It's been a long time since I've done a day in the life post. Yesterday (Monday) wasn't a typical homeschool day, but it was a pretty nice one, and despite our best efforts, we got a little work done, even though we weren't supposed to.
Monday is my husband's day off, so my expectations for school work are low. I try to plan for a 4-day week so we can be free on Mondays to do something fun as a family. Lately, Mondays have been pretty busy with medical appointments and such, so it's a family fun day in theory only right now. But, it's nice to be able to hang out with Dad a little too. So, all I demand on Monday is Bible study (we use The Most Important Thing You'll Ever Study: A Survey of the Bible by Starr Meade) and math. Oh, if we have a read-aloud going, we'll try to read some too.
Monday everyone was up pretty early. Dad had some dental work to be done, so he was out of the house shortly after breakfast. There was still some snow on the ground, and rain on the way, so the kids went out to sled. We have a hill that's little more than a slight incline, but it still makes for fun snowboarding practice. So after the kids finished their Bible reading, they were out the door.
Two hours later (!), Dad had returned, the rain had started, so the kids came in. Just as they walked in the door the microwave exploded, so there was some excitement and cleanup needed, including making a whole new pot of hot cocoa.
(The microwave didn't exactly explode. I was running it with a bowl of soapy water inside to create steam to soften up the crud that had accumulated. I guess I created a little too much steam because suddenly the door burst open and water came shooting out all over the stove, surrounding counter, and me. The water wasn't hot, so I didn't get burned, but soapy water flew everywhere, including into the pot of cocoa and all over the new stick of butter in the dish. Between the explosion sound and my scream, it must have seemed like something pretty exciting was going on. My microwave is really clean now.)
Wet clothes were put away and hot cocoa was consumed while the kids checked out American Rhetoric and youtube for an assignment for their speech class. They did that for a while, then I set them to their math. One had a final exam (Life of Fred fractions) and one worked on Khan Academy exercises. I ran out to fill some prescriptions for the dental patient.
Somewhere in there, the kids ate lunch. I don't know what they had, but it probably involved bread and cheese.
After lunch we wanted to settle down to our current read-aloud, The Iliad, but we remembered that my boy had some biology work to finish up from last week. So he and I did that while my girl practiced piano.
Somewhere in there, a few loads of laundry were completed.
Finally in the afternoon we sat down to read. I made it through one book (chapter) before my voice gave out. It was a long one. We talked about it for a while, then it was time for me to think about dinner. While I did that, the kids did some personal reading.
So we got in PE, math, history/literature, science for one, music for the other, all on a day we don't do school.
Today won't look anything that. We'll be more structured with our time and our work. But next Monday won't look anything like that either. Typical day? Not really. But a good day in a long homeschooling life.
Showing posts with label family life. Show all posts
Showing posts with label family life. Show all posts
Tuesday, January 24, 2012
Thursday, January 12, 2012
New frontiers in parenting: Facebook rules
Even before my kids became teens, I was thinking about life with Facebook for them. I entered the world of social media reluctantly myself. Facebook seemed like such a waste of time and energy, I was determined never to fall for it. It wasn't till I discovered that my six nieces and nephews - all adults now and scattered all across the US - lived on Facebook. If I wanted to have a relationship with them, I needed to be there too.
Now I'm there every day, and I love it. I am friends with long-lost relatives, old friends from the past, and newer friends who live all over the place. I see my adult nieces and nephews every day now; I know what's going on in their lives and I can comment freely. Sometimes I see things I'd rather not, but as one friend pointed out, even that helps me focus my prayers for them.
Still, I knew the dangers for teens. So when my kids' teen years approached, I spent some time formulating my rules for social media. When my son turned 13, he couldn't have cared less about Facebook. It was only recently that I got him to sign up, so he could join our church youth group page. My daughter, on the other hand, was ready to rock and roll on her 13trh birthday. I was surprised she wasn't up early that morning, creating her account and downloading photos.
My list of rules, guidelines, and advice for Facebook (and whatever social media outlet may come around next) is pretty long. It's not just about internet safety, but about keeping their hearts safe too. As homeschoolers, my kids are pretty sheltered from middle-school culture, with its gossip and constantly-changing friendships and alliances. They are taking bigger steps into the big bad world and I want them to be ready for it.
Friend only people you know in real life. My kids can't accept any friend requests unless they have personal contact with the person. "Friends of friends" don't count.
Privacy settings are set to the most private. All posts are seen only by friends, not friends of friends. No personal information is listed.
Mom is your friend, and has your password. I do log into my kids' accounts periodically to check for messages and other information that I can't see from their walls. We have always raised our kids to have little to no expectation of privacy from Mom and Dad, so it's not a big deal: they expect it.
"If you wouldn't say it to Grandma, don't say it on Facebook." We have always talked to our kids about the long memory of the internet.
Don't list friends as family members. Your best friend is not your sister, no matter how close you feel today.
Understand that some people will friend you simply to increase their friend count, not because they want a relationship with you. We have already encountered this; an acquaintance of my daughter's - who barely speaks to her when they are in a group together - friended her. She doesn't expect much from that - though it's always possible that a Facebook friendship will pave the way to a real one.
Understand that not everyone you send a friend request to will accept it. Shrug it off and don't let it affect your real-life relationship.
No apps that require personal information about you or your friends. I might have to revisit this at some point, but so far, so good.
No games, period. I might revisit this one sometime, too, but for now, I don't see a bigger potential time-waster in my kids' lives than Facebook games.
While I was working on this, I came across Sarah's great post on the topic: Facebook and Your Teen. She brings up some ideas I hadn't thought of, and I'll be sharing those with my kids as well.
