Where I come to my senses

I have come to my senses and realized that no one (besides me) wants to see me in a costume this Halloween. I know, I know, this is not a revelation to anyone besides me, but there you have it. No queen-sized sheet toga, no Statue of Liberty crown, no clown shoes. In short, no fun. Yes, there you have it.

screaming, and all it implies

Why are my kids so darned contrary?

I have one that doesn't understand "turn the tv off now". Doesn't matter how soft or loud the command is; I get nothing, nada. I know she's autistic, but it makes me scream, and she doesn't care. I swear, Tuesday is trash day, and the guys haven't been by yet. I could still get those tv's to the curb in time. It's school time; turn the goddam thing off and leave it off. We ask before we turn it on, not after.

The other raised my hopes this morning by getting me to a web site with hieroglyphs, only to dash them by squirreling around and using it only to translate "llllllllllll" so it'll show 10 lions in a row. At least he didn't pee himself laughing this time.

Yesterday, he spent an hour reading to me while I dusted the house. Today he makes me want to scream. What's with that?

Halloween, in my middle ages: take two

Oy. You should probably read the end of my previous post before you even try to understand this one. No. Really, do it. You'll be glad you did...

Okay here it is. I just googled around for costumes and found that the best selection of costumes for middle-aged, slightly-overweight women are listed under "plus size costumes". AAAAAAAHHH!

Sadly, these are the regular costumes, only they cover our hips.

http://www.anytimecostumes.com/costumes/pssexy.html

I think I'm going to wear a toga. (At least I learned something useful in college.)

Halloween, in my middle ages

Well, The Girl only made it an hour into the Halloween party before begging to go home. I guess that's her showing initiative, which is good, right? (Okay, it's a reach, but I'll take my victories where I can get them.)

I should explain my "SCA garb" costume. I've never actually attended an SCA event, but I have a secret love for Renaissance fairs. I was into fencing in college, so I ran into a lot of the fun people that dressed on weekends, but I wasn't into it.

Anyway, I've always loved dressing up for Halloween. In high school, I once dressed as celery. (Obviously, I was thinner then.) In my 20's, I dressed as Tinker Bell.

Well, last year, I thought it would be fun to make a wench costume, just for fun, to wear for Halloween. One thing led to another, and I ended up researching and producing a hand-made, authentic Tudor commoner's dress, complete with chemise, corset, petticoat, and kirtle. I actually cut dozens of pieces of steel-spring boning into specific lengths and threaded them them into a corset. Don't even ask about making patterns. Still, I like to sew, and have a thing for all things Elizabethan, as long as I still have flush toilets.

But this year, I just found the costume heavy and uncomfortable, so I got to thinking, "What would be a good costume for a slightly overweight, middle aged mom?" And I'm still asking myself. I've eliminated many of my old favorites, based on my lack of waistline and age. I'm left with "aging hippie" and, what, "hag"? Oh Lord, help me... Does anyone have ideas?

Umm... Halloween party tonight

Y'know, I keep thinking of a nice, funny blog topic, but everytime I get near the computer, my mind goes blank.

Let's see... I have toads in the house. Cute little grey and black ones with sticky pads on their feet. My mom lets them in every time she comes through the front door, sometimes two at a time. I have two hiding in the fabric piles in the sewing room/office/workout room. Guess I should get to that soon before they expire in something drycleanable.

Tonight is Parents' Night Out at the church, and this time it's a Halloween party, complete with an outdoor scavenger hunt. Yeah, you heard right -- one autistic girl, wandering around in the dark, general chaos. Hmm. Maybe, umm, NOT! So, since The Husband is sick with yet another cold, it's going to be Parent's Night Out. Only this parent has to dress up in her SCA garb and go to a kids' Halloween party. (My favorite part? Besides the corset? Having to wash the dress again after the kids spill catsup on it. Yayyyy.) But I was just guilting myself over the fact that The Girl never has any fun. So pony up, mom!

The Girl, of course, wants to be a fairy princess. (What's new?) They sprung this party on me suddenly, so she basically has a choice of last year's costume (the hand-made, golden princess gown) or the year before last (the cheap, blue and pink barbie princess dress). She chose the blue and pink dress. Can't blame her -- the gold one is lovely, but the cheap one has netting and glitter. The good news is that it was way too big for her two years ago, and it fits now.

