Sunday's Gratitude Post

Today I'm grateful for my local AP parenting group. They're some of the strongest, wisest, and most accepting women I know. I'm incredibly fortunate to live in Austin, home of this remarkable group and a place where homeschooling is not only welcome but also encouraged.

I'm one lucky mama.

It Ain't Always Easy, but It's Always Worth It

I got some flak for my blog post on API Speaks yesterday. One of the commenters was taken aback by some of my statements. So I reread my post, and I can certainly see why she might have taken some offense to my opinions.

To someone who had mellow kids, or maybe one child, or perhaps a ton of outside support, or even a group of like-minded moms to vent to, I can see how my words would rankle. She said of my post, "Perhaps it was intended to connect with an audience who finds attachment parenting to be difficult, even painful- but it also encourages the belief that it is normal, and okay, for it to be that way, rather than to find ways that are not painful or uncomfortable."

Well, the truth is, it is normal for it to be that way - at least for some of us, at least sometimes. Some of us have extraordinarily high-needs children who completely tap their reserves, day in and day out. Some of us have several closely spaced children or twins or triplets - and by the end of the day, we're completely "touched out" but still need to be accessible and welcoming to our children. Some of us have ill children, and we have to give and give and give. Some of us work and come home exhausted and still have to provide nurturing touch, when what we want is to have someone touch us in a nurturing way. Some of us are single and have no relief from being "on" all day - and night - long.

And yes, sometimes we pretend - to be patient, because the alternative is to be impatient; to be sensitive, because what we really want is to be left alone at that moment; and to be to be something we're not, especially if what we're feeling is not particularly "attached" at that second. Do we do this all the time? Most of the time? Much of the time? Obviously not, or we couldn't begin to call ourselves attachment parents, and we wouldn't be committed to this type of parenting.

For some of us, being attached is hard at times. Certainly not all the time, and probably not even most of the time.

But here's the deal. I've talked to countless parents who are following AP principles, and doing so with commitment and passion. Virtually every one of those parents finds it difficult at times. And many, many of those think they're the only one.

I can't tell you how many moms have thanked me profusely for letting it all hang out and admitting that I've struggled. They tell me that it actually makes staying committed to their beliefs easier, because they realize that they're not the oddball that they thought they were, that they're not doing it "wrong."

Almost everything we read about attachment parenting is about the positive aspects, the rewards, and the health benefits. And all those things are true. But it can be disheartening - at times - to those of us who are committed to this path but find it to be bumpier than the books let on, especially when we think that we're the only one struggling.

Of course, being attached to your kids is worth it, in so many ways that I can't even begin to express. More and more studies are backing up what AP parents have felt in their hearts all along - that our children are healthier, stronger, happier, and more confident over the long haul. Whether the path is sometimes difficult, sometimes rocky, sometimes steep ... it's the path with the most dazzling view, with the most brilliant sky, with the sweetest fresh air, and with the biggest rewards at the end, and strewn liberally all along the way as well.

So I am thrilled that there are parents out there for whom being an AP parent is easy. I'm elated that, for some, the few difficulties they encounter are easily remedied. For those who struggle occasionally (or even frequently) I just want to be that voice that says, "It's okay. You're human. We all struggle, and we all survive. And it's all worth it."

I must admit that I'm not a touchy-feely writer. In fact, when I first posted to API Speaks I wrote to the volunteer who handles the blog, and I asked her if my style was appropriate. I'm not apologizing; that's just me.

And just for the record, even though the early years were peppered with difficult times (and sometimes the pepper was a bit heavy), I never once was resentful. Never.

_____________

If you liked this post, you might enjoy The 8 Principles with Older Kids ... Still Valid?

The Struggles of Being Attached: Is It Worth It?

This post is today's blog post on API Speaks, Attachment Parenting International's blog.

Is being an attachment parent worth it? Let’s face it, it can be tough.

I co-slept – with kicking kids who woke up repeatedly during the night, all night long. One night my youngest kicked me in the breast so hard that I developed a massive lump and had to get an emergency mammogram to make sure it wasn’t going to explode or fall off. But the worst thing? I was so sleep deprived that I didn’t even wake up when it happened….
… Our friends who Ferberized their kids boasted about what great sleepers their kids were. “Little Johnny sleeps through the night and doesn’t wake until 8:00. Sometimes I have to wake him up for breakfast!”

