying the scene.  Adam is a photographer / artist and you can see more of his work here.

So 2011 has not let me even take the slightest little breather.  I've got not one BUT TWO sleepovers going down at my house next weekend as Jules turns 13 with a HALO party and Camille turns 9 with an Everyday Normal Girly Sleepover.  And of course, we're celebrating 25 years of marriage on Tuesday.  And by celebrating, I mean that Jeff will be at work and I will be at Camille's ballet studio for several hours.  But we do have a little getaway planned for later.  And by getaway, I'm talking wine, hot tub, and a stack of books....Jeff being there is a Total Bonus of course!!

OK - so don't forget to send me your One Lovely Blog Award nominees.

Happy New Year to You and Yours!

Christmas is In The Bag (Again)

Christmas was in the house.  It was also in the bag (again).  That's right.  I won't tell you what my favorite gift was, but I will totally tell you about my favorite gift bag, provided once again, by my sister.

I have to be honest.  It was a little bit of a letdown.  It was not as revealing impressive as last year's bag.  But really, the waistband had nowhere to go but up after last year.  Lower was not an option.  I don't actually get anything from the Abercrombie store, my sister just goes in and requests a bag.  It takes so little to make me happy nowadays.

Moving along to more wholesome holiday fare....Ellie spent the day before Christmas doing this:

Making hats.  The hat-making resulted in this photo taken on Christmas Eve:

Jasper is holding a stuffed animal.  I can't tell which one it is.  Also?  I took six pictures and Jasper looked the most normal in this one.  Anyway - the stuffed animal is either Tiger-y or Little Green Bear.  His newest stuffed animal is called Snakey.  Joel commented on his lack of imagination in the naming department....Joel...the former owner of a gerbil named Blackie and a gerbil named Whitey.  Anyway, we have two Little Green Bears in our home - one is Jules's - and Jasper (also known as Jules's shadow) named his teddy Little Green Bear, too.  Even though he isn't green.  Anyway, Ellie made Little Green Bear an awesome yellow Jamaican hat - and Jasper  rejected it because it wasn't a beret', which was apparently what Little Green Bear had his heart set on.  So I was a little concerned that Jasper (who as you can see, is also not wearing a beret') might likewise reject his Christmas present from his sister - but he didn't.  Joel has convinced him that the pom poms (which Joel insists on calling balls) can be used as weapons if the need arises.  He briefly lost a ball while doing some kind of martial arts demonstration with his knitted cap - and I will leave the visual imagery of that thrilling display up to your imagination.

Christmas Eve found Jeff serving up our usual South Texas holiday fare of tamales, chili, Mexican rice, and guacamole.  I was feeling a bit under the weather (thanks for the cold, Jules!) and appreciated the fact that I have a cooking husband.  After all that cooking and eating, the Boy and His Dog took a little ho ho ho laydown during the cleanup. Right there on the floor.

The kids were all set to rip into the gifts - but there was a bit of important business to take care of first.  I believe I mentioned before that I got a new tattoo on my birthday (this is a result of a very persistent mid-life crisis that I have also mentioned before).  My dad had refused to look at it, saying that he needed fortification first (alcohol).  Seeing as how sooner or later I was going to be forced into a short sleeved shirt in his presence, I decided the time had come, and he was thus properly fortified.  Then he looked at my arm through squinted eyes, commented on the SIZE OF THE THING (the tattoo, that is, not my arm, which is actually fairly proportional to the rest of me), and said, "Wear it in good health."  Even though it is now official that I cannot be buried in an Orthodox Jewish Cemetery.  Well, actually, that was official after the first tattoo.  But now it is for sure - I couldn't sneak this one past a rabbi.  But seeing as how this entire scene of the Revelation of the Tattoo took place in front of a Hanukkah Bush known in some circles as a Freaking Christmas Tree - is this really an issue?  Anyway, now that the Old Man has officially seen it, I can share it.  So here it is.....