The Boy chose Darth Vader. Fortunately, since he's a boy, he doesn't care how it looks from behind. This means that the el-cheapo mask is just fine. Oh, and add in the "Vader heavy breathing" noise maker, and we're good to go. And I just put new batteries in it this morning.

So, that's one more holiday dealt with. I feel Christmas looming ahead of me already. No money. No toddlers that want Play-Doh and cheap plastic toys. Oh no. We're up to the Digital Age. Pray for me...

vomit, pee and a quiet weekend away.

Well, I survived the long weekend at Auntie's house in the hills. The leaves were beautiful. My brother was incredibly politically incorrect. ("All those retired Jews in Florida are really socialists. Seriously." Heh? We finally told him to shut up while he was ahead.) Auntie and her husand were gracious hosts and have a kazillion channels on the TV. Auntie's son and husband took my meek, little suburban son out and taught him what to do (and not do) with a gun. Wish I had pictures of The Boy shooting a BB gun. He had HUGE soundproof earmuffs on. LOL!


Anyway, we arrived near dusk on Wednesday night, with me feeling like Charles Lindberg. I swear, I was driving down the highway with cruise control on, thinking, "That's weird. I feel like I'm still driving. Oh wait. I am." Both kids refused to go in the house, and The Girl started screaming, "I want to go HOOOOOOME!" The Boy was just afraid of the dogs. Oy vey. We finally got them indoors, and The Boy started crying about the antiques hung on the wall of our room. (Remember? The Boy has a phobia about old things?) The Girl continued asking to go home, and we finally collapsed in bed without anyone getting eaten by dogs.

(I kept insisting that if the dog wanted to eat anyone, it would be The Boy's little cousin who is much smaller and meatier than he is. I think it finally worked. By the end of the weekend, he was sharing the recliner with the dog.)

Thursday, things went better. We all went on a pontoon boat ride to see the leaves, and only my brother complained about my bad driving on the mountain roads. There are no curvy roads OR hills where I live -- give me a break! The Boy got used to the antiques, and spent a couple of hours alternatively running up and down the hill and dancing in his room with his little cousin. The girl spent as much time as she could get away with in the car, apparently hoping to go home.


My brother left for home early Friday, so the rest of us just hung out until evening, when we left for the Chinese buffet. Halfway down the driveway, I stopped to dry out my car seat that someone poured water in. At the bottom of the driveway, I stopped to tend to a bloody nose, and then the fuel light went on. The Girl wept through dinner, and didn't eat, and we couldn't figure out why. After a stop at Wal-Mart to get granola bars and ammo, we visited four gas stations, looking for gas. (Do I love our GPS? Yes, I do! "Find me gas." "Yes, mistress!") I did find some, and we were headed home, when I thought, "Hey, why not call The Husband?" I had no sooner gotten him on the phone, when The Girl started barfing. And I do mean serious barfing. I hung up the phone, cleaned up the mess in a pelting rain storm, and headed back to Auntie's. The Boy's little voice in the back seat piped up, "Are we having bad luck?" Um. Yeah. Good call.

Saturday was pretty quiet, if you don't count Auntie's husband shooting a Kalishnakof at soda cans. Too much fun!

We left for home Sunday morning. Can you believe I loaded all those suitcases, put them in the hall, and they just STAYED THERE? Oh wait. It's The Husband's job to load the car. ;) I found a lot of those little husband tasks on the trip. Like, apparently, he's in charge of checking the gas gague.

Anyway, all went well until we got within 20 miles of home. Let's just say that it is possible for a boy to barf and pee along the side of the highway at the same time. Meanwhile, The Girl started screaming, "I have to go to the bathroom!" Oy vey. A stop at Wendy's, a change of clothes, and a small lemonade later, and we were on our way.

We're home now, and so grateful that we're having a holiday to celebrate. Yayyyy!!!

A frustrating day and The Big Escape. (Oh, and a little politics!)

Ever have one of those homeschooling days where the kid just sits in front of his handwriting and spelling list and stares at them -- for what feels like hours?! Now, I'm usually one of those "logical consequence" disciplinarians. "If you don't do your handwriting and spelling, you can't get to your journal, math, or reading. Then we all have to do science and history. And until you finish it all, there's no TV or computer. Any time you're ready. Your choice."

