A Creative Mind

I have been working with my 4 year old, trying to begin the process of learning to read. My 4 year old is unique, in that, she cannot sing the alphabet correctly to save her soul...although at least now it contains ALL 26 letters. However, for over a year she has been able to identify each letter correctly by sight. Last year, she began an AWANA program at a local church where she needed to learn Bible verses. To learn these, I would say the verse for her, and ask her to repeat what I just said. Unfortunately, it would never be anything close to what I had said. I liken it to the Friends episode where Phoebe tries to teach Joey the French language. She tries to break down a French phrase, word by word with Joey, and then asks him to put it all together, and of course it is completely different. If you haven't seen this episode, it is one of my favorites. Anyway, today we were working with the 'm' sound, the short 'a' sound, and the 'n' sound. Mmmmm aaaaa nnnnn. The idea was eventually she would be able to recognize and read the word man. But instead, no matter how many times she looked at it, and we pronounced it slowly, she always said, Muh-an, always changing the 'm' sound from mmm to muh when she needed to put the sounds together. We finally ditched looking at the book, and I had her spell man. She did that excellently. So we moved on to pan. I said, "spell pan."

She said, "ummm Q?"

I sighed. "No, what sound is at the beginning of pan?"

She said, "puh"

I said, "what makes that sound?"

She answered excitedly, "P!"

"Very Good. Now spell the word pan."

"Q-A-N."

We stopped there for today.

Old by Association

Today I was working in the nursery at our church and I had a new volunteer helping me. She is a young woman that has a 5 year old boy and a 2 year old boy. We were chatting while we worked, and she mentioned that she had graduated from Purdue University. Of course, I had to comment that my husband had also attended Purdue, and then came the question..."Really? What year did he graduate?" If I had to guess, I would say at the most, that this woman is MAYBE 28. Maybe. I kind of laughed and I said, "Oh, I am sure he graduated long before you did." She pressed the issue anyway, obviously thinking I was exaggerating, so finally I said, "1993". Her face was classic, "Oh. Wow." Then I was a little offended, "Oh wow, what?" I wanted to ask. "Oh, wow, you are really old?" I am surprised she didn't say, "You look surprisingly young for being that old. Where is your walker?" I am still reconciling MYSELF with the fact that I am no longer a recent college grad or newly married anymore, but I really don't need someone else pointing it out, especially someone young and beautiful. Sigh.

The Emergency Airplane

Today I was working in our office when my eldest came in to show me her latest invention...the emergency airplane. As it was explained to me, this paper airplane will be flown to me if a problem develops in the house while I am on the telephone. The example I was given was "if SOMEONE is bothering me Mom, then I can fly this to you and you can read about WHO might be causing the trouble. Then I don't interrupt you, but you know it is an emergency and can get off the phone immediately." Since I don't have six kids, only two, I figure I could probably narrow down who might be causing my eldest grief on any given occasion without the help of an emergency airplane, but it was creative. I looked at the ingenious little airplane where on each of the wings the word "open" was written, and then once unfolded there was the following message already printed, "My sister is being mean to me. When you get off the phone PLEASE HELP!" I guess my daughter just wants to be prepared. I didn't point out that, generally, when I am on the phone I usually hear if there is trouble, long before a paper airplane could be flown at me. Screaming and hitting are often clear indicators. About 15 minutes following her presentation, my husband and I were sitting in our living room discussing the new invention, when we hear a scream, a slap, and stomping feet. Next thing we see is a paper airplane flying into the living room...I guess it can also be used when we aren't on the phone.

The Devil That You Know

This morning, I had an ENT appointment. I have seen this doctor before, and he informed me on my last visit that I had a deviated septum. Today, when he was examining me, he looked up my nose with his handy dandy nostril spreader, which makes me giggle everytime he uses it, and he announced, "Well, your nose is STILL crooked." I laughed and told him that I didn't figure that would have changed between this visit and my last one. For the time being, we are treating my nasal congestion with a nose spray, but he emphasized that if it stopped working for me then I should probably consider having my nose fixed. Honestly, I am not opposed to fixing the problem, except for one major concern. Every time a celebrity has a "deviated septum" fixed, she (it is always a she) comes out of it with an entirely different nose. I don't LOVE my nose, but I definitely don't hate it either. I would certainly hate to mess with it, and then come out with something that I really don't like at all. Therefore, unless it creates big problems, I shall continue dancing with this devil of a nose that I have known for 30+ years, rather than hedging bets on one I don't know.