That is my professional tattoo artist, Rick, sticking his tongue out behind me.  It was really, really late.  He spent a lot of time designing the thing - which was lovely because yeah, I wanted him to.  So much time, in fact, that Ellie had time to wander off and do this:

She got her ear pierced.  Because really, it is terribly boring to watch someone get a tattoo.  I mean, I guess if they're carrying on and getting all hysterical it would be entertaining, but I'm not one to do that.  Because I'm Awesome.  Rick the Tattoo Artist is Kari's friend from Jr. High - so she went with us.  This picture was taken before she became massively bored.  Unlike Ellie, Kari's boredom did not result in a piercing.  She just got on Facebook.

Back to Christmas.  I woke up with a fever and a sore throat and the kids woke up to find their stockings (each one made lovingly by their Great Aunt Flo) full of goodies.  It was chocolate for breakfast, and four trays of cheese and spinach enchiladas for lunch.  I had a lovely day, even though I didn't feel good, just watching everyone play with their new things and enjoy being together.  The Christmas music was blaring, the dog was running from the remote control truck Santa brought Jasper, the boys were shooting aliens, Camille was playing with her doll....there were pieces of wrapping paper, puzzles, and matchbox racing cars all over the floor.  People brought me Earl Gray tea in a pretty mug and said they hoped I'd feel better soon.  I fell asleep listening to Bing Crosby hanging in there, but still being overpowered by Jeff singing to David Bowie while the family played Rock Band.  All in all, it couldn't have been any better.  I think having a cold and feeling slow gave me the opportunity to sit back and absorb and appreciate the scene, rather than running around and missing so much. Not that I'd want to be sick again next year.  Just saying, it wasn't all bad. 

I love Christmas.  I love the lights, the preparations, the food, and the family.  We don't keep Christ in Christmas the way some people do, and maybe that bothers the said some people.  I don't know how to feel about that, exactly.  I mean, I get their point - it is a religious holiday.  So I can see how if you're a devout Christian, you would want to make the holiday about Jesus and you would remind yourself to Keep Christ in Christmas.  But as to what other people, those of us who are not religious, want to do in our own homes with our own families to celebrate our childhood/hearth/home traditions.....which for my family includes a tree, gifts, music and food....why would you care?  Why would you get angry?  Would you like to come sneaking in like the Grinch (a popular Christmas story that has no mention of keeping Christ in Christmas when it extols the virtues and meaning of the spirit of Christmas) and take away my Christmas tree?  What does a Christmas tree have to do with Jesus anyway?  For that matter, what do lights, gifts, tamales, and overspending at Target have to do with Jesus?  Keep Christ in Christmas!! the bumper stickers parked outside of Wal-Mart say.  Now I'm assuming that Christians already do this.  So the bumper stickers must be directed at the Rest of Us.  Those of us who might just be trying to use the holiday (since it is a time that schools/colleges/universities and all government offices and most retail establishments and all banks and office buildings are closed) as an opportunity to spend time with our families cooking and eating, dancing and singing, giving and receiving....sitting around a very lit-up tree that never appeared in Bethlehem...listening to music about a walking/talking snowman...and yes about Jesus, too....passing around babies from young arms to old....and passing down stories...

To those who are upset that we dare to do this - what else would you have us do?  And if we tell you Happy Holidays because we might not know you well enough to know what holiday it is you're celebrating this time of year (maybe you're Jewish) - do you choose to be outraged that we didn't say Merry Christmas?  I am often confused by the anger that seeps out over things such as this....during the time of year when people are meant to celebrate the hope of an everlasting and joyful peace.

Would you believe that when I set out to blog - I had no intention of mentioning any of this?  But I have.  So I'll leave off with a few more pictures of us enjoying a holiday that we call Christmas.

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays from the Sardine Family (which apparently includes at least one current Buddhist) to Yours!! 

Endless Shock and Awe

I'd like to start out by saying that the holidays have snuck up on me....but I'm pretty sure I said that last year.  It is amazing how many times in a row I can be amazed by the same things.  Don't we all do that and isn't it pretty stupid?  Or is it ingenious?  Maybe it's ingenious.  It is God's or the Universe's or the Spaghetti Monster's way of keeping us amused.  Otherwise we'd be endlessly bored.  So...every summer we proclaim that we can't believe it's this hot....then the first cool front blows in and we all run outside like idiots..."wow! nobody expected this!".....then someone has a birthday and we say, "I can't believe another year has gone by!"  We are continually amazed that our kids get bigger, we get older, the weather gets hotter or colder, and December rolls around and Oh My God Christmas Came With It.  Who saw it coming?  Seriously, how could you predict something like that?