Some parents are afraid of social media. I know mothers who count on their kids' other Facebook friends (adults, such as youth group leaders) to let them know if something goes wrong with their child's Facebooking. I know parents who don't want to intrude on their kids' social lives so don't insist on being friends. This is just crazy to me! We need to stay on top of technology so we can participate and be watchful.
Besides, we don't want the kids to have all the fun, do we?
How are you navigating social media with your teens? Or do you prefer not to?
Now I'm there every day, and I love it. I am friends with long-lost relatives, old friends from the past, and newer friends who live all over the place. I see my adult nieces and nephews every day now; I know what's going on in their lives and I can comment freely. Sometimes I see things I'd rather not, but as one friend pointed out, even that helps me focus my prayers for them.
Still, I knew the dangers for teens. So when my kids' teen years approached, I spent some time formulating my rules for social media. When my son turned 13, he couldn't have cared less about Facebook. It was only recently that I got him to sign up, so he could join our church youth group page. My daughter, on the other hand, was ready to rock and roll on her 13trh birthday. I was surprised she wasn't up early that morning, creating her account and downloading photos.
My list of rules, guidelines, and advice for Facebook (and whatever social media outlet may come around next) is pretty long. It's not just about internet safety, but about keeping their hearts safe too. As homeschoolers, my kids are pretty sheltered from middle-school culture, with its gossip and constantly-changing friendships and alliances. They are taking bigger steps into the big bad world and I want them to be ready for it.
Friend only people you know in real life. My kids can't accept any friend requests unless they have personal contact with the person. "Friends of friends" don't count.
Privacy settings are set to the most private. All posts are seen only by friends, not friends of friends. No personal information is listed.
Mom is your friend, and has your password. I do log into my kids' accounts periodically to check for messages and other information that I can't see from their walls. We have always raised our kids to have little to no expectation of privacy from Mom and Dad, so it's not a big deal: they expect it.
"If you wouldn't say it to Grandma, don't say it on Facebook." We have always talked to our kids about the long memory of the internet.
Don't list friends as family members. Your best friend is not your sister, no matter how close you feel today.
Understand that some people will friend you simply to increase their friend count, not because they want a relationship with you. We have already encountered this; an acquaintance of my daughter's - who barely speaks to her when they are in a group together - friended her. She doesn't expect much from that - though it's always possible that a Facebook friendship will pave the way to a real one.
Understand that not everyone you send a friend request to will accept it. Shrug it off and don't let it affect your real-life relationship.
No apps that require personal information about you or your friends. I might have to revisit this at some point, but so far, so good.
No games, period. I might revisit this one sometime, too, but for now, I don't see a bigger potential time-waster in my kids' lives than Facebook games.
While I was working on this, I came across Sarah's great post on the topic: Facebook and Your Teen. She brings up some ideas I hadn't thought of, and I'll be sharing those with my kids as well.
Some parents are afraid of social media. I know mothers who count on their kids' other Facebook friends (adults, such as youth group leaders) to let them know if something goes wrong with their child's Facebooking. I know parents who don't want to intrude on their kids' social lives so don't insist on being friends. This is just crazy to me! We need to stay on top of technology so we can participate and be watchful.
Besides, we don't want the kids to have all the fun, do we?
How are you navigating social media with your teens? Or do you prefer not to?
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
Works for me: Medical records
It's been a very long time since I've found something to share on Works for me Wednesday - so long that I forgot how to do the linky and put my information in correctly! (Look for #81 - the one with no title!) But I am back with something that does work: my medical record sheet for doctor visits.
This is one of those ideas that seems so simple I'm surprised more people don't do it. But judging from the reactions I get from doctors and their assistants, people don't. And I've been seeing a lot of doctors lately with one of my kids, so it's gotten a lot of use.
Every time we have a doctor's visit, whether for a well-child checkup or a problem, I take a medical record sheet to hand to the doctor or assistant. They love it! It has all the information they need without having to go through a question-and-answer process with me or the child. Here's what it contains:
Child's name and date of birth. Every time we go to the doctor they ask for DoB. I was answering that question for one of my kids so many times that once when asked for mine, I gave my 14-year-old's! I got quite the look when I said "1997."
Current medications, including prescriptions, over-the-counter meds, supplements and even "therapeutic" foods such as probiotic yogurt and raw local honey. When one of my kids was seeing a few different doctors for gastrointestinal problems, I got tired of being asked if he ate yogurt. With the information at hand, the docs don't have to ask anymore.
Recent previous medications prescribed or suggested by a doctor that we've discontinued for whatever reason. One of my kids was seeing a specialist last fall for gastrointestinal issues, so I listed the antibiotics he'd taken over the past year as I suspect they may have been contributing to his sickness. One doctor had prescribed something for nausea that made the kid dizzy; we stopped using it but I kept it on the list for future reference.
Current symptoms - why we are in the office that day. The doctor quickly scans this and then asks more questions, but it gets us beyond the basics quickly.
Previous illnesses that I think might be relevant to the current problem. I keep these records in a file on my computer, so I can update as necessary and easily copy/paste information for each doctor's visit right before we go. I don't go all the way back on this: I wouldn't list my 45-year-old tonsillectomy on my records sheet. We want to keep this to one page!
To help with keeping it short, use bullet points, not chatty sentences. It's very easy for the nurse to review when she updates the medication record, and for the doctor to scan to review symptoms.
This has streamlined our doctor visits and helped me keep track of everything I want to tell them. Our doctors love ii! It works for us and for me!
Get more ideas that work on Works For Me Wednesday at We Are THAT Family.
This is one of those ideas that seems so simple I'm surprised more people don't do it. But judging from the reactions I get from doctors and their assistants, people don't. And I've been seeing a lot of doctors lately with one of my kids, so it's gotten a lot of use.
