Hangin' Out in Texarkana

It was exactly a week ago today that I embarked on yet another Odyssey odyssey.....jumped in the van and hauled a trailer and 7 teenagers to Michigan State University so they could compete in the Odyssey of the Mind World Tournament. And today? I am sitting in a hotel in Texarkana (Texas side) where I shall sleep like a dead person until approximately 5:00 am and then get up and kick the teenagers repeatedly until they sleepwalk to the van so we can drive HOME! Woot! The other carload of us kept on driving today - they will be home in the middle of the night. I think they tired of our endless pee stops and souvenir spoon-buying stops and our stopping to appreciate the awesome variety of vending machine retail goods on display in truck stop bathrooms. We can't imagine why anyone wouldn't want to hang around with us for like what...one more day? Wimps.

So I would love to tell you about the tournament and how the kids did but that would entail pictures and way more energy than I have at the moment. Let me just say that they did GREAT even though they are not technically world champions and even though their vehicle did technically break down during the competition. I CAN finally tell you what their human-powered vehicle was like, though. I wasn't allowed to talk about it before the competition but I am now totally Free to Discuss the Vehicle. Which was powered by a rocking awesome homemade sit-n-spin, by the way. I know! Way cool! A sit-n-spin. Joel was the driver because he was the only one who was strong enough to spin who wasn't prone to motion sickness. Anyway - tons of fun - tons of camaraderie - tons of lovely nice wonderful people from all over the freaking world (our buddy team was from Singapore), and with the exception of the women in the pink capes who refused to move when we pointed out that they were in our seats at the awards ceremony, it was just a very group-love type of a weeklong event.

It was hot in Michigan. Hot like Texas hot only IN TEXAS WE HAVE AIR CONDITIONING. Geeze. I walked around Michigan very tired, very hot and sweaty and red in the face with curly hair because Ellie kept stealing the flat iron even though she doesn't use it to actually straighten her already pretty much straight hair, but rather, she just likes to get the wrinkles out. Also? My feet swelled. I mean they really swelled. This was unusual. This was uncomfortable. This was concerning. But the silver lining is that my big gordita feet attracted attention and then people would invariably say, "Wow! What a pretty tattoo! Is it real?" And I would say, "Why, yes it is! Thank you!" while wagging my five little vienna sausage-like appendages in front of their admiring eyes. I am still swollen. I think it is a combination of my being fat and old. I think if I were merely fat, or merely old, I would be okay. It is the combination of the two that is doing me in. Something about riding in a car for a zillion and a half hours and then walking in the heat for more zillions of hours and then riding in a car for another zillion and a half hours.....I gotta lose weight and get younger. No problem.

No time for all that, though. A Total World Tournament Story will follow when I get home. A picture of the sit-n-spin human-powered vehicle with the crane and front-end loader will be posted later. For now? I have to unload about LOST. What was up with that???? God. I stayed up late the night before I had to freaking drive to Michigan just to watch it and FOR WHAT?

You know, the entire time I was a LOST fan I had a little sneaking idea in the back of my mind that it was all going to end up being like a Haruki Murakami novel. Haruki Murakami is my favorite Japanese novelist. I read his books over and over again. They are awesome. They are page-turners. They have beautiful, quirky characters who stay with me for years. And they make no freaking sense whatsoever. Every time I read one I'm like, "this will start to be explained in the next chapter." Then I say it after the next chapter. And then eventually I notice that there are like totally way more pages on the left side of the book than the right, kind of like sands in an hour glass; and I suspect that maybe, just maybe, Haruki's gonna do it to me again and I'm not going to get any kind of explanation as to the previous 400 or so pages. Dang. I hate it when that happens.

Anyway, it turns out I was right. LOST was winding down with very little chance of a satisfactory ending - I was getting kind of nervous - and then it happened. It totally effing happened (by the way - that reminds me - on our trip we stopped for a potty break in Effingham) and I was like WHAT? Dudes, the Sixth Sense thing worked with the Sixth Sense because we didn't see it coming. This time? It was just a cheap trick. Also? When did they die? On the island? Was the plane in the ocean really full of their dead bodies and then the island was some kind of Purgatory? Or did they die later? If the island was supposedly real - then NOTHING WAS EXPLAINED. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. I am totally mad about this.

I'm going to go to bed. I'm going to sleep well for two reasons. One: I am so exhausted that I am already pretty much asleep. Two: I know that while I am sleeping you will be feverishly typing out your LOST explanations. I REALLY NEED to understand LOST so I can put the endless hours I wasted while watching it into some kind of perspective.

Signing Off as the Sardine Mama With Trail Dust on her Puffy Feet

Where's the Passion?

Before we get to the passion stuff that caught your eye (I'm tricky that way, no?) let me do a little recap since this blog is really my personal journal of sorts and it's not my fault that you guys choose to read it in its entirety. But I totally get why you do it - I really do. I mean, it's read blogs versus do the laundry or whatever evil task normally looms over you - (lots of people like to theorize about good and evil...good is God....God is love....evil is the absence of love....Satan is loneliness and isolation yada yada yada...for ME? Lucifer is a smoldering mountain of laundry waiting to be exorcised).