I nursed – when my breasts were so sore that I’d have cut them off and hung them on the wall if I’d had the option. Breastfeeding hurt so bad with my middle child that I would start crying as soon as she woke up hungry, even before she latched on…
… My friends would pull out a little bottle, shake some sticky powder into it, and pop a plastic nipple into Little Suzy’s mouth, who happily gulped it down. I even had a friend who had one of those bottles with the long tube attached to the nipple, since she couldn’t even be bothered with holding her baby to eat.

I carried them — my newborns, my toddlers, and my preschoolers for a thousand miles, sometimes more than one kid at a time (thank goodness they were small!). Sometimes one would be in a backpack, one would be in a sling, and one would be on my hip or holding my hand….
… My friends would be (choose one) dragging their kids along by the hand because they didn’t want to cooperate, lugging immensely heavy carseats, or pushing them apathetically along in a stroller.

I responded with sensitivity — well, that is, pretended to be patient, endlessly giving words of reassurance or encouraging mediation, while my inner voice was screaming behind my ears, “Just stop it, already!”…
… My friends would pull their kids behind a fence and give them a swat or two, or maybe put them in time out. Problem solved.

My friends — wonderful, loving, committed, but decidedly non-AP friends — would look at me with a sorry mixture of pity, confusion, and something bordering embarrassment as I stuck to my guns, refusing to spank my kids, punish them, or demean them.

Clearly, some of my friends thought that I was coddling my children, perhaps even dooming them to a life of feeling entitled and being unfulfilled.

But I tried my best to treat my kids with the same respect that I would want. They had just as much value and deserved just as much respect as I did. Why would I want to teach them that the world doesn’t respond to their needs (that is, CIO)? What would be the point of saving myself some discomfort now (okay, let’s admit it, a lot of discomfort) by bottle-feeding when I was perfectly capable of breastfeeding, especially at the expense of their health? How could I tell them to stand up for themselves and not let the world take advantage of them if I treated them like “less than” or if I demeaned or humiliated them? And did I really want my kids to think that I was the absolute authority on everything, so much so that they needed to jump to my every command, lest they be punished?

Nope. I wanted my kids to think for themselves; to know that their parents always had their best interests at heart, even when it wasn’t convenient; to be able to count on their parents to be there when they needed us; and to know without a doubt that their thoughts and opinions were just as valid as mine or their dad’s – or any adult’s.

Was it easy? No, not always, especially at the beginning, especially when what I was doing was so different from my mainstream friends’ strategies.

Now, though, I must say that it’s the easiest and most natural thing imaginable. Today my children know that they’re valued and worthwhile and that they’re the equal of every person on the planet, no matter their age. They’re secure, they enjoy spending time with my husband and me, they enjoy each other, and they’re just plain fun to be around.

My kids, attached to each other ... and their guitars.

And what about my friends’ children? Are they easy? Well adjusted? Self-confident? Still connected to their parents? Some certainly seem to be. But, well … not all of them are. I see many (most?) of them turn to their peers for validation. Some put up a good front at being cooperative and “good” while investing a lot of effort in “getting away” with things behind their parents’ backs. And others bow to authority simply because of the authority’s age or position.

That’s not what I want for my kids. I like to think that the “work” I put into being an attachment parent in the early years is paying off now. After the thousands of hours and hours of effort I spent cosleeping, nursing, playing, talking, listening, comforting, mediating, and just being, I’m seeing the rewards.

And those rewards will last a lifetime.

______________

If you liked this post, you might enjoy What I've Learned As a Parent.

Dependence Begets Independence?

Can dependence really give rise to independence? How can that be?

It does seem counterintuitive, doesn't it?

Think about it for a minute. What makes someone independent? I don't mean independent by the current youth standard - not caring, not needing parents, and not being curious ... in short, being apathetic to life. Indeed, those very kids are totally dependent on their peers for validation, so in actuality, not independent at all.

No, I mean independent. Completely secure in who they are, what they believe, and how they act. We've all met them - heck, maybe you're one of them. When I was a young adult, I secretly looked at those people with great awe - those people who dressed in their own style, who held religious or political beliefs distinctly separate from their peers or their family, who forged ahead on their own and without a safety net, and who followed their own, if seemingly outlandish, career paths. I was never comfortable enough in my own skin to be one of those people.

So, I ask again, what makes a person independent? Secure? Willing to go out on their own without a group backing them up?