This, of course, implies that I can stand ignoring him for that long. Part of the problem is that he disrupts our science and history, which the three of us do together. And do I feed lunch him if he doesn't finish his math? And is it legal to just whack him over the head? 'Cause I think that might work best. I resorted to the yelling method of discipline today, which I'm sure isn't endorsed by the NEA. *sigh*

Well, we're packing up to go to Auntie's house in the mountains on Wednesday. The kids now have enough long pants, and I've mostly finished making their fleece jackets. (Gotta get on that.) I don't have anything washed or packed, and I have food co-op meeting tomorrow night. Scary. Every time I go on vacation or to a cocktail party, I always reach the "no wanna go" stage. I think I'm almost there by now. No wanna go!

But Auntie's husband has been griping for years that we never come to visit them, so now that they're within a day's drive, I have to go. The kids have never seen leaves change (not that they remember anyway), and we've finished our tree and leaf unit, so it's now or never. I'm just not sure I'm crazy enough to do this. I mean REALLY. What was I thinking when I agreed to this?!

And Uncle may be there. Eew. My pedantic, conservative, republican brother. The one who called me "an America hater" on the phone last week for being a democrat. I was floored. I have personally never hung up on someone -- until last week. I always assumed that 99% of republicans are nice reasonable people, but apparently not. That, or my brother is on the fringe. I don't think he's going to those McCain rallies where people scream "kill Obama," but maybe. I can't tell you how sad I am that John McCain's campaign has come to this. And then the crowd boos him when he asks them to be more respectful.

A year ago, I really thought that John McCain was an honorable man whom, if his economic policies were more liberal, I could actually vote for. He's lost all that in the last month or two. He traded his soul for a chance to become president, and it may not have been a good trade. It's really sad. ("No, no, don't hold back; tell us what you really think!" LOL!)

So many blessings...

More on the title later, but first about the psychiatrist's appointment today. I set a new record today -- I burst into tears almost immediately upon entering her office. How embarrasing. The Boy didn't want us to talk about any of the problems he's having, so The Husband took him to the lobby while I made my confession. "Forgive me Father, for I have a wacky-doodle son. Last week, he saw an ad for Shriner's hospital, and the sick children scared him so badly that he's been belly-crawling across the living room for a week. Sunday, a toddler tried to touch him, and he freaked out so that I had to bodily protect the toddler. He won't touch library books because he's afraid he'll get the thoughts of the myriad children that have touched the book in the past." The full confession was limited to a half-hour, but it's amazing how much ground a mom can cover in that amount of time. Anyway, she agreed that he's either OCD (insisting that old things, library books, and toddlers can make his brain change the way it thinks) or he's simply overly anxious all the time. Either way, we're trying sertraline (one of the prozacs) that should help with either of those. Time will tell.

Anyway, back to the blog title, I was checking out and chatting with the receptionist. We talked about how kids seem to be getting wackier every year. We talked about how I'm able enough to teach my kids at home, how it seems to be working so well (especially for The Girl), and how The Husband makes enough money that I was able to quit my job and homeschool, and she says to me, "So many blessings..."

I was floored. I left the building with the thought echoing in my grateful brain. So many blessings...

Homeschool Group review and the latest buzz on shrinks

Well, I suppose I should write about the homeschooling group. It just didn't jazz me. They're setting up co-ops and field trips. They're setting up mom's night out at Friendly's. (What, no liquor?!) They're setting up regular meetings. But my kids can't go to co-op and they're probably not going on field trips. The next two regular meetings are "service meetings", and we'll be packing care packages for The Troops. Oye. To top it off, they lean heavily toward fundamentalist Christianity. As a Christian, I'm not supposed to be nervous about that, but I'm Episcopalian, and frankly, a lot of them don't really think I'm Christian enough. Whatever that means. (If you give a cup of water to the least of these, you have given it to me. Even if they're gay.)

Anyway, we're hanging in here. The Husband's allergies are so bad this Fall that he's just curled up in the fetal position, hoping to die. Not that sinuses ever killed anyone -- it just feels like it's going to. I've stopped talking to him. Mostly because he told me to.