So. Let's start with Mother's Day - also known as The Most Disappointing Day of the Year. It sucked. It was one of those deals where Jeff came home after a 2-week trip and wasn't really prepared for Mother's Day and I knew the offspring hadn't really been prepping for the event so I resentfully said (the night before Mother's Day) we'll do it next weekend or something and then they all went HOORAY WE DON'T HAVE TO DO IT TOMORROW and that like totally pissed me off.


So I enjoyed sulking on Mother's Day and then topped it off with a trip to the cemetery because Holy Crap What Would A Holiday Be Without A Visit To the Freaking Graveyard? It was fine. It fit my mood. I sat by my mom's grave thinking that someday nobody would be sitting by my grave seeing as how they would all be too busy to bother (I'm REALLY good at sulking and wallowing in self-pity) and telling my sister that nobody had gotten me anything for Mother's Day and enjoying her appropriate response and the resulting guilt-ridden expressions on my children's and husband's faces and seriously - that really is better than a card.


So my dad was sitting on my mom's tombstone talking about cement or something with Jeff - when he suddenly keeled over. Like Totally Keeled Over. We were all just stunned. I mean, he certainly looked Entirely Dead and there he lay, right over his own grave next to where my mom is buried and so I quickly jumped into action and ran to the van....my sister thought I was going to call an ambulance but really I was just planning on leaving because I AM NOT A GOOD PERSON TO HAVE AROUND IN AN EMERGENCY. Ask anybody.


Jeff ran to Dad's side and kind of shook him and Dad responded like your typical dead person. Jeff spoke to him and again, Dead Man Talking kind of response. And I thought to myself that this was just typical - he couldn't die in a normal place like a bed or something - no way - this was going to be The Story of how Great Great Great Grandpa died right there on his own grave....sheesh....why can't we do anything like everyone else and now my Mother's Day was Seriously and Entirely Ruined not just this year but FOREVER. And then? A holiday miracle. Right before he suffered the humiliation of mouth to mouth with my husband, he was resurrected and simply said, "I'm okay," as if he had just accidentally bumped his head on a chandelier or something. Then he wanted to know why everyone was staring at him.


We don't know what happened - I thought that with the cement talk he'd maybe bored himself to death but he's been checked out by 3 doctors - apparently he just fainted like a girl. I thanked him for not dying in the cemetery on Mother's Day and he was like, "No problem. See? It was a good Mother's Day after all."


He was right. In retrospect it rather was.


But it got better because my husband's niece sent me a card and then one of Ellie's piano students made me a card and my children were truly and properly shamed by the non-immediate family members and semi-strangers giving me cards. Awesome.


Onto other events since the previous post....Part II of the Piano Family Visit from An Apology. They are brave souls and came back for another lesson. I was totally prepared, fully clothed, etc. And while making polite chit chat from the kitchen I noticed their faces going pale and then their expressions turn to utter disgust and I followed their gazes towards the Gosh Dang Wiener Dog who was not unconsciously pooping but was, in fact, eating a pile of her own vomit. UGH. GROSS. I apologized even though it wasn't really my fault in any way - or even the dog's for that matter - and then I ran for the van because I am NOT GOOD AROUND VOMIT. Ask anybody.


Over the weekend Ellie played at a Ragtime Festival in San Antonio. She is a classical musician but the organizer of the event heard her play Chopin at a faculty recital of a local college where she was a guest artist, and he asked her if she happened to know any rags to play. She did and she was really happy to participate. She played in the afternoon at El Mercado, the Mexican market in downtown San Antonio. I noticed that Ragtime pianists perform with their backs to the audience. That was new for me. Ellie said Lizst is the one who changed that for classical pianists. Anyway, the other musicians took Ellie out for dinner while our family went to Mi Tierra for dinner, which is my favorite Mexican place in San Antonio.


Mi Tierra is huge and old and totally over-the-top. It is a tourist attraction but at any given time more than half of the diners are locals. It's open 24 hours a day and has the best breakfasts ever. We sat in my favorite room, the Mural Room. Several walls are solid murals of famous Mexicans (thereby proving what I've long suspected; I do not live in Arizona. If you live in Arizona, by the way, I'm kind of just kidding). How could you not dig it? Carlos Santana, Flaco Ximenez, Freida, and Archbishop Patrick Flores all on one wall! There is also a huge portrait of Selena and the one and only gringo in the place, Bill Clinton. In Clinton's portrait he is jogging while wearing a Mi Tierra t-shirt.


That night Ellie played at a concert for the Ragtime Festival and she wowed them. They were really nice people and a fun and appreciative audience for her. They came from all over the place and were just NUTS for Ragtime. The next night Ellie played at a classical recital and wowed that audience, too. If you want to hear what she played, and if you can sit through the very very very very slow 3rd movement to get to the insanely exciting 4th movement (can you tell I like the 4th movement?) you can go here. Same song, different recital.