Every time we have a doctor's visit, whether for a well-child checkup or a problem, I take a medical record sheet to hand to the doctor or assistant. They love it! It has all the information they need without having to go through a question-and-answer process with me or the child. Here's what it contains:
Child's name and date of birth. Every time we go to the doctor they ask for DoB. I was answering that question for one of my kids so many times that once when asked for mine, I gave my 14-year-old's! I got quite the look when I said "1997."
Current medications, including prescriptions, over-the-counter meds, supplements and even "therapeutic" foods such as probiotic yogurt and raw local honey. When one of my kids was seeing a few different doctors for gastrointestinal problems, I got tired of being asked if he ate yogurt. With the information at hand, the docs don't have to ask anymore.
Recent previous medications prescribed or suggested by a doctor that we've discontinued for whatever reason. One of my kids was seeing a specialist last fall for gastrointestinal issues, so I listed the antibiotics he'd taken over the past year as I suspect they may have been contributing to his sickness. One doctor had prescribed something for nausea that made the kid dizzy; we stopped using it but I kept it on the list for future reference.
Current symptoms - why we are in the office that day. The doctor quickly scans this and then asks more questions, but it gets us beyond the basics quickly.
Previous illnesses that I think might be relevant to the current problem. I keep these records in a file on my computer, so I can update as necessary and easily copy/paste information for each doctor's visit right before we go. I don't go all the way back on this: I wouldn't list my 45-year-old tonsillectomy on my records sheet. We want to keep this to one page!
To help with keeping it short, use bullet points, not chatty sentences. It's very easy for the nurse to review when she updates the medication record, and for the doctor to scan to review symptoms.
This has streamlined our doctor visits and helped me keep track of everything I want to tell them. Our doctors love ii! It works for us and for me!
Get more ideas that work on Works For Me Wednesday at We Are THAT Family.
Sunday, January 08, 2012
New frontiers in parenting: Two teenagers
Maybe this place shouldn't be called Two Kid Schoolhouse anymore: There aren't any kids here.
They're both teens now.
Yesterday Eleanor turned 13. James is 14 1/2.
And now that they are teens we are pushing up against some new frontiers: iPods with wifi capability, and Facebook.
We're treading carefully but not hesitantly. We want to be smart about technology, but not scared of it.
My first observation/question: Why would a parent allow a kid to lie about her age to get a Facebook account? The rules say you can join up at age 13. So why are we seeing 12-year-olds on there?
My second observation: Ask 5 people their views on the iPod Touch and wifi access, and you'll get 5 different opinions. For now, we're going with an app that censors objectionable sites based on the child's age and some information I plugged in. Know of anything better? What works for your family?
More to come, as we navigate the teen years.
They're both teens now.
Yesterday Eleanor turned 13. James is 14 1/2.
And now that they are teens we are pushing up against some new frontiers: iPods with wifi capability, and Facebook.
We're treading carefully but not hesitantly. We want to be smart about technology, but not scared of it.
My first observation/question: Why would a parent allow a kid to lie about her age to get a Facebook account? The rules say you can join up at age 13. So why are we seeing 12-year-olds on there?
My second observation: Ask 5 people their views on the iPod Touch and wifi access, and you'll get 5 different opinions. For now, we're going with an app that censors objectionable sites based on the child's age and some information I plugged in. Know of anything better? What works for your family?
More to come, as we navigate the teen years.
Saturday, August 13, 2011
Controller of the Universe
My Boy Scout is away at camp this week. This is his third year at this particular camp with is own troop; his second as a patrol leader. (A patrol is a small group of boys within the larger troop.) This week at camp is usually a highlight of his year. Yes, usually. But not this year.
This year he wasn't so sure about going. He had previously told us that he'd recently started getting homesick while away at weekend camps. This was bothering him so much he skipped one trip earlier this summer. But as a leader, he can't bail out on too many activities. And a Boy Scout who doesn't want to go camping isn't going to be a Boy Scout for long.
So as summer camp approached he was feeling less happy anticipation and more unfocused dread. I know that feeling so well; too well. When he said "I keep hoping that something will happen and camp will be canceled" I knew we were getting into trouble. I often have that feeling when an event is approaching and I don't feel ready for it. It happens almost every time we are expecting company. I attribute it to my own disorganization: it's hard to look forward to a party when the bathroom still needs cleaning and there aren't enough clean forks and glasses an hour before guests are to arrive. But this was different.
As we peeled away the layers of his feelings, we discovered that he's inherited more from me than his love of books: control of the universe. I inherited it from my mom, too! And now I am passing it on to him.
He told me, "I'm afraid something will happen to one of you (meaning our whole family and the dog), or to me, while I'm away."
Yes, there it is: he controls the universe.
As I've been working on myself to relinquish that feeling that I control the universe, I didn't realize that I was just passing it on to him.
We went over all his fears and talked them over - endlessly, it seemed; that last week before camp was exhausting. He listed the bad things that had happened to people at camp. Nearly all of them were the result of poor judgment on the part of the victim, and even the one that seemed like a random, unexpected medical problem could have been caused by a boy simply not drinking enough water on a hot day.
We talked about the fact that we believe in a sovereign God - a God who truly does control the universe. We talked about the fact that God does allow bad things to happen to people, but that we still need to trust in him that it will all come right in the end.
We agreed that God is a better controller of the universe than any of us.
Did that help? I don't know. He stayed at camp. He sent a letter telling of fun during the day and homesickness at night. We will see him tonight for dinner and the closing campfire and awards ceremony. Camp doesn't end till tomorrow morning, so he will stay another night.
When he gets home, we'll start working on him to relinquish his notion of control. I'd like him to give it up before he has a child to pass it on to! That's an inheritance I don't want to leave.