Let me go out on a limb here and say dependence. If a child starts life being dependent on caring parents, knowing that those parents will be there for him, rain or shine, then he can focus on exploring the world. If he knows that he's going to be loved unconditionally, with all his warts and indiosynchrocies, then he can become secure in who he is. If he learns early on that the world responds to his needs, then he becomes comfortable with being curious and expects that he'll get results from his actions.

If he begins life dependent on loving, caring adults who cherish him for who he is, there is no other path than that of independence in the healthiest meaning of the word.

Isn't that what we want for our kids?

_____________

If you liked this post, you might enjoy What We Give Our Kids.

Paralyzed by Inefficiency

Won't you consider donating just a bit of your wisdom to help a poor homeschooling mom?

I need help.

Okay, I admitted it. That's the first step, isn't it?

My plate is huge and full, and I keep eating and eating and it never gets emptier. A ton of side dishes crowd the main entree (read, my family). Heck, sometimes my side dishes cover up my entree so that I have to dig it out.

What with the volunteering, the homeschooling, the writing, my parents - forget any just-for-fun "me" things - I find myself so overloaded as to be paralyzed at times. My list of to-dos is so long that I take one look at it and am stymied. I really feel like I could get a lot done if I were simply more efficient and motivated.

And on top of all that, all of the little life emergencies step in the way and push aside the things I'd planned to do, say ... oh ... sleep, for instance.

Just tonight, for example, I had planned to get to the computer and write some incredibly poignant or hilarious or witty or insightful blog post. Instead, I got waylaid by my darling middle child, who decided she wants to go camping and hiking with H and G this weekend. Great! All that means is that I have to try to find her a pack that she can comfortably carry 25 pounds in for a couple of hours - without spending any money. So I dig out my old backpack from my trip to Europe twenty years ago, and - whaddya know? - the plastic piece that holds on the shoulder straps has rotted away. I spend at least an hour trying to rig the pack (a lost cause) and end up digging out a different, way-too-big pack and loading it down to see if she can carry it.

There goes my writing time. I'm not angry about it, especially since I was doing something for my daughter with the end goal of getting her out on the trail ... indeed I was quite happy to do it. But it's just one example of how my time gets taken up by unexpected do-it-right-nows.

I know we're all busy, and I know that many of us are stressed (I'm not, unless you start asking me about my parents), but lots of folks do a vastly better job than I do at organizing their lives. How do they do it? Are they born organized? Motivated? Naturally well rested? How do they get away from the day-to-day minutiae of life: the laundry, the dishes, the scrapes, the cat puke, and the kid-argument mediation?

Here's what we already have: a housekeeper that comes every other week (not that you can tell 24 hours after she leaves), a detailed schedule for the kids to follow every school day (not that they follow it without badgering), and an incredibly supportive husband who handles way more of his share (and who never complains) ... so I'm pretty sure the problem is me.

Here's exactly what I need: some advice, a plan, or words of wisdom that will help me get over my state of inertia so that I can be productive and relaxed. I have the goals, I have the desire, I have the means, I have the ideas of all the things I want to accomplish ... I just don't have the organization.

Thanks for letting me vent. If you have any words of wisdom, please let me know!

____________

If you liked this post, you might enjoy Great Expectations.

Saturday Quote for the Day

"I was sitting in a giant bowl of virus soup."

--me, after leaving the waiting room of my doctor's office, where I was getting a recheck for bronchitis.

I felt like I needed one of those decontamination showers that they give to workers in nuclear reactors after being exposed to radiation.

_____________

If you liked this post, you might enjoy Saturday Quote for the Day, August 22.

Photo of soup by newwavegurly from here

Viking Warriors ... or Aliens?

I've decided that young boys don't much care if armor looks authentic, as long as their weapons are whackable.

Case in point ...

This is a picture of the only helmet ever found that is known to have come from the Viking age, unearthed from a burial mound. (Note the lack of Wagner-style horns.)

The world's only existing Viking Age helmet, from Gjermundbu in Ringerike

(from Kulturhistorisk Museum, Universitetet I Oslo)

From that, I attempted to make a helmet out of aluminum foil, duct tape, and copious amounts of red wine (hey, it was the middle of the night - cut me some slack).

Hand-to-hand combat.