So about the passion business. The Ragtime Festival got me to thinking about how there are just people everywhere into everything you can imagine. I mean literally any old crazy thing you can think of - there is an association or a group or a fan club that is nuts over it. Right now it seems as if all of my friends are finding new passions. One friend is a yoga freak, another is addicted to running, yet another is a human rights activist. I'm not into anything. "Well, you don't have time," people say. And maybe that's true but it's not the point. The point is that there isn't even anything I'm interested in! I'm not a birdwatcher or a stargazer, or a collector of miniature ponies or an avid gardener or ventriloquist. Nada, zilch, zip. This girl has no hobby. Writing, you say? You said it. I heard you. Well, I'm not passionate about writing. I'm not even passionate about this blog. For the most part, when I write or blog I simply feel guilty about all of the other things I should be doing. Also? The fiction writing I've been doing is freaking HARD. It seems like it would be fun but it is Just Hard. And then there's the whole ego thing involved in writing....does my writing suck? Will I ever publish fiction like a Real Writer? When you're into miniature poodles there really isn't any ego risk involved, you know? Writing is a difficult and often painful thing that I'm driven to do but I wouldn't necessarily call it relaxing.


Okay - I know what you're going to say next. Parenting! That's a hobby! Well - it was at one time. That sounds bad. It isn't as if I'm no longer into parenting. I totally am. But when all the kids were little I was INTO Attachment Parenting and it was indeed a sort of hobby. I could talk AP with other AP-types (and we are a type) and it was just thrilling and awesome. The Natural Parenting Business? Ditto. I was in heaven talking about cloth diapering, extended and exclusive breastfeeding, and natural childbirth for HOURS. I read about it for HOURS. I wrote about it for HOURS. Now? I'm kinda past that. While I'm happy to share information with people, I'm not passionate about it. I no longer think EVERYONE SHOULD BE DOING IT! If you pull out a bottle in front of me, I will not gasp.


And what about homeschooling you say? Ahhhh....homeschooling. It is like breathing for me now. Again, I am past the point where I want to drool over curriculum catalogs or spend time talking about how rocking awesome it is with other people who like talking about how rocking awesome it is. After 8 years, it is just what we do. The honeymoon is over in the homeschooling department - we're into the homestretch.


All of these things that have to do with my family and our lifestyle are important to me - they make me who I am....but dangit - don't I need a hobby? I mean all I look forward to is LOST and that's coming to a big old probably unsatisfactory end tomorrow. Pitiful, ain't it?


While you're all busy thinking up hobbies for me let me just remind you that I am in fact a Saint and a Goddess and a Person to be Admired because I am driving the teenage Odyssey team to Michigan for the World Tournament. I said driving. In our big bus. Pulling an antiques trailer on loan. In case you don't know, Michigan is officially a LONG ASS DRIVE from Texas. We're leaving on Monday so I need suggestions as to some good books to listen to on tape. No vampire porn because I don't want to make the teenagers all squirmy and blushy and disgusted and stuff. So something interesting for me (no kiddie books) that won't corrupt the innocents.


Thanking you in advance, I'm signing off as the Totally Passionless But Not Sure I Care All That Much Sardine Mama

An Apology

Ellie teaches piano lessons here several times a week. And I always know when the students are coming and so we try not to be in our underwear, or have our underwear on the floor, or have excessive amounts of general, non-underwear related mayhem going on. It is tough but I usually manage to pull it off.

But on Friday a family came for piano lessons who doesn't normally come for piano lessons and if Ellie had told me about it I hadn't heard her and so (gasp) we were caught in our totally natural and embarrassingly unrestrained habitat. To that family? I would like to sincerely apologize.

1. I apologize that the front door was barricaded by a tacky fence. The fence is intended to keep the dementia-suffering wiener dog from continuing to destroy the molding around the edge of our front door while causing her little paws to bleed from scratching endlessly.

2. I apologize that the back door was blocked by a baby gate, the purpose of which is the same as the tacky fence across the front door.

3. I apologize for the two ice chests, several pairs of skates, green light saber, and overturned bike that were also blocking the back door.

4. I apologize for the bird poop that you had to step over after you managed to get over the baby gate. It has piled up next to the back door - but did you see the cute baby barn swallows peeping over the edge of their nest?

5. I apologize that I didn't hear you when you finally made it across the threshold of the back door and into my hallway, the one right outside my bedroom.

6. I apologize for the fact that you were startled by me, my ultra-white and only paritially hairless legs, and a very noisy epilator when you looked into my bedroom. I don't normally perform grooming rituals in front of strangers.

7. I apologize for the fact that I was wearing my husband's bleach-stained ACDC t-shirt - the one sporting a youthful Angus Young sprouting demonic horns from his head while snarling. Despite what you may have heard in the homeschooling circles, and despite the demonic image on my t-shirt, we are not Satan worshipers.