Homeschool Fun

It is that time of year again. Public school children are back in class, so I get the evil eye when I am out and about with my school-aged homeschooled child. Today, we went to the library after a morning doctor's appointment, and the librarian kept shooting me strong looks of disapproval. Maybe I need to fashion a sign to hang around my daughter's neck that says, "I'm homeschooled...stop staring." I try not to do random or unnecessary outings during normal school hours for this specific reason, but it was our school system's first day back, and I had forgotten. It really isn't anyone's business, as long as my daughter is getting her schooling done, but I can't help feeling like I am doing something wrong. At least the library is somewhat educational, right? I am excited about a new year of homeschooling though. We started our lessons three weeks ago, and we are doing some interesting things this year. Not to mention, I think we might be able to attend a few more field trips, because my youngest is getting old enough to get something out of them, and not drive me completely insane...well, that is my hope anyway. In a few weeks, my eldest even gets to attend school in a one room schoolhouse with 24 other children. They are supposed to wear 1800's garb, and bring their lunches in a pail or basket. The only bathroom is an actual outhouse. I can't wait to get pictures of her outfit. It is an actual school day, taught by a teacher, and while I can't stay to watch, the schoolhouse is too small, my daughter will have some friends that she knows attending with her.

Now that school has started, this also signifies the start of the fall mayhem. Next week begins the craziness, and I am looking forward to being back in a schedule. When this past May came along I was all too ready to say goodbye to our weekly commitments, one by one. So, it is with some surprise that I am eager for them to start again; piano, dance, AWANA, homeschool gym, homeschool co-op, and regular field trips. Sometimes, I think people don't realize how much a homeschool mom is on the go, well, at least this homeschool mom.

I am off to bed...it's a school night!

Free Personal Chef Needed

I admit it. I really don't enjoy cooking. Obviously, I do it because we need to eat, and we can't afford a personal chef or to eat out every meal. I think one reason I hate cooking is because my family leaves me no room to be creative. My husband is an obscenely picky eater, and my kids, for the most part, follow his lead. Everything has to be pretty basic. Tonight, I made grilled pork chops (seasoned with a barbecue rub), broccoli, and steamed new potatoes lightly salted and buttered. The kids also had applesauce. I was actually pretty pleased with the menu, and everything in my opinion was pretty tasty. But the complaining, the crying, the agony! You would have thought I was trying to force feed my children liver and onions! Silently, I began cleaning the supper dishes while my husband was trying to wrangle a deal with the kids to eat their food. Finally, when he joined me at the sink, I said to him, "This is why I hate cooking. The kids always complain that the food is disgusting." To which my youngest pipes up, "We don't think it is disgusting. We just hate it."

Yep. I SO don't like cooking for my family.

Take That Belly Fat!

Wow! I have to say that I inadvertently discovered a workout that matches sit-ups. Not one that I want to repeat on a regular basis for sure, but my stomach muscles are still aching. I had the stomach flu Wednesday night until Friday morning, and though I was never able to actually throw up I did a heck of a lot of dry heaving. I feel like I did a thousand sit-ups. Okay, so I haven't actually ever done a thousand sit ups in one sitting, but I imagine this is how my stomach would feel had I ever achieved that feat. Thankfully, no one else in my household caught the bug, at least they haven't as of today, so I am hoping that they are in the clear. Now that I am well, I find myself appreciating the things in life, like eating and being vertical, that I normally take for granted. Nothing like the stomach flu to cause a person to regain perspective. Since I obviously can't, won't, and don't desire to maintain this particular workout regimen, I guess I probably should consider working on my stomach muscles in a different manner...probably.

Birthday Girl

All in all, my birthday was a happy one. I was sang too, given cards, flowers, gifts, and overall I was pampered. However, I think the most interesting comment I received today was, "Happy Birthday! Are you actually getting thin again?" Hmm. How do you respond to that? "I don't know, you tell me." Or "I hope so." Or "I don't know, was I getting fat for awhile?" Oh well, I guess it was a sort of compliment, in a very backhanded way. I have found over the years that if I need a reality check on my appearance I should just ask my kids. They are brutally honest, and since today they both thought I looked beautiful (as they said it many times unsolicited) I will rely on those opinions. Another person at church asked how old I was, a question that someday soon will be very impolite to ask, but I jokingly said that I had just turned 29. She said, "Honey, no one believes 29. You either need to go up or down from that age." I said, "Fine, then I am 27, is that better?" I might be able to pass for that. Maybe. Maybe not. Anyway, I had a great day and I thank my family and friends for making it that way for me. Love you all!

Guilt

My birthday is coming. So, this is the time of year that family asks, "What do you want for your birthday?" I really want and need some new clothes, and there are a couple of sweaters that I wore so frequently last year I will seriously vomit if I am forced to put them on one more time this year. Last night, I finally broke down and did some online shopping. I can usually tell what will work for my body type and the extra bonus to online shopping is that I can shop for mostly "tall" items. The problem is the whole time I browsed and shopped I kept thinking, "I really could use the money for something else", there is always something. Anyway, I submitted my order with immense hesitation, and then I couldn't sleep. For two hours I laid wide awake feeling guilty about shopping for myself. How crazy is that? I mean it is my birthday, right? Even that argument didn't assuage the guilt. I told my parents today about my shopping "spree" and how I felt about it, and my dad told me that from the time my brother and I were little until we went to college my mom did the same thing. He used to have to force her to spend money on herself. So, I come by it honestly I guess. With that bit of knowledge I am trying to relax, besides my husband isn't phased, so why should I be? If I say that enough times, I might start to believe it. At any rate, my shipment of new sweaters is on its way, and I AM excited (with a dash of guilt).