This year he wasn't so sure about going. He had previously told us that he'd recently started getting homesick while away at weekend camps. This was bothering him so much he skipped one trip earlier this summer. But as a leader, he can't bail out on too many activities. And a Boy Scout who doesn't want to go camping isn't going to be a Boy Scout for long.
So as summer camp approached he was feeling less happy anticipation and more unfocused dread. I know that feeling so well; too well. When he said "I keep hoping that something will happen and camp will be canceled" I knew we were getting into trouble. I often have that feeling when an event is approaching and I don't feel ready for it. It happens almost every time we are expecting company. I attribute it to my own disorganization: it's hard to look forward to a party when the bathroom still needs cleaning and there aren't enough clean forks and glasses an hour before guests are to arrive. But this was different.
As we peeled away the layers of his feelings, we discovered that he's inherited more from me than his love of books: control of the universe. I inherited it from my mom, too! And now I am passing it on to him.
He told me, "I'm afraid something will happen to one of you (meaning our whole family and the dog), or to me, while I'm away."
Yes, there it is: he controls the universe.
As I've been working on myself to relinquish that feeling that I control the universe, I didn't realize that I was just passing it on to him.
We went over all his fears and talked them over - endlessly, it seemed; that last week before camp was exhausting. He listed the bad things that had happened to people at camp. Nearly all of them were the result of poor judgment on the part of the victim, and even the one that seemed like a random, unexpected medical problem could have been caused by a boy simply not drinking enough water on a hot day.
We talked about the fact that we believe in a sovereign God - a God who truly does control the universe. We talked about the fact that God does allow bad things to happen to people, but that we still need to trust in him that it will all come right in the end.
We agreed that God is a better controller of the universe than any of us.
Did that help? I don't know. He stayed at camp. He sent a letter telling of fun during the day and homesickness at night. We will see him tonight for dinner and the closing campfire and awards ceremony. Camp doesn't end till tomorrow morning, so he will stay another night.
When he gets home, we'll start working on him to relinquish his notion of control. I'd like him to give it up before he has a child to pass it on to! That's an inheritance I don't want to leave.
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
Jumping on the Pinterest bandwagon
Do I have time for a new social media site?
No, not really. But I was fascinated when a friend told me about Pinterest, the online bulletin board site. Even before I signed up I could see it was a dangerous place. I could spend hours looking at peoples' pins of crafting ideas, recipes, flowers, colors...
It took me a few days to sign up, and then even longer to feel comfortable with it. I was suspicious. How is this site ever going to make money? What kind of information is the "pinmarklet" in my toolbar (the device that allows me to grab the pictures and pin them) gathering? What about copyright?
I searched the web for negative information about the site but couldn't find any. I am still unsure about a few things, but once started, it's hard to stop. I've found lots of new recipes and tons of craft ideas for Eleanor.
Ah, Eleanor. She fell in love when she saw it too, and immediately wanted her own account. But, you've got to be 13, baby. She's got half a year to go. Sigh. Online life begins at 13.
But when she's browsing craft sites and finds something she loves, she pins it to my board. I don't let her browse all of Pinterest herself. I'm not sure I'll want to even once she is 13. Sandy noticed this problem too: there is so much that is beautiful and useful there, but there's the ugliness too. The fashions that - really, you'd wear that? In public? The "cute" sayings in pretty script but with vulgar or profane language. (Why are women all of a sudden so vulgar and profane, anyway?) Pictures of and links to products I don't want my child to know exist.
I'll be looking for boards to follow that my daughter can look at and enjoy with me. So if you have a Pinterest account, and it's family-friendly, please let me know. Or come find me there. You can see the red button on the left. It rather stands out in my blues, doesn't it?
You might find things you don't like in my boards, but you won't find anything your daughter shouldn't see.
No, not really. But I was fascinated when a friend told me about Pinterest, the online bulletin board site. Even before I signed up I could see it was a dangerous place. I could spend hours looking at peoples' pins of crafting ideas, recipes, flowers, colors...
It took me a few days to sign up, and then even longer to feel comfortable with it. I was suspicious. How is this site ever going to make money? What kind of information is the "pinmarklet" in my toolbar (the device that allows me to grab the pictures and pin them) gathering? What about copyright?
I searched the web for negative information about the site but couldn't find any. I am still unsure about a few things, but once started, it's hard to stop. I've found lots of new recipes and tons of craft ideas for Eleanor.
Ah, Eleanor. She fell in love when she saw it too, and immediately wanted her own account. But, you've got to be 13, baby. She's got half a year to go. Sigh. Online life begins at 13.
But when she's browsing craft sites and finds something she loves, she pins it to my board. I don't let her browse all of Pinterest herself. I'm not sure I'll want to even once she is 13. Sandy noticed this problem too: there is so much that is beautiful and useful there, but there's the ugliness too. The fashions that - really, you'd wear that? In public? The "cute" sayings in pretty script but with vulgar or profane language. (Why are women all of a sudden so vulgar and profane, anyway?) Pictures of and links to products I don't want my child to know exist.
I'll be looking for boards to follow that my daughter can look at and enjoy with me. So if you have a Pinterest account, and it's family-friendly, please let me know. Or come find me there. You can see the red button on the left. It rather stands out in my blues, doesn't it?
You might find things you don't like in my boards, but you won't find anything your daughter shouldn't see.
Friday, June 24, 2011
Feels like coming home
Mention Watkins Glen to most people, and they will think of auto racing. But some of us know what Watkins Glen is really all about.