8. I apologize for the underwear sprinkled on the couch and floor of the living room. It was clean. I promise. I know because I collected it, washed it, dried it, and even stupidly folded it and left it on the couch in neat little stacks. I am, however, currently on strike in regards to actually delivering it into the drawers of its owners, none of whom, by the way, are suffering from broken legs.

9. I apologize for the fact that instead of my daughter playing Chopin in our den, you found my son playing totally non-Christian Black Sabbath riffs on his electric guitar, thereby possibly strengthening any small and fledgling suspicions about the Satan worship business. Let me just say that I don't like Black Sabbath or Ozzy Osbourne very much - although I did indeed see the Crazy Train Tour in 1982. And if Ozzy worships Satan, I'm not sure Satan is aware of it because Ozzy, due to previous years of drug abuse, seems unable to form coherent sentences. If Ozzy is talking to Satan, Satan is like, "Huh?" My son doesn't talk to Satan. He just likes to play Iron Man and I'm pretty sure he's not having any spiritual reflections whatsoever while doing so.

10. I apologize for the fact that my son unplugged his guitar, said, "Excuse me," and then STEPPED OVER THE DOG POOP ON THE FLOOR on his way out of the room to find his sister.

11. I apologize for the fact that you could smell the dog poop and am grateful for the fact that you apparently missed stepping on it by mere millimeters.

12. I apologize for the fact that when Ellie emerged, she screamed, "Joel come pick up the dog poop!!" instead of saying, "Hello, how lovely to see you. Welcome to our home."

13. I apologized if she cursed.

14. I apologize for the fact that Joel refused to pick up the dog poop.

15. I apologize for the fact that your children's lessons were then delayed while Ellie angrily picked up the dog poop.

16. I apologize if she cursed.

17. I apologize PROFUSELY for the fact that there was dog poop on the floor in the first place.

18. I apologize for the apparent lack of surprise over the poop on the part of my family. There was a time when dog poop on the floor disgusted us as much as it does you. But since the ailing wiener dog has no feeling in her lower extremities and pretty much wanders around my house dropping poo balls unawares, we have become used to it. You'd be surprised at what you can get used to.

19. I apologize for letting the ailing wiener dog in the house in the first place, seeing as how so much effort has gone into fortifying the perimeter of the house (as you so well discovered)against her entrance. My husband, also known as the Perimeter Enforcer, was out of town. The dog whines and cries and it is just dang pitiful.

20. I apologize for whatever may have happened after I left to go pick up my husband from the airport. I realize that this final apology might encompass a rather long list of offenses of which I am thankfully ignorant.

Please come back another time. Seriously. We welcome visitors. Just give us another chance. We're a totally different family when we're expecting you.

Signing Off as A Truly Remorseful Sardine Mama

Taking Stock in this Texas School

So this is the week that Texas public schools have been taking stock....via the TAKS test. I know you're thinking this is just an intro for a rant on standardized testing but it isn't. (I'll give you 1 try to figure out what my take on that is, by the way....) The whole "Oh my God it's TAKS week!!!" panic that has been spreading like wildfire among my friends and acquaintances and relatives who are teachers and/or parents has seeped over to me and I'm like, "Oh my God it's TAKS week and there is nobody who has a clue or who is attempting to have a clue as to what my kids possibly know or don't know...which can't be much because holy crap LOOK AT THEM they're just sitting here playing video games and watching horrible stuff on You Tube...how smart could they possibly be? Just call Child Protective Services right now and get it over with!!"
Actually, if CPS were to come by this would be a good week to do it (as long as they stay out of 2, possibly 3, rooms and as long as they don't ask jasper any questions). This week our unschool-house has been rather school-ish, if I do say so myself. And I do.

What led to this, you ask? Well, first of all - we've had NO ODYSSEY this week. Woot! This has opened up loads and loads of time. Also? Joel is going through more testing for his learning disabilities (he hasn't been tested since he was 7 and it is recommended that we have recent test results if he's going to ask for any special assistance for things like the SAT, etc) and I realized that I really need to at least get the kid somewhat familiar with structure if he really is going to try to get into college yada yada....and sometimes I just like to play school. Also also? Camille has been in the mood to play school so I wanted to jump on that while it lasted.

So. As far as school goes - we didn't participate in a co-op this year. And Ellie didn't take any dual-credit classes this semester. So basically, she hasn't been doing much but piano and studying for the SAT. She's already scored high enough on the SAT to get into every school she's interested in, but she's very competitive and wants to do better and better and better....so she's been studying. She's also learning to crochet and has produced a variety of scarves and hats. Her little hats are perfect, her stitches are all perfect and tight and uniform and her teacher was like, "Wow! These are so uniform and perfect and.....well, wow." I'm not entirely sure she meant it as a compliment, I think she might have seen it as an indication of constipation or of something being psychologically askew but Ellie practically saluted and said, "Thank you, comrade." OK. She didn't call Lodi her comrade. But she did say thank you like a Russian would say thank you to a coach after having performed a perfect vault in the Olympics. So yeah, the kid has been perfectly crocheting. She's still on Spring Break from Spanish, but she's already way past where the average high school kid gets in Spanish...(thanks, Michi!). Biology has been on hold since her Grandpa broke his leg but he needs to get back in the teaching saddle because honestly, how long is an 81-year-old supposed to lie around whining about his broken arm and broken leg? Tough love, baby.