You can see that, ahem, the kids' helmets didn't come out quite the way I envisioned them. They ended up looking more like alien heads than Viking helmets. But did the boys care? Not a whit.

Circling in for the kill.

They cared much more about their Viking axes - which, I must add, were based on actual axes - not some idea that came out of my kitchen drawer. After all, they were able to swing, smack, hit, and chop with them. Fortunately, the axe part was made out of posterboard (the kids got to decide if they wanted to have a "bronze" axe or "steel" one - the posterboard was silver on one side and gold on the other), so there were no decapitations or dismemberments. There was a little hot-glue repair required, however.

Which one will fall? Which one will succumb?

In my defense, I did actually present some educational information: English words from Old Norse, location of Scandinavia, examples of artwork, longboats, Greenland, blah, blah, blah.

Close combat.

In the end, all they cared about was the weapons. After all, the class is called Arms and Armor, right?

________________

If you enjoyed this post, you might like Maces, Chain Mail, and 4-Year-Old Knights.

The Check's in the Mail

Some of our geography books.

It really is. In the mail, that is. The check. Along with our registration for the 2010 National Geographic Bee. Sent certified.

The folks at NatGeo are amazing. About 6,000,000 children compete in the Bee every year, from thousands of schools and homeschooling groups. The efforts to organize this thing must be phenomenal. I can't even imagine.

And do you know what those good folks did? They called me to make sure we were registering this year.

G studying with maps that H made.

Let me back up a bit. Austin Area Homeschoolers (actually yours truly, for the benefit of yours truly's oldest kid) has been the organizer for the Bee for homeschoolers in Austin for the last three years. NatGeo allows only one homeschooling Bee per city or town, probably to keep homeschoolers from having a bunch of small Bees in each city. So in Austin, we're it - at least we have been for the last three years.

This year, I needed to talk to someone at NatGeo before sending in our registration, and I hadn't gotten around to it yet. (I know ... shocker.) You can imagine my surprise when I picked up the phone and heard, "Hello, this is Erin from the National Geographic Bee."

It turns out that another homeschooling group in Austin had sent in their registration. I would have figured that it would be "First come, first served." I certainly wouldn't have expected that they would take the time to call.

I know it's not like one of them said, "Hey, here's a registration from a group in Austin that's not Austin Area Homeschoolers. Hmm. Maybe I should call Camille and see what's up." It's just that I think it's nice to have the personal touch occasionally, especially from such a huge organization. And it's awfully nice that they gave us the option of hosting, especially since they could have said, "You snooze, you lose."

Guess their mama raised them right.

G at last year's state bee.

So we're it once again. This year G wants to go all the way to Washington. Indeed, he wants to make Texas the first state to win the National Bee two years in a row. He has a tough road ahead of him, but I know he can do it if he continues to study the way he has been and has a smidgen of luck.

___________________

If you liked this post, you might enjoy Geography Games and you might want to check out G's GeoBee study site, GeoBee Universe.

Following a Child's Wonder

I'm a bit slow on the update sometimes.

When did you "rediscover" your sense of wonder at the world? If you're like most parents, your eyes began sparkling at new-fallen rain and your ears began ringing to the tunes of early morning birds awaking to the dawn. Perhaps you walked through the world hunched over, following your toddler around, noticing the yellow brilliance of the daisy and the pungence of freshly mown grass.

Then again, maybe you were like me. I spent those early years of toddlerhood mostly slogging through the days, grateful if I got a shower, if my kids ate something other than peanut butter on a spoon out of the jar, and if we were no more than thirty minutes late to playgroup. I was so busy surviving the challenges of a high-need preschooler while dragging along an unwitting toddler and newborn that the nuances of a sunset or the harmonic shades of an orchestra went entirely unnoticed.

I probably would have liked to have enjoyed them; I just didn't notice.

For me, my reawakening to the wonders of the world didn't come until my kids were old enough to start having real discussions - with me or each other. When they were mature enough to have their own opinions and debate their merits, well, that was when my brain really clicked in.

Wow!, I thought. These kids look at the world in an entirely different light! Where they see crimson or scarlet, I see red. Where they hear rain pattering or bacon frying, I hear static. Where they see rainbows and swirls, I see oil spots on the driveway.

Their creativity has opened by mind to vast possibilities I'd never before thought about. History interesting? You don't say! Geography useful and fascinating? Who would've known! Drama worthwhile? Couldn't have imagined it! Improv mind expanding? No kidding!