The big deal here right now is that we're headed to the psychiatrist on Thursday morning with The Boy. (His anxiety levels are out of control, and I think that's what's keeping him out of the public schools more than the ADD. It's just that the psycologists always says aspergers and ADD.) I'm not sure I'm up to this. I hate crying in public, and it's just not an EIP until The Mom cries. I just feel so helpless when I go to people like this. Then I start feeling pitiful, and pitiful leads to inadequate. And inadequate leads to sorrow for my son. Then I start thinking about what will happen to them when they're adults, and then I cry. Start to finish, 10 minutes. Shorter if the person is nice to me. I HATE that. I spent years working out in the "real world" and was a highly respected professional in my field, and just see what my kids reduce me to. Oye.

You may wonder where "oye" comes from, when I'm a nice waspy suburban mom. College. I went to college with many nice Jewish kids, and came away with an appreciation for yiddish and the power of the Jewish grandma. My all time favorite Bubbe expression is, "How nice for you." It is used when someone starts shamelessly bragging, and it means something like, "Oh shut up. No one cares." I think it's related to, "On you, it looks good," which means, "I think it's hideous, but you go right ahead and wear it."

One funny school note this week -- The Boy spent forever on his work on Monday, dorking around so long that I literally finished school at 4:30. This morning, I threatened him with another 8 hour school day. He shaped up right quick! Yay!!!

Then both of them spent the rest of the day trashing the house whenever I wasn't looking. What is it with kids?! Foaming hand soap all over the bathroom counters, the band-aid box dumped all over the hallway floor, dishes everywhere, pajamas in the dining room, stupid destructive acts all afternoon. I was right happy to put them to bed tonight. It was a relief.

I'm hoping the psychiatrist can put The Boy on something that will get him over the fear of the copper Sun decoration on the neighbor's house, so we can run The Boy around the block several times a day. Maybe that'll help.

I remember when I had a life, and this doesn't feel like a life right now -- hostile husband, destructive, needy, ungrateful children. I get one Saturday morning a month off to visit with the food coop people, whom I adore. (We humor each other's wackyness without judging. I love those people.) These doctor's appointments always make me really edgy for days ahead of time. I start joking about whether the doctor will give the anti-anxiety meds to me or The Boy. After Thursday's appointment, I'll calm down again. I promise. I just need to get through tomorrow without snapping at the poor things. I'm all set for school, if I can only come up with a Mesopotamian activity for The Girl. Oye.

So. That homeschool thing. What's up with that?

Haven't written lately on my big homeschool thing. Since this is my first year, I'm taking a while to settle in, but it's starting to even out. People keep telling me how stressful this must be for me, but I gotta say, it's a whole lot less stressful than sending them to public schools! After having taught them for six weeks, I can honestly not imagine any other way to educate my kids.

We have our routine pretty well established. Up in time for an hour of PBS Kids. Breakfast, pencil sharpening, and ready to start by about 8:15. Handwriting, spelling, then journal. Arithmetic, then snack. Science, then lunch. (I have to do a LOT of one-on-one, so this takes longer than I reasonably think it should.) After lunch, it's history and reading.

Sometimes, I find the best way to present science or history to The Girl is to simply curl up in the recliner and read it with her. It means that science and history take twice as long as it should, since The Boy likes to do it standing up, but it works.

My one fight is the television. In summer, they got used to watching a lot of PBS kids, sometimes for noise, sometimes to watch, but always on. (Hey, it wasn't only on my shift either!) So, if we finish up Science early, we'll catch Word World at 11:30, and we might catch Big, Big World at 2:00. But then the thing gets turned off until closer to the arsenic hour, when I need all the help I can get to cook dinner without hurting anyone.


On the advice of the Suburban Correspondent, I invested in some A Beka for the basics, such as spelling and arithmetic. The Boy is doing grade 4 spelling and grade 3 arithmetic. The Girl is doing grade 3 spelling and grade 2 arithmetic. It's working out pretty well. I'm adding in extra materials for clocks, roman numerals, etc., and I've done some really fun hands-on for measurement. I'm also using Addition the Fun Way for The Girl, and she's through the 5's already!

Their handwriting is atrocious, but improving. I'm still doing Handwriting without Tears "Printing Power" with both of them. (I love, LOVE, LOVE their double-line paper!) The Boy is almost finished with it and ready to move on to Zaner-Bloser second-grade cursive next. I know he worked through most of it last year in school, but I can't see how! He just now learned to hold the pencil correctly and "bounce" the r, n, and m. He resisted the change for quite a while, but he's starting to see that making the letters correctly is both neater and faster. The Girl will require another pass through Handwriting without Tears. She's just all over the map! My latest ploy -- instead of saying "bump the lines", I say "kiss the lines!" She likes it better, but she still runs all over the lines anyway.