So Ellie is my little slacker this semester and I think it is funny. She is a "by the book" kid, though. So she's already comprised a list of what she needs to "take" in order to "graduate" next year. When I point out that she already knows a lot about World History and Economics she's like, "but I haven't TAKEN them!" So she shall take them. Through community college. And she shall learn nothing that she doesn't already know and she shall get all A's and she shall be very happy.

I made a schedule for Joel, Jules, and Camille. We say schedule like "shedule," by the way. Because we like to talk fancy. Anyway, so this week I got everyone up at 7:30 which is very early for us. We did grammar (Easy Grammar - I love it) and math. We use Teaching Textbooks for math. I have discovered that I need to sit with Joel while he does his algebra, which is a bummer. But otherwise, he misses problems and just keeps going until it snowballs into a "let's go back to THE VERY FIRST FREAKING CHAPTER and see what you don't understand, shall we?" and it is really hard for me to keep my voice pleasant when I have to say that so close to the end of the school year.

As far as history, mythology, and the classics go....the boys know everything. Everything! Every time I try to teach them something or read them something they spout off with, "I've heard of this...." and then they tell me everything I was just about to "teach" them. I'm not kidding, by the way. They know some crazy stuff. Sometimes they correct me or fill me in on the latest theory. Joel loves Greek Mythology and we are doing some Great Books work in it but it is nothing but a review for him. Where do they learn this stuff? Well, they see it on NOVA and on PBS specials and when watching the History Channel or Discovery at my Dad's (we don't have any extra channels). I'm also quite ashamed to say that listed among their sources of information are Sponge Bob and for Joel...don't judge me.....Family Guy and Southpark....I know enough to be embarrassed by this but you'd be surprised how often joel says, "Peter was talking about this with Brian and then......laugh laugh laugh....." So there you have it. But honestly, the talking dog named Brian can't do any worse with my kid than the Texas State Board of Education, right? RIGHT??

Jules pulled out his science book, recently. It is some grade-appropriate schoolish book and we made it through about 2 chapters before he said, "This is dumb. I know all of this stuff already." I didn't give up, though. Because we are doing school this week. So I said, "No way, dude. You are going to get in here and do this pointless crossword puzzle on reptiles even if it takes all day, okay?" The problem is that I said it out loud and heard myself. He'd been counting on that. I did the crossword puzzle, though. It was fun. And Jules does know way more than the little science book chapters touched on. And he learned it when it was relevant and interesting and so he'll probably retain it. Like his brother, he is a history and classics geek - can tell you the Greek or Latin root word and meaning of almost anything. Oh and btw? God help me, the kid found out about the Gulf of Mexico Oil Spill. He is sick over it. Talking about it. Worried about how it is going to affect the turtle population. Did I mention talking about it? Poor baby. This is one of the less fun quirks of Asperger's. Jules is having a hard time putting it in perspective...well, actually maybe he's not. It is a HUGE TRAGEDY. I guess I should say he's having a hard time living with it from his particular position, from where he can do practically nothing about it. But talk about it. And worry about the turtles and the effect the spill might have on local sushi selections. I did say he's talking about it, right? 'Cause he is.

Camille is now an independent reader! She goes everywhere with a little paperback in her hands. Nothing too advanced, but she likes having a book in her possession and that will always be a good thing. The deal in our house is that Jeff reads her junk (they love Nancy Drew) and I read her the good stuff (classics). She asked me to read her the Iliad because Jules had been telling her all of the stories. So I started to read the book we have and after each paragraph I stop and do a little recap so she knows what's happening. She knows what's happening. She's like, "Yeah, yeah, yeah....this is the part where Athene shows up as an old guy and fools Telemachus....keep reading we're getting to a good part." Also? Jules's renewed, although short-lived, interest in his science book made Camille want to do science. Now we "did" science last year in co-op with the Little Scientist series (which is great by the way). But Camille wanted a "real" book so I ordered one. It is called Read and Understand Science Grades 2-3. It came in today. She ripped it open and said, "What? I KNOW ALL THIS STUFF!!" And I looked inside and yes indeedie....she knows all that stuff. How seeds travel....how we revolve around the sun (the State of Texas hasn't denied that one yet....YET)....metamorphisis....magnets....gravity...yada, yada, yada. All I could say was, "Oooh, look! Crossword puzzles and word searches, too! Quick, what's an 8-letter word for a person who invents something?" Answer: Roll eyes and stomp off saying, "I thought this was going to be a REAL science book." I'm not sure what she wants as a second-grader....astro-physics, maybe?

Jasper, you will be thrilled to know (especially if you are tiring of reading all of this) is still my kindergarten dropout. Not interested in any of this nonsense in the slightest.