Now that my kids are older, my mind expands farther than I ever expected. I used to think that I loved to learn, but my kids have taught me otherwise - I only thought I did. Now I know what loving to learn means. In part, it means opening your mind enough to learn about things that you never thought you were interested in, and being thrilled to find that there was an entire world out there that you'd missed. It means admitting that you don't know much and letting others teach you - others who might not be otherwise seen as likely teachers. It means stretching your views to encompass more than what you believe, to perhaps have your mind changed by lively, enthusiastic, and sometimes even hot-headed debate.

These days my children are the leaders in so many things. I rarely consider myself a teacher. I'm more a facilitator or an enabler ... or a student.

And that's just fine with me.

____________

If you liked this post, you might enjoy What We Give Our Kids.

Photo by gamier20 from here

And "The Giving Tree" Goes to ...

Victoria! Who doesn't need to go to the library for the book now. Hope you, Bean, and Miss O enjoy the book!

Thanks to everyone who entered, either through comments or off list!

Maces, Chain Mail, and 4-Year-Old Knights

Last Friday's co-op class was great fun. We talked about the Middle Ages and knights, which lasted for all of about 6.5 minutes, which also seems to be the attention span of a group of seven boys between the ages of 4 and 7.

The first thing we did was try on chain mail and a full-size helmet, generously lent to us by another mom in the co-op.

T modeling the chain mail.

Next on the agenda was making maces. I'd thought about making flails, but the chain seemed too iffy, considering that young kids would be doing the work. One nice thing about these maces was that they were too delicate to whack. So the boys carried them reverently home instead of swinging them willy nilly out in the parking lot.

Our "authentic" mace. Looks pretty good, doesn't it? This one was made by a 6-year-old.

Here the maces stand (paint drying), like bizarre torturous flowers that Roald Dahl might find lining a lush green yard.

This class is turning out to be a hoot. Granted, we hang by our fingernails on the edge of mayhem just about every minute we're in there, but our fingernails are mighty strong. Actually, the first 3 or 4 minutes are pretty calm, when the kids pick out the country we're studying on the world map and tell me all about what they know about it. So that only leaves, say, 57 minutes or so of hot glue, duct tape, sticks, whacks, and scuffles. No problem.

Surprisingly, it's difficult to find a craft for weapon making for this age group. The craft needs to do 3 things: 1) be doable for 4-year-olds, 2) look reasonably authentic, and 3) be safe. You'd be amazed at how hard it is to come up with something that meets all those requirement that you can do in an hour.

S's turn to model the armor and helmet. Can ya dig that warrior grimace?

So, did you guess yet how the maces were made?

Candy corn, along with wooden dowels, styrofoam balls, and metallic paint. Pretty clever, huh?

Our not-so intimidating unpainted maces. Now these look like they were made by 4-year-olds!

_______________

If you liked this post, you might enjoy Casualties: 1 ... and Counting.

Sunday's Gratitude Post

Today I'm oh so grateful for running water. Recently our water pressure decreased drastically for a short while, and I was amazed at how nervous that made me. My parents live out in the Texas Hill Country, and they live off a spring. At the height of this year's drought, they were squeaking by on a trickle of water until it finally went dry for a few weeks, when they were living off of water stored in plastic jugs. The town a few miles away was being delivered water by truck.

Their water is running again, and their pump is working now, so all seems to be okay. They can shower, wash clothes, wash dishes, and make ice. It was tough for them for a stretch.

But it makes me hyperaware of how much we depend on water. Now every time I rinse my dishes I notice how much water runs into the drain. Every time I wash my hands I think of all that clean water that's wasted.

Every day I'm reminded of our dwindling water supply and how we need to preserve it. No great ideas here tonight, just gratitude for the recent rains and for indoor running water, available, hot or cold, at a moment's notice.

Photo of dripping water by naughty architect from here.

Friday Giveaway - The Giving Tree

In honor of all the offers of help I received when my parents came into town unexpectedly with a medical crisis a couple of weeks ago, I'm giving away a copy of The Giving Tree.

Entry is a two-step process this time (I'm going to make you work for it):

1. Comment here or email me offlist at TheEclecticMom@gmail.com about whether you love or hate this book (or have no opinion at all), and

2. Tell one of your homeschooling friends or attachment parenting friends (or any other friends) to enter too!

(Obviously, I won't know if you've done #2 - oops, sorry, that sounds bad - so you're on the honor system.) I'll pick the winner by random drawing on Tuesday morning. Deadline is Monday at midnight CST.