So yes, here I am (again) with a week before Christmas and presents still to buy, and if I need to mail you something you can totally forget it.  You're getting it late.  And even though I do it that way every single year, it will still surprise you because apparently, we are just wired for continual shock and awe. 

Speaking of shock and awe, I just had a birthday.  I know!  Amazing!  It was a great day doing basically pretty much what we do every year....and I'll blog about it like it has Never Happened Before!  Eventually you people are going to stop reading.  Wait a minute, no you won't.  We've already established that this is how it works....continual surprise and amazement.

Every year I force the kids to get a Santa picture on my birthday.  I won't tell you how we see the same Santa every year and how he cracks up at us or how he creeps Ellie out or any of that - because I'm pretty dang sure I said it last year. Here's this year's photo.

Joel asked for a Barbie and I think it would be awesome if he got one.  Jasper just said, "Bring me a surprise." Ellie refused to talk to Santa, Camille gave him her letter like she does every year, and I'm not sure what was going on with Jules but I did crack up when Santa's assistant pried his hands out of his pockets and forced him to place them in his lap.  It reminded me of that one year that he played basketball when he was six.  His coach eventually duct-taped his pockets shut....she was tired of watching the basketballs bounce off of his forehead as he stood with his hands in his pockets.  I don't really produce jocks over here.  Anyway - I have veered off topic.  Joel wore his Christmas uniform of a Guns'n Roses t-shirt and backwards baseball cap, Ellie put on a festive scarf even though it was 70 outside, Camille just looked freaking cute like she always does (our little fashion plate who enjoys an endless supply of hand-me-downs from a couple of girly families), and Jasper (who is doing his "Here's Johnny" Jack Nicholson face) and Jules are both sporting shirts buttoned All The Way To The Top.  Jules wears his shirts that way because it seems to be one of those Unofficial Asperger's Traits.  Jasper does it because

a) Jules does it

b) He's just quirky as hell

When I suggested he might want a little breathing room at the collar, he unbuttoned all of his buttons, pulled the neckline down as low as possible, and shrieked, "You want me to look like this?  Is this what you want?  You want me to show my CHEST??"

Of course, Jasper reacts strongly to suggestions, in general.  I recently offered him a meatball in an Indian buffet line - it was an innocent slip - I had briefly forgotten that Jules had watched Food Inc and gloriously shared all the details with Jasper, thereby turning him into an overnight committed vegetarian.  So I'm holding out the meatball on a serving spoon and Jasper yells, "Are you trying to kill me?" 

"Umm...no," I said.  "Just offering a meatball...."

He and Camille went and got their hair cut for the Santa picture.  Jasper is a cutter.  Seriously.  We don't know where he keeps his scissors, but he's constantly cutting on his hair.  It's a problem.  Anyway - we needed to even things up a bit so he reluctantly climbed in the chair and said to the stylist, "Do a better job this time.  Last time the hair cut only lasted two hours."  Two hours.  Before he was "forced" to take matters into his own hands and cut his bangs. 

He looks good in the Santa pic.  Like a little angel. 

I told Ellie that if she ends up at a Texas university, she can come home next year on my birthday for the Santa picture.  And she said, "I signed an 18-year contract with you people.  I'm done."  Hmph.

After the Santa photo, we headed over to Mi Tiera where I enjoyed some delicious enchiladas verdes.  Last year Jeff made them for me, but this year I had plans for the evening that involved a birthday trip to a tattoo parlor, where I met up again with my friend, Rick.  Maybe I'll post a pic, later.  My dad hasn't seen the tattoo yet and I'd hate for him to see it first on the blog that he says he doesn't read.