So I guess, on the surface, we look pretty much like any other school. We're a building full of know-it-all kids who way outnumber the adults, reading the occasional book with too many words and too little substance. But when you look beneath the surface, well, that's when you'll see what really matters and what makes us different. It isn't what we don't do (so we don't do a lot of textbooks, we don't take tests, we don't have set schedules...) that matters. It is what we DO do....during the quiet times and the busy times and the endless times spent waiting. Because we spend a lot of time talking, sharing, and laughing. We notice stuff. We consider stuff. We argue about stuff. We have goals, we have dreams, and we have TIME. We have time to really investigate the things that interest us. We have time to figure out what it is we want to do (or not do). We have time to experience the outdoors on beautiful days instead of being stuck in a classroom. In short, we have time to be together.

If that was all we got out of homeschooling....time to be together....it would be enough to justify it all for me. Most of the time, anyway. Because sometimes? That yellow bus presents me with a mighty fine temptation.

Signing Off as Headmistress Sardine Mama

Shall We Get Reaquainted? I Think We Shall!

It has been a while since my last post. In fact, I think this is the longest I've ever gone without posting. So now it is kind of like calling a friend you really haven't talked to in a long time....too much to say in a short conversation and no time to have a longer one.

Don't let that scare you, though. I have decided on a recap rather than the intricately detailed and somewhat painful sagas to which you've become accustomed.

I'm actually going to do a bullet list. A bullet list! So truly, this is not going to be a novella or anything like that. Just a list of 10 things that have happened or that I'm thinking about. I shall spare you my contemplations about why I've been feeling so blah lately - about how I get to the end of the day (every day) and look around and realize I haven't accomplished anything. I could write about how I'm currently feeling very overwhelmed by the house, the laundry, the garden, the yard, and the lack of time to do some homeschooling activities the way I'd like to do them. I could go on about how I feel that everyone else's needs and desires come before my own, or about how I sometimes feel as if there is no "me" left. About how the little ones won't stop talking to me and making me the center of their relative universes and the older ones are talking less and creating their own universes that definitely do NOT revolve around me and about how the middle kid is such a stereotypical middle kid that I don't even know where his universe is, sometimes. But that would be a downer.

Instead I will get on with the bullet list. I bet I scared you there for awhile, didn't I?

1. EASTER. We did it. Sorta. We hunted eggs and then we went over to my dad's for Passover (even though Passover was technically over - we obviously don't pay attention to a lot of rules and bylaws of holidays). Jules is on the left, Joel is flirting with a garden gnome, Camille is being her wiggly jiggly giggly self, Ellie is trying to remain composed among the general mayhem, and the guy on the right is not Angus Young - just Jasper's version of "dressed up".

2. WYSONG JOPLIN PIANO COMPETITION. Went to McKinney, Texas (just north of Dallas)for it. Ellie won it. She won $1,000.00 to be specific. It was a lovely competition....they treat the finalists like royalty with a reception and recitals and food and other comforts. Ellie even had a "patron" whose gorgeous home served as a practice facility and calm and peaceful place of preparation. The judge is the head of the piano department at Eastman School of Music, one of the schools Ellie is interested in. So it was a good weekend and we had some awesome mother/daughter time. Stayed at a Hilton Garden in Allen and enjoyed service beyond belief.

3. ODYSSEY OF THE MIND STATE TOURNAMENT. We went to Houston for it. The high school team I coached came in 1st place AND won a Ranatra Fusca for extreme creativity. Now they will advance to the World Finals in Michigan. Super exciting and awesome. The middle school team placed 4th and had a great time. We stayed at a Hilton Garden and were treated like crap. This would require an entire post to itself and I am SO RESISTING THE URGE TO DO IT RIGHT HERE AND NOW UNTIL YOUR EYES GLAZE OVER.

This is the high school team.

This is the middle school team. I asked 9 Texans if she got any pics where they didn't all look like Children of the Corn and she said, "got nothin' but ax murderers in my pics...." I think they were trying to look logical or something (Jules plays Mr. Spock)....or maybe they are all going to come and kill me in my sleep. Hard to tell. 4. PROM. Ellie went. With her friend, Cody, who is one of Grilled Cheese Chick's shaggy boys (not pictured above - duh), and Katie, who is 9 Texan's kid and is pictured above. The girls are beautiful! She had a great time. Yes, she is homeschooled and yes, there is a homeschool prom, put on by a Christian homeschool cooperative. They invite all homeschooled 11th and 12th graders, even if they're not members of the cooperative (we're not)or they're not Christian (we're not). That makes them lovely people and I should really write a note to someone telling them how grateful I am that they go to all this trouble every year to provide all these kids with a truly exceptional prom experience. The theme was Phantom of the Opera and the location was a pretty ritzy country club. It included a really nice buffet where they wasted a ton of shrimp on unappreciative non-shrimp eaters such as my vegetarian kid and her vegetarian date. They had the organ playing the Phantom Theme and spectacular decorations.