_______________

If you liked this post, you might enjoy Sunday's Gratitude Post from September 13.

Geography Games

I frequently have people ask me how G studies for geography, and I never have a good answer. He uses tons of different resources - atlases, encyclopedias, online sources, books, audiobooks, videos, map work with Dad, and other resources - so there are far too many to list. (If you're really interested, you can look at our geography bee website, GeoBeeUniverse, to see an incomplete listing under "Resources.")

When they ask, I usually hem and haw and finally just shrug and smile. But one thing I tell them that we did a lot of early on was play games.

We have a number of online geography games listed on our "Fun Stuff" page on GeoBeeUniverse (one of G's favorites is Traveler IQ Challenge), but these are by no means all. There are tons of great options online; it just takes some digging to find the best.

I'll list a few of our favorite board games here.

Take Off!

Take Off! was a perennial favorite. We came back to this game again and again. The map (playing board) was beautiful and durable, and the kids loved the tiny little fleets of jets. One thing we all liked about it was that we could play cooperatively.

The Borderline games were some of our favorites.

Unfortunately, they seem to be discontinued in some places, but Rainbow Resource had Borderline World and Borderline Europe. We have USA and World and played them many, many times. One of the great things about this game(s) is that it's only a bit bigger than the size of a deck of cards, so it's portable. Perfect for tucking in your bag to pull out while waiting in line with cranky kids.

Geo Bee Challenge

This game we played some, but it wasn't one we came back to as often as Borderline.

A couple of geography games that we have heard are fun but don't own:

Scrambled States

Map Tangle

______________

If you enjoyed this post, you might like Cooperative Games.

A good day

Today was one of my favorite types of homeschooling days. We didn't have to be anywhere until late afternoon, and we spent the morning doing our own thing and coming together after lunch for some group work.

We laughed through my off-the-cuff writing/editing lesson, where my kids fixed my "crappiest story of all time, Mom." I can't imagine why they said that. Here, I reproduce for you my story in its entirety. I'm sure you'll agree it's prize-winning material:

bob wanted to spend the day at the beach on his vacation so he loaded up his station waggon and drove down to the beach at the end of island where there was a nice sandy quiet beach with alot of nice white sand once he was there he set up his umbrela and chair and cooler and decided to swim so he went into the water and started swimming because he thought it would be nice to have a swim he went out as deep as his knees and then thought that would be a nice place to start swimming he started swimming and saw that a big shark was heading his way he got very upset when the shark started swimming his way and then bit his legs off he got even more upset when the shark bit off both his arms bob then realized that he couuldnt swim any more he was upset when he realized that he wouldnt be able to swim back to shoar this incident made him realize that he was appropriattly named since he was bobbing in the water bob was so boring and tasteles that the shark vomited up bobs arms and legs where bob was surprised to see that they magicly reattached themselves the end

Okay, so maybe it's not great. Maybe it's not even good. Okay, okay, it stinks. That's the point. They're supposed to make it into something decent, even if the finished product doesn't approach greatness. Unfortunately, I'd made the story so very bad, so horrible, so completely without merit that we ran out of time fixing it. Poor bobbing Bob will have to wait another day to have his story written in gripping prose.

Next on the agenda was reading together. Today we read in Discover magazine"20 Things You Didn't Know about Eclipses." The 20 Things article, found at the back of every magazine, is a favorite read-aloud of ours. The highlight of today's article was when we were talking about symmetry, and S misheard me and said that symmetry was this place where people were laid out in rows after they'd died. Huh? It took me two beats to realize that she was talking about a cemetery. We rolled on the floor laughing about that one for at least five minutes.

But the best part of the day was one of those in-person learning experiences. Those are the best kinds, because the kids see the learning in real life, rather than just reading it in a book or seeing it in an educational video.

The display in my friend's beautiful house. It was splendid.

Today we visited the home of my gracious friend, R, who invited us to visit for Navaratri, a special festival in India - nine nights and ten days of celebration and dancing. (We were only there for an hour of it.) Our mutual friend, Deepa, sang traditional songs in the most beautiful, melodious voice. The entire house - adults and children alike - were entranced. The kids came home talking about the dolls that were displayed, the delectable food that R cooked, and the rich culture of India. She even gave me dinner - home-cooked Indian food, no less - to give to H.