Ellie gave me a beautiful teapot, Jeff got me another Haruki Murakami book (he is my All Time Favorite Author), Camille made me a necklace, Jasper made me a snowflake ornament out of popsicle sticks that is also the Red Hot Chili Peppers emblem, and the Joels-Boys (Joel and Jules) got me a Frusciante CD that I may or may not like (haven't listened to it, yet) because even though I am a loyal fan - sometimes Frusciante does Weird Artistically Expressive Sh*t that I, with my suffocatingly small mind, fail to fully appreciate.  I also got Chili Peppers Live From Slane Castle...because nothing says, "Happy Birthday Mom!" like a parental advisory for explicit content. 

I'm feeling very blessed this Christmas (Yes!  I said "Blessed" even though I don't usually use that term..).  My family is together.  Ellie is still with us - even if she comes home for Christmas every year after - it won't be the same as her being "with us" as in still at this stage of her life where this is her home....here with all of us.  My dad is doing amazingly well after being So Basically Crippled and Decrepit last year at this time...where he sat in his wheelchair holding his tequila shot glass up and saying, "God Bless Us, Every One!!"  There is no little crutch without an owner hanging by the door - the old guy is up and running around - doesn't use the cane even because, quite frankly, one of my kids always accidentally kicks it out from under him and we decided it was a hindrance. 

Nobody in our family is ill.  Jeff has a job.  We have a roof over our heads.  We are all under it - a snapshot in time - this last year of our intact little family before these kids start taking off to live their lives outside of the sardine can.  So it feels especially warm and sweet, this surprise Christmas that snuck up on me. 

In case the Chili Peppers video above wasn't quite your cup of tea....I'll leave you with this video...my kid....rocking the piano.  I have to admit, my heart actually hurts when I watch it.  I am continually amazed by this aching heart...the endless love I feel for my kids...catches me off guard and steals my breath at the darnedest times...

Merry Christmas to you - and may you continue to be endlessly amazed by the sweet repetition of your own life's little surprises.

Etude in C Minor, Op. 39, No. 1 - Rachmaninoff /  on Vimeo.

Because It Wouldn't Be Christmas Without the Ghost of Bob Marley

We've ushered in the Christmas season with a little Scrooge.  I love to read A Christmas Carol out loud and the children suffer through it quite nicely.  The little ones like it the best.  Anyway, we rented the movie, the one where Scrooge is played by George C. Scott (my favorite Scrooge). Jasper was a little nervous, worried he'd be scared by the ghost business and lose face in front of the big brothers.  So when the first chain rattling apparition appeared, Jasper peeked out from behind a sofa cushion and proclaimed, "That's the ghost of Bob Marley!" Everyone laughed, of course, and Jasper really hates it when that happens. But I made them all stop and said, "No, mon. That be the ghost of Jacob Marley." But he was close.

Sometimes Jasper isn't close with his proclamations. Sometimes he is Right On.  Are you sensing another Christmas tale coming up?  Because you'd be right.  Let's see...

Once Upon a Time - as in just a couple of days ago, the Sardines accompanied the Daddy Sardine to Corpus Christi, where he would be working for a few days.  They do this fairly regularly, and always stay in the same place  - a place with an indoor pool that is Very Important to the Little Fishies- and a free happy hour that is Very Important to Sardine Mama.

Now, one morning Sardine Mama was walking to the indoor pool when she was accosted by a lovely woman. "Excuse me," said the lovely woman.  "Is that your family in there?" she asked, while pointing at the pool area on the other side of the glass partition.

Sardine Mama glanced nervously behind the lovely woman.  It was quite noisy in the pool.  A long-haired boy was dunking a much smaller boy under the water - and the smaller boy wasn't going under without a good fight. There was a lot of splashing and shouting and hair pulling....and some of what might be considered "minor" cursing. There was also a bald man swimming with two smaller children clinging to his back, both wearing goggles, one with a snorkel, and both screaming hysterically - one because he was slightly terrified of getting splashed and the other because she is just made that way.  It sounded as if there were at least 100 people in the pool.

After a moment of hesitation, Sardine Mama went ahead and claimed her family.  Somebody had to, after all, and she swallowed in nervous anticipation of what was to come next.  Would it be a complaint about language? Volume? Long hair? Would it be the ever so tiresome Why Aren't They In School question?

It was none of those things.  The lovely woman started with, "Don't be alarmed..." 