5. I am EXHAUSTED and there will be nooooo break for for another few weeks. And instead of Odyssey being over....I will be preparing for the humongous drive from Texas to Michigan with 6 teenagers and a u-haul full of their stuff. The World Tournament is an experience of a lifetime, though. Joel has never been and he is thrilled beyond words. Ellie's been twice, but she is thrilled for Joel. She says it will be fun because it will be like doing it for the first time (through Joel's eyes). I'm going to miss Camille's ballet demonstration while I'm in Michigan and my heart is broken into a zillion pieces over this. Jeff is just hoping he can figure out how to get her hair in a bun.

6. Some guy offered us $400 if we let him harvest our wildflower seeds from our front pasture. He says it will not reduce our wildflower show next spring - hope he's right.

7. I'm rooting for Casey on American Idol.

8. I'm tired of facebook status updates being about Obama and people praying for his death. I'm not going into it but Cheesy did and you can read it on her blog.

9. I started working out again and it felt really great and then I quit and now I don't want to start up because it has been long enough that it will feel like starting over. I have to do something soon or my breasts are going to require their own zip code.

10. There are lots of reasons why I homeschool and the state of Texas has recently given me more. You can read them HERE. Sometimes I'm amused by the craziness of Texas, and sometimes a tad bit proud of its continuing quest to be the wackiest state in the union (or out of the union since some of us want to secede and some of us think we never really joined up).
But sometimes? I'm just embarrassed.
Signing Off as a Pooped Sardine Mama

Birthdays and Bluebonnets

The consensus on the census is that it is poorly worded. And racially inadequate. And in my case, rather anticlimactic at the end. Because at the end, it just provided places for names and birthdays....none of the racial questions or such nonsense.....like they were saying, "Sorry - we just don't care, anymore." Which is so sad because isn't that how it goes for these "last kids?" You know, they're the ones who get by without baby books, huge birthday parties, hand sewn Halloween costumes, and baby swimming lessons because Mom says, "That stuff was all rather silly and time-consuming, now wasn't it?" And then you fill out the census and by the time you get to the 5th kid it says, "All those other questions were rather silly and time-consuming.....just jot down the name real quick...there now....good enough!"

But WHAT IF my last child was fathered by a Native American or an Irish Samoan or a Hispanic Norwegian or combination thereof? Ha! Now I guess you'll never know, will you Census People? That's right, I'm sticking it to the man. Possibly. I'll never tell.

Now then - for your viewing pleasure - I'd like to present pics from our front pasture. Enjoy our Texas Wildflowers....wish you could smell them. Our fields are mostly Indian Paintbrushes and Bluebonnets (state flower). And the best part? Is that pretty much all the fields around us look the same way or more spectacular. When we're driving along the country roads we take to get to various lessons and activities....we can tell by the brake lights of the car up ahead that we might be coming to a particularly lovely spot. Some of the fields literally take your breath away! Our field ranks up there (people are taking pics out here every day) but it definitely isn't the prettiest we've seen.

Now onto Stage 2 of the post (stage 3 if you count the census nonsense at the beginning). Jasper turned 6 on Tuesday!! And I was prepared for the usual gang-o-kids to come over and grind cupcakes into the one area rug I own. But then Jasper surprised me by saying he'd rather go out to eat.

Because I already feel badly that his parties do, in fact, pretty much consist of little boys grinding cupcakes instead of the humongous orchestrated themed things his siblings enjoyed, I was like, "Are you sure? I don't mind. Really. It will be fun!!!" And inside I was secretly relieved because Monday is the Day That Everyone Comes Over because Ellie teaches piano all morning and then all the Odyssey teams are here for the rest of the day and Tuesdays are kind of my recovery days.

But Jasper assured me by saying, "My friends annoy me!! Why would I want them here on my birthday?"

It is hard to argue with that. And Jasper is easily annoyed. He pretty much wants to sit on the ground and play with his Legos or stuffed animals in peace. He does have a couple of really cute little guys who like to hang with him, and he does consider them his friends, but like Ellie, he really doesn't feel the need to be plastered to anybody socially. He's a loner, pure and simple.

His little friend, Ben, is the kid he likes the most. He's also the kid who irritates him the most. In Jasper's defense, Ben's typical facial expression is identical to Jack Nicholson's when he bursts through the bathroom door with an ax in The Shining. In Ben's defense, it is extremely entertaining to watch Jasper when he's irritated.

Jeff took the afternoon off of work and we headed to the San Antonio Riverwalk to celebrate Jasper's birthday. By the way - check out how peaceful this tourist attraction is. Yeah Baby! One more thing to love about homeschooling! The Riverwalk on a Tuesday afternoon before school has let out and the tourist season has begun.....nice. Nobody got knocked into the river by a guayabera-wearing man wielding a light-up margarita bong. That would have annoyed / irritated the holy bejeezus out of Jasper, believe me.