G talked about how India was one of his favorite countries to study because of its incredible history and culture.

What was S's favorite thing? Well, the adorable little wooden elephant that was our gift from R, of course. It's now gracing the lock on the back door.

S's favorite part of our day.

Thank you, my friends, for making our day so special.

________________

If you enjoyed this post, you might like Dangerous Books.

Casualties: 1 ... and Counting

Boys dueling with their "shinai"

I'm a bit late in posting this, but it was too good to ignore. Two Fridays ago was the first week of our weekly cooperative, cleverly called "Friday Co-op," because, well, it's on Fridays. This semester I'm responsible for seven - yes, seven - 4 to 7 year old boys.

In a class called "Arms & Armor."

About weapons.

Weapons they make.

Weapons they beat each other up with.

Yes, you read that right. A class of seven boys, all between the ages of 4 and 7, all geared up to learn about and make weapons for the sole purpose of whacking each other with them. My challenge (let's just go ahead and call it Mission Impossible, shall we?) is to provide these little bundles of destructive energy with a safe learning experience, with the emphasis on safe and a side helping of learning.

To say that it's challenging to find a way to come up with a craft to make a replica of an ancient weapon that's possible for a 4 year old to make, that looks reasonably close, and that's safe is, well, challenging. Ha.

Gearing up to whack someone.

So the first week we visited Japan, talked about Kendo, made shinai (which you see in use here), made shurikens, and talked a bit about the samurai. And only one kid got injured. One out of seven. Pretty good, I'd say.

The boys showing off their handwork.

Last week we did blowdart guns and warrior shields from Borneo, and we talked a bit about the island and its indigenous people, but unfortunately I forgot my camera so didn't get pictures. No one got injured, and only one kid had a hysterical breakdown. Again, pretty good.

This week I'm planning on a quick jaunt to medieval Europe, with plans to make a mace (not to be confused with a flail) and a breastplate. One of our remarkable moms at Co-op lent me her chainmail to show the kids. It's amazing.

I'll post pictures of that after this Friday's class and give a casualty count. Stay tuned.

____________

If you liked this post, you might enjoy Gearing up for School.

I Was Right ... It IS a Conspiracy!

It's happened again ...

I don't know what went wrong. Was it because I left the door open between the laundry room and the kitchen? Was it because the refrigerator is in the same room as the microwave - within talking distance? Or maybe it's that the appliances are all texting each other or having conversations on their cell phones, much like this New York oven.

Whatever the reason, I know this to be true: they're all in cahoots. Today our microwave bit the dust.

At this rate, we'll have every household appliance replaced by next summer. Aargh.

_____________

If you enjoyed this post, you might like The Great Machine Uprising.

Sunday's Gratitude Post

Tonight I'm grateful to be in my own home with my family. I'm grateful that my parents are back in their own home, under the temporary care of my middle sister. I'm grateful that my mom's doctors figured out her pacemaker problem and (hopefully) got it solved. I'm grateful that, for a brief time at least, my father knew me and played with my children. I'll be grateful for that for as long as it lasts.

Sunday's Gratitude Post

Today I'm grateful for lots of things. My father's laugh. My mother's voice. My friends' kindnesses.

My mom was back in the emergency room last Thursday for yet another heart issue. Again, our world was turned upside down. I spent a night without sleep with my mother in the ER waiting for test results, speaking reassuring words, and hoping for the best.

The next morning was the first day of our Friday Co-op, which the kids have been looking forward to all summer. I was a wreck, but our homeschooling friends were supportive and helpful, and I even had one of them bring us dinner that night. I've had so many friends offer such an immeasurable amount of help that it truly astounds me.

One of the joys of the last few days was the time I've spent with my dad. Although he's slipping slowly into the well of dementia, he still is himself in many ways and still is joyful. The kids have always enjoyed his humor, giving him the nickname of The Teaser many years ago. It warmed my heart to see them still have fun with him.

Saturday Quote for the Day

"I'm going to beat you when we get home."

--Me, threatening my kids (in jest) to make sure they "behaved" at this week's API meeting


"At what?"

--G, spoken like a truely attached kid, who doesn't even get threats of physical violence. How am I supposed to exert my momly power when my kids aren't even intimidated?