Now when Sardine Mama hears this, she generally becomes alarmed.  Was there a herd of sardine-eating piranhas in the pool?  Had the woman accidentally spilled a vat of acid?  Let loose a great white shark?

"Don't be alarmed," she repeated. "But my husband is in the pool's bathroom putting on a Santa suit."

Sardine Mama wasn't anticipating that.  Not at all.  She didn't know whether or not she should be alarmed, and she didn't know what to say.

"The children are welcome to say hello, of course," the lovely woman said.  "But please, they mustn't sit on his lap."

Sardine Mama was quite certain that there was no way in hell that the little sardines would be sitting on the Bathroom Santa's lap. 

"Because they're wet, you see," said the woman. "We wouldn't want them staining Santa's lap. We're late for a party."

Sardine Mama assured her there would be no wet lap sitting and the woman seemed relieved to hear it.  Then she looked down, noticed Sardine Mama's bare feet and said, "Oh my!  What a beautiful tattoo!"  Because it is, that's why.  And then she proceeded to talk about all of her tattoos, because apparently, beneath the Reindeer sweatshirt, Mrs. Claus was quite inked up.  Eventually she stopped the tattoo talk and yelled, "Oh! Here he comes! Here comes Santa!"

Sardine Mama turned to see a very rumpled and sweaty Santa emerge from the pool's tiny (and steamy) bathroom. Silence descended upon the pool area.  The formerly noisy little girl sardine blew water out of her snorkel and lifted up her mask, completely speechless. 

"Ho ho ho!" said the Bathroom Santa, waving to the Swimming Sardines. 

None of them waved back.  It was so quiet, you could hear the water dripping off of the long-haired boy's...long hair. Finally, the six-year-old sardine - the one who goes by the name of Jasper - said, "Wow.  This is weird."  And then they all stared as the Bathroom Santa unceremoniously dodged puddles on his way out the door.

The End.

See what I mean? Jasper was right on the money with that one.  It was weird.

Would you like to hear another little hotel tale?  You would?  Well, you're in luck because I have one.

At the Entirely Free Happy Hour, we are in the habit of downing massive quantities of popcorn and goldfish while drinking sodas, Shirley Temples, and the occasional glass of merlot or even a tequila sunrise.  And I had just ordered Camille's second round of Shirley Temples (with extra cherries), when the bartender accidentally spilled the bottle of cherry syrup stuff and it literally shot out towards me like we were meant for each other.  It hit my hair, dribbled down my glasses rather pathetically, and then did a slow-mo splash and splatter down my Brand New Favorite Chocolate Brown Blouse.  Everyone at the bar was stunned and speechless in the exact same way you would be stunned and speechless if you were innocently entertaining yourself with a dip in the pool and a gigantic Real Life Santa were to emerge from the bathroom. 

"Oops!" said the bartender.  Oops?  Are you kidding me?  But you know what?  I am a really, really nice person.  I assured her it was okay.  I understood it was an accident.  I delivered the Shirley Temple to Camille - who took one look at me and went back to her popcorn like so what?  you want to stun me you've got to find a santa suit...seriously... And then I went and changed and thew my blouse in a sink of cold water.  The boys, being boys, didn't notice that I a) had arrived at the table with bright red syrup dripping down my face and hair, or that b) I had returned to the table a few moments later with wet hair and different clothes.  They didn't know what happened until they heard me telling their dad about it after we picked him up to take him to dinner.

"When did that happen?" they wanted to know.  Whatever.  They listened to the story as I recounted it and when I got to the "oops" part....Joel said, "Well, if that had been me spilling something like that I wouldn't have just said oops.  I would have done the honorable thing..."

Oh boy, I thought...here it comes...

"I would have pulled out my samurai sword and stabbed myself in the scro...wait a minute..."

"Sternum!" yelled Jeff. 

"Yeah," Joel laughed.  "I didn't think scrotum sounded right..."

So there you have it.  Just another blog post about Bob Marley's ghost, bathroom Santas, spewing syrup, and scrotum stabbings.  More holiday stories to come! We're just getting started over here...oh! And my birthday is on Wednesday.  I bought myself a present.  It's finally out and just in time for the holidays!  The new Red Hot Chili Peppers book! Woot!  Because what would the holidays be without a coffee table book with naked Flea pictures? Life is good.