Finally, here is the Birthday Boy Himself at the Rainforest Cafe, home of the world's most expensive microwavable food....where you can order the exact same convenience food you currently have sitting in your own freezer and pay out the a$$ for it because of the dancing gorilla behind you. We don't do stuff like this very often - but Jasper had like the best day of his life so yeah....thanks for the frozen pizza, Rainforest Cafe! Sorry we only ordered water, by the way. Really. I. Am. Because I would have enjoyed a $15 watered-down wine margarita.

So The Baby is six. But he is definitely still The Baby. And I sincerely worry for his future partner....if he chooses to accept one. To her I'd like to say, "I did the best I could. Mostly, anyway. Because I got pretty tired there near the end. Just do what he says and nobody should get hurt....Also? He might be half Korean Puerto Rican."

Signing off as Jasper's Sardine Mama.....Always

The Dead, the Living, and the Breeding Heart...Sounds a Little Like a Zombie Movie. But it's not.

So I have this thing for cemeteries.

I love cemeteries. Not the sterile, modern cemeteries where all the markers match....I like the ones where every tombstone is different from the next. I REALLY like the old cemeteries where I can wander around looking at the names and dates and imagine what was going on in the world during that person's lifetime.

Cemeteries are the best sources of baby names. Of course, you'd hate to tell your kid you named him Ezra because of some dead guy you never knew, but what the heck, right? After all, I have one kid named after a fictional paleontologist (I was reading Jurassic Park while I was pregnant with her), and one kid named after the Northern Exposure character, Joel Fleishman. That reminds me, by the way; I really need to make up some false circumstances to explain their names. Quick! Give me a really famous true-life scientist or explorer named Ellie!! Find some ancient rabbi named Joel in my family tree! And Jasper??? Named after Jasper Johns. Do I LIKE Jasper Johns? Not really. I saw him mentioned on page something or other in my college Art History class and went, "COOL NAME." Jules? 9-months pregnant and needing a "j" name when I glanced at my coffee table and saw 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea. Camille? I just grabbed that one out of thin air. And I am REALLY sorry I didn't name one of my kids Ezra. Because Ezra is a cool name. Dang.

Anyway - back to cemeteries. I'm studying Texas history with my boys. And I'm such a dork. I'm TOTALLY into it. The boys WERE into it, and now they're just kind of finding the situation to be somewhat embarrassing and awkward because I just can't stop talking about it all. They're like, "Oh God! No! Please, Mom...do NOT get out the butcher paper. You do not need to do a timeline!!" I totally dig timelines. Since we are mostly unschoolers, my kids aren't used to this flurry of activity and they don't quite know what to do with it. Anyway, did you know Canary Islanders came over here to colonize under Spanish land grants? We LIVE on one of the original Spanish land grants!! See how I used TWO exclamation points? I told you I'm excited. Anyway, we visited a Canary Island Cemetery nearby and it was freaking awesome.

It is unmaintained and massively overgrown. The wildflowers sprinkled throughout were just breathtakingly gorgeous. Something about the old monuments in various states of disrepair....being overtaken by the such colorful representatives of new life, was extremely beautiful. I also like seeing the kids playing among the tombstones. Kind of similar imagery, I guess.

The cemetery is sprinkled with seashells. I'm not sure what the significance of this practice is. I'm very interested in finding out. From what I've read, they represent eternal life and they sometimes symbolize baptism of the deceased.

So yeah, spring is sprung. The kids put began planting the garden. Joel was in charge. The rows are somewhat crooked. Joel blamed it on the little guys. I think it is more likely that he simply couldn't see what he was doing. It is usually breezy here - and March blows in like a lion, right? So this is Joel gardening in the gale - hair being even more unruly than usual.

He was a great supervisor. He was really patient with the little guys. Here he is saying, "Dig the hold about this deep, okay?" for like the 100th time.

And here's some of our herd - grazing in the GREEN field. Why am I all-capping GREEN? Because last year it, during the drought, it was nothing but DIRT. It was so ugly. Now? It is soooo soothing to the eyes. The cows sure are happy!

And look! Our first calf of 2010...what a sweetie. I'm so glad he's got all this lovely green clover and grass to roam around in.

We have wildflowers for the first time in 3 years. Rain is amazing! Especially when you're not used to it. How do I describe the fields here? They look like someone took a giant paintbrush and started painting. Our front pasture is bluebonnets, Indian paintbrushes, buttercups, and other pretties whose names I don't know. The scent that blows in through our windows is so sweet that it gives me a slight headache by the end of the day.

OK - well, wasn't this a lovely and peaceful post? Didn't we all need it after the nastiness on the news?

Speaking of news (no! I shall not speak of it!!) - my dad and I were having a conversation about the Health**** Bill and he casually called me a Bleeding Heart Liberal. This is not a derogatory term in our family, by the way. Anyhoo - I thought he said "Breeding" Heart Liberal. And I thought that was funny. Hilarious in fact. So freaking hilarious that I am seriously wanting that tag for myself. What do you think? I've been Sardine Mama for a couple of years, now. I'm ready for a change. How does Breeding Heart Liberal sound for a blog? Hmmm....pondering that one.

Signing Off as Sardine Mama (possibly for the last time - considerin' a name change)