Watkins Glen is a village, and a state park, in the Finger Lakes region of New York, right at the bottom of Seneca Lake. As a kid, I camped there with my family. Glen Creek runs through the park, and has cut a stunning one-and-a-half mile gorge full of waterfalls and wonder. I don't know how many times we visited, but the last time had to be sometime before 1965, so I was pretty young. I remembered that I loved it, though, and went back in about 1983 on my own for a brief walk-through on my way between a family wedding and an old-friend reunion.
800+ steps carved into the stone.
Since we moved back east in 2007, I've been thinking about the glen off and on. I wanted to go back! But our time was so limited during those seminary years. I despaired of showing my own kids this favorite childhood place. But we were given a gift of time, and found 3 days for vacation. Only 3 days! But enough time to drive the four hours north.
View of the creek from above.
I haven't lived in New York since I was a little girl and certainly don't think of New York as home anymore. Yet as we approached the border I felt this odd sense of coming home. I was so excited to be in New York State again. I was ready to motor right on up to the Glen and get on the trail through the gorge. But we had decided to stop in Corning at the Corning Museum of Glass. That was interesting and enjoyable, but I was restless. I wanted to get moving!
There are 3 falls you can walk behind.
By the time we reached the village of Watkins Glen, everyone was tired and hungry. We went to our motel, rested a minute and then went to find dinner. By the time that was done, it was near dark and too late to go to the park. Our motel was just across the street from one of the entrances, but... I had to wait.
The Suspension Bridge, 85 feet above the creek. One year, flood waters came within 5 feet of the bridge.
The next morning I woke up early, way too early. Thunder! The forecast had mentioned the threat of rain, but not till the afternoon. We thought we had the morning for our hike. Once again I felt restless and couldn't go back to sleep. Finally I got up and dressed as quietly as I could. The rain had stopped. I slipped out the door and walked across the street to the park. I didn't really want to get into the gorge till I had my family with me. I just wandered a little bit and stood over the creek on the suspension bridge. That is above the gorge trail, so technically I wasn't on it. Finally I felt as if I could breathe. I was home!
When I got back to the motel, people were starting to move. I tried not to be impatient and hustle them too much. I endured breakfast at Burger King and then we were off. Rather than walking to the entrance close to the motel, we drove to the main gate. I didn't want to start the trail in the middle. Though I don't have a good picture of it, there is a tunnel through the stone to begin the trail. I wanted my family to experience the Glen that way.
They were as enchanted with the Glen as I was. Who wouldn't be? It is a truly magical place.
We spent the morning hiking, then went off to spend the afternoon on other adventures. But this morning, the last day of our trip, Eleanor and I got up early and slipped out together. We went to the playground and checked out the lily pond. We also looked at the pool and made our plan for the day...
We did do some other fun things on this short trip, but the visit to the Glen was the highlight for me. I don't know if I'll ever go back. If I don't I hope my kids will. And their kids, and their kids...
Some Watkins Glen linkage for you:
Slide show of the gorge and park information from nyfalls.com
New York State Office of Parks, Recreation, and Historic Preseveration
Saturday, June 18, 2011
In and out
Just when I think I am going to start blogging again, I get busy, or bored, or can't think of anything to say. And weeks go by...
Last week the kids had work mowing lawns and babysitting, and their bank accounts are growing. I'm happy to see that they like earning money.
I actually finished a book in a relatively short amount of time. I'm still not sure I liked it, but I might talk about it more another time. It's Children and Fire by Ursula Hegi, an author I have had mixed experience with. Her books remind me a little of Zola's - grim, realistic fiction, well-written. Not lovely, really.
We also spent a lot of time this week working in the garage and receiving a load of furniture and other belongings that we'd left behind in Oregon when we left four years ago. It's been challenging finding space for some of the things, and there are more than a few items we wished we'd told our renters to leave at the house. I am happy about some additional storage space! Eleanor has a "new" dresser in her room, a sweet old thing my mother had bought for me years ago at an antiques auction. And I'm happy that my mom's old marble-topped, tile-backed washstand fit in my room (after we moved a small bookcase out); that is a treasure and I'm happy to have it back.
Summer school? Hasn't happened yet. The intern starts his job in another week and then maybe the kids and I will get back to a routine. We have a lot of books we want to read, and a lot of places we want to go.
Last week the kids had work mowing lawns and babysitting, and their bank accounts are growing. I'm happy to see that they like earning money.
I actually finished a book in a relatively short amount of time. I'm still not sure I liked it, but I might talk about it more another time. It's Children and Fire by Ursula Hegi, an author I have had mixed experience with. Her books remind me a little of Zola's - grim, realistic fiction, well-written. Not lovely, really.
We also spent a lot of time this week working in the garage and receiving a load of furniture and other belongings that we'd left behind in Oregon when we left four years ago. It's been challenging finding space for some of the things, and there are more than a few items we wished we'd told our renters to leave at the house. I am happy about some additional storage space! Eleanor has a "new" dresser in her room, a sweet old thing my mother had bought for me years ago at an antiques auction. And I'm happy that my mom's old marble-topped, tile-backed washstand fit in my room (after we moved a small bookcase out); that is a treasure and I'm happy to have it back.
Summer school? Hasn't happened yet. The intern starts his job in another week and then maybe the kids and I will get back to a routine. We have a lot of books we want to read, and a lot of places we want to go.
Thursday, May 26, 2011
Graduation Day
We always knew that the time would go by quickly, but here it is already graduation day for the seminarian. I guess I have to come up with a new name for him. The intern? Probably not.
Sometimes the last four years seemed so hard. It seemed like the school years would never end. Other times it seemed like it'd be fun to just go on like this forever.
Not a whole lot will change in our lives after graduation day. The graduate will have a few weeks off, then he'll start an internship at a local church. We will change churches, but not houses. We'll still be friends, we hope, with the people we came to know and love at our old church. We'll make some new friends. We hope!