We'd Like That With a Side of Geography and a Textbook Garnish, Please

Education.  It has been on my mind, lately.  I won't lie, going through the college application process has been tiresome and difficult - although I can see how so much of it will be easier for me the next time around - now that I have templates for transcripts worked out, and I know what goes into an academic portfolio, etc.  It will also be easier the next time around because I probably won't have another kid applying to music school, which has meant double the work (although Ellie and her piano teacher took care of the music resumes, etc....but we also had to send in copies of publicity pieces, recital and festival programs, etc, not to mention the pre-screening cd's).

So what does it mean to be educated?  It seems that it means you get a little piece of paper claiming that you're educated, despite the fact that it is well known that schools are spitting out illiterate kids at alarming rates.  They are also graduating completely literate kids, too, so don't think I'm totally trashing schools - I'm just pointing out that graduating from an accredited high school, in and of itself, isn't necessarily a huge academic accomplishment for most of us. 

One of the highly esteemed music schools where Ellie has applied, only asks for a high school transcript - not even an SAT score - for consideration.  Of course, there are also auditions and music resumes etc...but basically - if you graduated from an accredited high school that is all they need as academic proof that you're good to go, so to speak, for college life.  UNLESS...you're homeschooled.  Now I don't agree with this, but I kind of get it, because, you know, I put her transcript together, and I'm her mommy, so technically I could have lied about all of it because well....hmmm....still thinking about why I would want to say she could read and write if she couldn't...but anyway. 

If you're homeschooled, in addition to the highly suspicious homeschool transcript, this music school requires you to take an SAT test.  Even though the other kids don't have to take one.  And that's okay, too.  Really.  Taking the SAT is no big deal and most schools require that or the ACT for admittance.  So - homeschoolers have to take the SAT...got it....did it....scored well.  But then?  They also have to take two SAT II Subject tests.  Just the homeschoolers.  Nobody else even had to take the SAT.  So...did it...smoked it, in fact, with a nearly perfect score on Literature and super-dee-duperty high on the US History. But that wasn't enough, either.  Even though scoring really high should have proven that she could read and write at least as well as the schooled kids.  ACADEMIC PORTFOLIO, folks.  Torturesome, burdensome piece of business, unless you have been compiling one all along - something organized people do, I'm told - it is a big old pain in the rear.  Every course in every subject, complete with textbook titles, authors, publishers, and editions, DESCRIPTIONS of the course, what was covered, when, where, and by whom.  Four years of this.  And let's face it, with the exception of her community college courses she's been taking since the 8th grade - everything was done rather unconventionally - but had to be fit within conventional parameters in order to be considered credible or legitimate.

Ellie is mostly self, community, and family educated, in that order.  When you throw it all together, she ends up with more than enough credits, and way more "courses" than the average high school graduate.  But how do you say a kid "took" British Literature from this date to this date (and please keep it within one year or semester) when she has devoured British literature since 6th grade?  If you didn't actually say, "Today we're starting British literature, and we will finish British literature in 9 months," then did you actually take British literature?  And what about the textbook?  What if you didn't use a textbook?  Well, you could say that you didn't use a textbook - and up the suspicious nature of your portfolio by a bazillion percent...or you can order an Honors British Literature Textbook for a Lot of Money and you can give it to your kid and she can flip through it casually and say, "I've read most of these in their entirety, is it necessary for me to read the excerpts out of this book?"  That's right.  Small excerpts. 

The amount of actual literature in the literature book is minuscule in comparison to the amount of Total Bullshit in the literature book.  "Before You Read..." blabbedy blab..."Pre-Reading Ideas..." blabbedy blab... "Integrating Language Skills...including word analysis, spelling strategy, and a grammar lesson...let's talk about compound predicates here..and Style" blabbedy blag..."Writing Application, Extension Activities, Listening and Speaking..." AND "Analysis of a Literary Theme." NO WONDER KIDS HATE TO READ.