Let's see... Oh and some journal writing. Nothing profound yet, just getting them used to not hating it. ;) What I'm loving is the journal I found at Office Depot with the Zaner-Bloser lines on the lower half of the page!

We're just working our way through the McGraw-Hill 3rd grade Science book for now. They cover "Living Things" first, so I have a "let's go visit Auntie in the mountains to see the colored leaves" field trip planned. Heh, heh, heh. I love this job!

Our state standards have the kids hitting all major ancient civilizations in five months. Hmm. I think maybe not. I'm doing my best to help them tell the difference between Mesopotamia and Narnia, and we'll see what happens. I tried quite a few nice books on ancient civilizations, but most are geared for 5th grade or so, when kids develop a better sense of time and history. We've done quite a bit of time-lining, so I think they understand "a long, long time ago". For now, we're using those resources, plus the Encyclopedia of Ancient History, Stone Age Boy and History Pockets for the Ancient World. (That second one is The Girl's favorite book right now. I know WAY too much about the Stone Age.) The Boy has developed a phobia of mummies, so Egypt has been replaced with Mesopotamia for now. He particularly likes the "You wouldn't want..." series of history books! There's plenty of material to work with -- Sumerian slaves, Assyrian soldiers, etc.

Let's see, that's handwriting, spelling, journals, arithmetic, science, history. That leaves reading. We're just reading for now. Actually, I'm reading to them. I started out reading Elmer and the Dragon, which they both enjoyed, but The Girl tended to ignore sometimes. I separated them, and now The Boy is reading some Series of Unfortunate Events and Goosebumps, while The Girl is reading advanced picture books. I try to work in as much non-fiction as I can for her, just to get in a little more science and history!

Notice what I've left out? Yup. The deadly reading comprehension. *sigh* The Boy is very resistant to answering questions on what will happen next, what the characters are thinking, what the author is trying to tell us, etc. He absolutely hates it. And the Girl just looks blankly at me. So for now, we're letting it go. We stop and talk about what's going on in the book and what might happen next. I pause to preach the author's message. I admire the nuances of the text and use of vivid language. I gasp in horror when The Blob that Ate Everyone, well, tries to eat everyone. We have plenty of time to get around to the misery-making later in the school year. I know I should shove an "author's intent" worksheet at them every now and then, but I just don't have the heart. Maybe second semester.

So, that's what's shaking. I find the best resource I have is my HP Officejet printer/copier/fax. I can't imagine living without it! I know I'm supposed to buy six copies of Handwriting Without Tears Printing Power, but give me a break -- two copies are enough for my budget! The History Pockets just assume I have a copier. Now, I just need a cheap source for ink.

Oh, and I decided not to join the homeschool support group. It's a long story, but I don't think we'll go to any of the events, I don't particularly agree with their religion or politics. But I do need someone to show me a third grade portfolio pretty soon. Hmm. Must do more digging.

Vindication! (It's the small things...)

I found someone who could articulately say what I was rambling about yesterday -- from David Leonhardt of the New York Times, no less! It's HERE! Basically, it's this:

In 1929, Meyer Mishkin owned a shop in New York that sold silk shirts to workingmen. When the stock market crashed that October, he turned to his son, then a student at City College, and offered a version of this sentiment: It serves those rich scoundrels right.

A year later, as Wall Street’s problems were starting to spill into the broader economy, Mr. Mishkin’s store went out of business. He no longer had enough customers. His son had to go to work to support the family, and Mr. Mishkin never held a steady job again.

Frederic Mishkin — Meyer’s grandson and, until he stepped down a month ago, an ally of Ben Bernanke’s on the Federal Reserve Board — told me this story the other day, and its moral is obvious enough. Many people in Washington fear that the country is starting to spiral into a terrible downturn. And to their horror, they see the public, and many members of Congress, turning into modern-day Meyer Mishkins, more interested in punishing Wall Street than saving the economy.

Damn. I'm good... ;) Looks like the grownups have passed the bill tonight, and we'll see what happens when the House gets back from their holiday.