This year will go by fast, too, and then it'll be time for the next adventure. What will it be? Where will it be?
Sometimes the last four years seemed so hard. It seemed like the school years would never end. Other times it seemed like it'd be fun to just go on like this forever.
Not a whole lot will change in our lives after graduation day. The graduate will have a few weeks off, then he'll start an internship at a local church. We will change churches, but not houses. We'll still be friends, we hope, with the people we came to know and love at our old church. We'll make some new friends. We hope!
This year will go by fast, too, and then it'll be time for the next adventure. What will it be? Where will it be?
Friday, May 13, 2011
Summer School
May and June are the golden months in our little homeschool. By early May we have logged our required 180 days of education for the state of Pennsylvania. I can start counting again on July 1. So these weeks in between are the best time of the year.
After 4 years homeschooling here I've come to the conclusion that the portfolios and evaluations don't really bother me. It's day-counting that I find so onerous. I've written about this too many times to go into detail again, but the counting really does intrude on our days. I just don't like having to write down what we did, and deciding if it's a full or half day, or not a day at all. I don't like thinking about what counts and what doesn't.
Not much changes with regard to our daily activities whether I cam counting days or not. We have as many outside distractions in the summer as we do the rest of the year. In the winter we have snow days; in the spring we have mosquito- and cicada-free days. I don't like to stop everything in the summer. It gets boring, for one thing. And in my experience, too much vacation just makes people lazy.
So we have some summer school plans. We'll take some weeks of vacation, of course. But otherwise, we will keep up some academics.
Monday/Wednesday/Friday will be Math, Latin, Omnibus reading and discussions, workouts at the Y. James will do Boy Scout merit badge work, and Eleanor will practice piano and do lots of crafts. Both will read and will continue to log their books.
Tuesday/Thursday: House and yard work and projects. We have a lot to do around here. This is the year we build a shed. I hope! And most likely, more reading because the reading is good. We like to read science books together, and I've gotten a few out from the library that look promising.
There will still be time for hiking, going swimming at the Y, riding bikes, and just hanging out. There will be entire weeks without math, but not 12 weeks all in one big chunk. Maybe a chunk of three, tops.
A little work, a little fun, a little learning, and no time for boredom. That looks like a good summer to me.
After 4 years homeschooling here I've come to the conclusion that the portfolios and evaluations don't really bother me. It's day-counting that I find so onerous. I've written about this too many times to go into detail again, but the counting really does intrude on our days. I just don't like having to write down what we did, and deciding if it's a full or half day, or not a day at all. I don't like thinking about what counts and what doesn't.
Not much changes with regard to our daily activities whether I cam counting days or not. We have as many outside distractions in the summer as we do the rest of the year. In the winter we have snow days; in the spring we have mosquito- and cicada-free days. I don't like to stop everything in the summer. It gets boring, for one thing. And in my experience, too much vacation just makes people lazy.
So we have some summer school plans. We'll take some weeks of vacation, of course. But otherwise, we will keep up some academics.
Monday/Wednesday/Friday will be Math, Latin, Omnibus reading and discussions, workouts at the Y. James will do Boy Scout merit badge work, and Eleanor will practice piano and do lots of crafts. Both will read and will continue to log their books.
Tuesday/Thursday: House and yard work and projects. We have a lot to do around here. This is the year we build a shed. I hope! And most likely, more reading because the reading is good. We like to read science books together, and I've gotten a few out from the library that look promising.
There will still be time for hiking, going swimming at the Y, riding bikes, and just hanging out. There will be entire weeks without math, but not 12 weeks all in one big chunk. Maybe a chunk of three, tops.
A little work, a little fun, a little learning, and no time for boredom. That looks like a good summer to me.
Saturday, May 07, 2011
Field trip: Washington, DC
After nearly four years on the east coast, we finally made it to Washington. Proximity to DC was one of the selling points we used with our kids to ease our move here from Oregon and they'd been waiting for this trip for a long time. But, we underestimated the time we'd have for such trips during the seminary years and kept putting it off.
Then, as graduation neared, we panicked: what if we have to move this summer and don't have time to go? So we went during the seminarian's spring break. Which is everyone's spring break. Not the ideal time for a homeschooling family to go to a major tourist attraction. But, we took our chance.
We planned on a one-night stay. Since it's a 3-hour drive from our home, that would give us two full days to explore, if we got up early enough the first morning. I cracked the whip, had everyone packed the night before, planned breakfast on the road, and set several alarms. We set a family record for getting up and out by 7 am. I had found a reasonably-priced room outside of town and near a metro train station. It also included our most important feature: "free" breakfast, or as we say around here, breakfast included in the price. This is a key time- and money-saver for us. Nothing like getting up in the morning, ready to rock and roll, and having to think about where to find breakfast.
Most people we mentioned the trip to suggested their must-see places. Some were dubious that we would have a good time in only two days. A few imagined us frantically running from place to place, barely having time to snap a photo of some important building, monument, or exhibit before moving on.
But they don't know how we work.
Ever since we started taking our kids places, we have cautioned them that they won't see everything. Zoo, amusement park, museum - they have been warned that in one visit they won't see it all. Of course sometimes it has worked out that we can see it all; if we have the time and the place is the right size. But because of the way we visit such places, we usually can't. We just aren't fast. We like to look closely at exhibits. We like to ponder the art. We like to sit down sometimes and just enjoy the surroundings. We like to take photos.
When we were satisfied that we'd seen them all, it was time for museums. We started out together at the American History Museum, and that's where we split up. Eleanor and I went to see the First Ladies' dresses, and James and Dad took off to see some old ship or something. This is another key to enjoying trips like this: split up when necessary! Naturally, it works better for some family configurations than others, and ours is pretty easy. But I was surprised at the number of families traveling in packs with one or more kids complaining about the things they were seeing. I suppose some boys and men would like to view ballgowns, but... I saw many who were just in agony. It was crowded, hot, and, let's face it - for most boys, excruciatingly boring.