At the time I threw the textbook at Ellie, she was reading four books for pleasure. One was a George Eliot book, "George Eliot is SO FREAKING AMAZING, Mom!!" and a Kurt Vonnegut book, "Oh my god, mom, he is such a fabulous writer!" Anthony Trollope...one of the Oxford Classics...and a tattered and worn copy of Everything is Illuminated by Jonathan Safran Foer - she has read it countless times. On her nightstand rests Oscar Wilde and Sylvia Plath.  But, she didn't do any of the "work" mentioned in the textbook.  The only work she did was to absorb, enjoy, love, and assimilate the words into her soul.  But still, we chose a specific year, put it on a transcript and gave her a grade, as if British and American Literature were items on a to-do list instead of part of a rich and colorful life. 

She did memorize a bunch of terms, such as alliteration and personification, to spit out on her SAT Subject Test, and it took minimal time and effort but time and effort all the same, and she resented it.  It was time she could have been using to read a good book. 

Civics?  When did she take civics, they wanted to know.  Well, in 8th grade she formed her first humanitarian organization, appearing on television, organizing demonstrations, giving interviews to newspapers, and raising money to buy solar stoves and send medical aid to refugee camps in Chad. 

Later, she merged the organization into the first homeschooled STAND chapter in the US.  She marched in Washington, assisted in the Tents of Hope demonstration at the National Mall, lobbied legislators, and more.  She recently voted for the first time, and she volunteered for Obama's Campaign.  But when did she take Civics?  That is what they want to know.  And what textbook did she use and what were her scores?  Luckily, she has taken US Government and US History at the community college.  Luckily, we just so happen to have a Civics textbook on our coffee table, called Activists and Rebels.

I guess the frustrating thing is that the bigger part of my kids' educations, their lives and their interests, will always be just a mention here and there on the back burner of institutionalized education.  The very small percentage of their educations that involve textbooks and chapter summaries, will always have to be in the forefront, even though they are the least effective tools to administer and measure what constitutes an education, at least as it pertains to attaining a secondary education, and Ellie intends to earn a doctorate.

This brings me to Joel and his geography class. He might want to attend college in a couple of years, so we're trying to conventionalize his education. He's taking a distance learning geography class.  Geography should come easy to him.  He's an incredibly curious kid, and he loves reading non-fiction, particularly in relation to cultures and history.  He likes the textbook, and was quite happy to take it to his room and read it on his own the very day it came in. But then the Actual School Work started.  As in, read this, answer these questions (most of which are not answered in the reading assignment) and most importantly...draw and color pictures.  That's right.  He's 16, a head taller than me, and he's being required to draw and color pictures of things like boots, hats, and raincoats (what would you wear in a climate where it rains? draw and color a picture!).  There is lots of copying out of the book, lots of tracing pictures out of the book, and well, you get the idea.  Finding answers in the book is sometimes confusing because his teacher will often come close, but not quite hit the mark, to asking things in the same language as they're described in the book.  For example, she will often use words interchangeably, that are not really meant to be interchangeable.  Like, maybe they both start with the same letter or something, or they sound similar, but they're not the same. 

"Draw pictures of the Earth's Systems found on Page 141."  When you go to page 141, it says, "The Earths Structures." Structures? Systems? Are they the same?  Are we to assume they are the same?  And Joel's answer to everything is, "Why can't I just google it?"  Because Joel is a modern kid and when he wants to know something quickly, he googles it.  It makes sense.  That is the world he lives in.  Flipping through textbook pages to look up ambivalent words seems time-consuming and silly.  Of course, there are always those who argue that you need to be able to look things up!  But mostly?  People use the Internet to do it.  Why on earth wouldn't they? "Looking up things" is no longer a life skill.  Finding information IS a life skill, and today's kids know how to do it better than my generation did.  Hell, there's an app for that, right?