Here is one way to make a museum visit not fun:
Dad: "Now we're going to the Air & Space Museum."
7-ish-year-old girl: "I don't want to go there."
Dad: (angrily): "Well, you can just wait outside, then!"
Mom stood there looking embarrassed. The siblings rolled their eyes. Everyone stomped out; no one looked happy. Why couldn't the mom take the little girl somewhere else? Everyone, even most teens, have cell phones, so it's easy to reconnect when it's time. Why force togetherness? Our exception to that was the memorials. Eleanor wasn't too keen on seeing all of them, but the rest of us were. And, I think they are important. More on that another day.
Our next stop was the Natural History museum, and we split up again. Eleanor and I spent a lot of time at a special display of orchids and at the gemstone area.
At that point we ran out of energy, made our way to the train and then to our hotel.
Next day, after our included-in-the-price breakfast, we got back on the train and went straight back to the Natural History museum to finish up. The, it was time for [cue dramatic music] the Air & Space.
Eleanor and I ditched the men right then and went to the Botanical Garden down the street. We strolled through the conservatory and outdoor gardens. She took a lot of photos.
She and I eventually made our way over to Air & Space and let James show us a few exhibits that were important to him. Then we left again for the National Gallery of Art, across the street. One treat there was seeing a Rembrandt self-portrait, and an artist working on a copy of it. Fun!
Just about the time the Gallery closed the seminarian called to say they were finishing up. We met on the mall and pondered our options. Most of us were done. We'd seen enough museum exhibits. James said "I could keep going to museums and never get bored. But my feet and legs hurt." We agreed it was time to hit the road.
We didn't take a Capitol tour. We walked by the White House and wondered what the horde of people lingering at the fence thought they'd see there. We didn't make it to the Library of Congress (bummer for the parents) but, maybe next time.
Then, as graduation neared, we panicked: what if we have to move this summer and don't have time to go? So we went during the seminarian's spring break. Which is everyone's spring break. Not the ideal time for a homeschooling family to go to a major tourist attraction. But, we took our chance.
We planned on a one-night stay. Since it's a 3-hour drive from our home, that would give us two full days to explore, if we got up early enough the first morning. I cracked the whip, had everyone packed the night before, planned breakfast on the road, and set several alarms. We set a family record for getting up and out by 7 am. I had found a reasonably-priced room outside of town and near a metro train station. It also included our most important feature: "free" breakfast, or as we say around here, breakfast included in the price. This is a key time- and money-saver for us. Nothing like getting up in the morning, ready to rock and roll, and having to think about where to find breakfast.
Most people we mentioned the trip to suggested their must-see places. Some were dubious that we would have a good time in only two days. A few imagined us frantically running from place to place, barely having time to snap a photo of some important building, monument, or exhibit before moving on.
But they don't know how we work.
Ever since we started taking our kids places, we have cautioned them that they won't see everything. Zoo, amusement park, museum - they have been warned that in one visit they won't see it all. Of course sometimes it has worked out that we can see it all; if we have the time and the place is the right size. But because of the way we visit such places, we usually can't. We just aren't fast. We like to look closely at exhibits. We like to ponder the art. We like to sit down sometimes and just enjoy the surroundings. We like to take photos.
She must not have liked the photo she was taking here; I couldn't find it.
.
The week before the trip I sat the kids down at the website for the Smithsonian museums and the Google map of the National Mall area, and told them to figure out what they wanted to see most. I limited them to the Mall and told them to be specific about exhibits within the museums so we would be sure to see what was important. James wanted to see all the monuments and memorials, and the Natural History and Air & Space Museums. Eleanor wanted to see the Natural History museum, specifically the crocheted coral reef exhibit, the First Ladies dresses at the American History Museum, and the US Botanical Garden. Further down the list were the White House and Capitol.
They would have been happy to see more, but these were their most important places.
We arrived at our suburban metro station at 10:30, and within about half an hour were stepping out of the Smithsonian station. We'd planned to spend the first day checking out the monuments, and that's just what we did. We saw them all. Because I'd neglected to obtain a map ahead of time, we didn't do it the most efficient way, but we got to see everything.
The World War II Memorial, which is just stunning.
When we were satisfied that we'd seen them all, it was time for museums. We started out together at the American History Museum, and that's where we split up. Eleanor and I went to see the First Ladies' dresses, and James and Dad took off to see some old ship or something. This is another key to enjoying trips like this: split up when necessary! Naturally, it works better for some family configurations than others, and ours is pretty easy. But I was surprised at the number of families traveling in packs with one or more kids complaining about the things they were seeing. I suppose some boys and men would like to view ballgowns, but... I saw many who were just in agony. It was crowded, hot, and, let's face it - for most boys, excruciatingly boring.
Here is one way to make a museum visit not fun:
Dad: "Now we're going to the Air & Space Museum."
7-ish-year-old girl: "I don't want to go there."
Dad: (angrily): "Well, you can just wait outside, then!"
Mom stood there looking embarrassed. The siblings rolled their eyes. Everyone stomped out; no one looked happy. Why couldn't the mom take the little girl somewhere else? Everyone, even most teens, have cell phones, so it's easy to reconnect when it's time. Why force togetherness? Our exception to that was the memorials. Eleanor wasn't too keen on seeing all of them, but the rest of us were. And, I think they are important. More on that another day.
Our next stop was the Natural History museum, and we split up again. Eleanor and I spent a lot of time at a special display of orchids and at the gemstone area.