Luckily for Joel, he is extremely artistic and nothing makes him happier than drawing and coloring, even though drawing and coloring were Alarming Areas of Deficit according to his pre-school and kindergarten teachers.  Alarming!  In fact, I'm quite certain I should still be hysterical about it.  I have to keep an eye on him, (no - Joel - please don't say that desert attire consists of a speedo in your back pocket in case you happen upon an oasis - she wants you to draw a picture of a hat and you know it.) I have to explain directions and instructions to him because he has severe language processing issues (how many questions did she ask here, Joel?  Two?  How many did you answer?  One?  Do you see a problem with that? No? The other answer is obvious and you say you shouldn't have to write it down?  But you do.  Because you're not really learning geography, dude, you're learning how to follow instructions....).

Mostly?  This work is way beneath him.  It's way beneath what he normally does on his own regarding finding information about things that interest him.  He is finding it silly, for the most part.  And we're paying big bucks in order for him to do it, so that I can someday put it in a stinking academic portfolio....as opposed to admitting he's learned geography from his humanitarian work with his sister, his own reading (Joel never reads history or other works of non-fiction without looking at a globe - he just naturally wants to know where places are), and quite frankly, watching television.  You want to know about the earth's structures in relation to coal and diamonds?  Joel is a freaking expert and it is because he was completely enamoured with the Americus Diamond infomercial when he was 7.  The kid knows his diamonds, how they were formed, and how they're rated.  He has soaked up a lot of other mindless, yet interesting, information from similar sources.  He's learned very little from textbooks, and his current actual use of a textbook has done nothing to change that.

Now last week, I had become very stressed out from the college application process (UT Austin said they didn't get our transcript and we had to overnight one to them and overnight other things to other schools), and the boys were sleeping until noon and playing video games until 2:00 a.m....I was feeling as if I had failed my children.  I wasn't providing the education that they needed to jump through the college hoops - and here they were sleeping until noon and refusing to do the very few academic tasks I had suddenly asked of them.  I lost it.  I yelled.  And I threatened them with SCHOOL.  Camille started crying, Joel ignored me because I've done this before, Jules pulled the big Backfire Plug by saying he'd always wanted to ride in a school bus, and Jasper screamed, "What?  You want to send me to school?  But I'm not EDUCATED!!"  That was my point, but he was missing it. 

I calmed down.  Honestly, what were the odds I was even going to be awake when that school bus came by?  The mere thought of getting them ready for school was enough to put everything in perspective.  We'll jump through the hoops.  We'll look up words in the book, even though we could find them faster, and with better explanations and possibly videos, on the Internet.  I'll try to fit in interests on a transcript within a specific semester, and label them as courses.  The boys are getting up earlier, we've made a schedule, they're currently sticking close to it...and you know why?  Not because they think it is enhancing their educations, but because they think it is making my life easier and relieving some of my anxiety.  Because they're sweet boys, that's why.

The two little ones are doing whatever they want - I refuse to make them do otherwise because, so far, no college has asked for a first grade transcript. 

At this moment, I have a 16-year-old who is building an impressive pirate/whaling ship out of Popsicle sticks.  This is for Odyssey of the Mind, and their skit is based on Moby Dick, so he's read Moby Dick and watched an old movie from Netflix.  He can now say dick without laughing, but he still can't keep a straight face.  He's probably on hour four with the ship building.  I have a 12-year-old making a seagull...started with a dirty sock and some plastic grocery bags and I didn't think it was going to amount to anything but guess what?  I think once he gets the feathers on, it is going to be a rocking awesome seagull...something else to do with Odyssey.  I have an 8-year-old who just made a patchwork coat using scraps of fabric, and then she and her little brother finished working on a log cabin they began making several months ago.  Ellie, as she so often is these days, is out and about doing her own thing. In between all of this, there is guitar playing, menu-making (Camille is into playing restaurant), clothes folding, Dickens reading (we're reading A Christmas Carol out loud because I freaking love to do that), recipe searches (Joel's making vegetarian lasagna while I'm at ballet tonight with Camille), script-writing (more Odyssey), video watching, and yes, alien-shooting via the XBox.  There have been religious discussions this morning, and philosophical discussions, as well.  There has been a lot of joking and at the moment, someone is singing while someone else laughs hysterically.  And I just heard a bad word. 

All in all?  It's education.  That's what we're serving up over here.  And the textbooks?  Not even a side dish.  More like a useless garnish to make us look better. Because making us look better is what it's all about, folks.