Detail from a huge sheet of copper.
At that point we ran out of energy, made our way to the train and then to our hotel.
Next day, after our included-in-the-price breakfast, we got back on the train and went straight back to the Natural History museum to finish up. The, it was time for [cue dramatic music] the Air & Space.
Eleanor and I ditched the men right then and went to the Botanical Garden down the street. We strolled through the conservatory and outdoor gardens. She took a lot of photos.
A passion flower.
She and I eventually made our way over to Air & Space and let James show us a few exhibits that were important to him. Then we left again for the National Gallery of Art, across the street. One treat there was seeing a Rembrandt self-portrait, and an artist working on a copy of it. Fun!
Just about the time the Gallery closed the seminarian called to say they were finishing up. We met on the mall and pondered our options. Most of us were done. We'd seen enough museum exhibits. James said "I could keep going to museums and never get bored. But my feet and legs hurt." We agreed it was time to hit the road.
We didn't take a Capitol tour. We walked by the White House and wondered what the horde of people lingering at the fence thought they'd see there. We didn't make it to the Library of Congress (bummer for the parents) but, maybe next time.
Oh look, we did see the Capitol!
We saw a lot, and no one went home disappointed because he missed something important, or mad because she'd had to endure something that was (in her opinion) dull.
But no, we didn't see it all. We never do. We never try. And we're happier that way.
Saturday, March 26, 2011
Eight minutes from right now
My Boy Scout James is away this weekend at his troop's annual cooking contest campout. Each group of boys - a patrol - plans and makes a delicious meal in competition with each other. This is his second year attending, but his first as leader of a patrol and thus in charge of the meal. At 5 pm - just 8 minutes away - the judges (adult leaders of the troop) will be at his patrol's table to see how their meal turned out.
James is not a cook, though he has been practicing. And this is not a stereotypical Scout camp meal, of meat and veggies wrapped in foil and buried in the coals. The boys are required to cook at least part of their meal in the Dutch oven. They have to brown their meat, not just toss it into the pot. The meal must be balanced meal with protein, carbs, vegetable, etc. A dessert is required. A beverage too - and water from the canteen doesn't count.
They earn points for difficulty, healthfulness, and presentation, among other things. It's a big deal, lots of work and lots of fun. For example, James took a stick of butter for his bread, but also a container of cream so they could make their own. This was a last-minute addition. He had asked one of this friends, a senior Scout, if taking butter would cost points. No, he was told - but if you make your own, you'll gain points! Same question about taking homemade chicken broth. (James made it from a chicken he cooked a few weeks ago at a cooking workshop at his Scoutmaster's house.) It's fine, but it would be better if he hauled a chicken carcass up to camp and made the broth there. Yikes. That takes a lot of time and a lot of firewood. He won't worry about those extra points.
I am almost certain he forgot one semi-essential ingredient: sugar for his dessert. But the recipe also includes honey, and I'm pretty sure - no actually I'm just hopeful - that he will realize he can just add more of that to make up for the missing sugar. Maybe one of the other boys in his patrol will mention that, if he forgets.
He is a forgetful boy, and likely to be a bit stressed.
He forgot the gloves for chopping up the jalapenos. Those are not essential, but might gain him points for safe cooking..
His menu is chicken peanut stew, chapatis, couscous with honey, cinnamon, and nuts, and mango soda. I know all this because I helped him practice it, but also because he typed up a nice menu for the judges to see on his table. Too bad he left it behind.
The mango soda is just mango nectar mixed with seltzer. It's delicious.
Though he is the leader, the other boys were invited to contribute ideas to the dinner. However, they did not care to. I know that because they sat around my kitchen table one night talking about it, and other than approving the stew didn't express much interest. I suspect they won't like the dessert - it does seem a little odd - but he wanted something more in keeping with his North African-ish theme than the typical apple cobbler.
All day I've wanted to text him to ask how it's going. But Mommy needs to stay out of it, and he's not supposed to have his phone in his pocket during camp anyway. I did ask him, if he could do it without breaking camp rules and embarrassing himself, to let me know how it went after it's all done. I can wait till tomorrow afternoon when he gets home... but I don't want to.
Well, it's 5:10 and the judges should have moved on to the next patrol. I'm a little sad I can't be there to see all this, but... it's right that's I'm not there.
This post was inspired by my friend Maria who knows exactly what I'm talking about.
James is not a cook, though he has been practicing. And this is not a stereotypical Scout camp meal, of meat and veggies wrapped in foil and buried in the coals. The boys are required to cook at least part of their meal in the Dutch oven. They have to brown their meat, not just toss it into the pot. The meal must be balanced meal with protein, carbs, vegetable, etc. A dessert is required. A beverage too - and water from the canteen doesn't count.
They earn points for difficulty, healthfulness, and presentation, among other things. It's a big deal, lots of work and lots of fun. For example, James took a stick of butter for his bread, but also a container of cream so they could make their own. This was a last-minute addition. He had asked one of this friends, a senior Scout, if taking butter would cost points. No, he was told - but if you make your own, you'll gain points! Same question about taking homemade chicken broth. (James made it from a chicken he cooked a few weeks ago at a cooking workshop at his Scoutmaster's house.) It's fine, but it would be better if he hauled a chicken carcass up to camp and made the broth there. Yikes. That takes a lot of time and a lot of firewood. He won't worry about those extra points.
I am almost certain he forgot one semi-essential ingredient: sugar for his dessert. But the recipe also includes honey, and I'm pretty sure - no actually I'm just hopeful - that he will realize he can just add more of that to make up for the missing sugar. Maybe one of the other boys in his patrol will mention that, if he forgets.
He is a forgetful boy, and likely to be a bit stressed.
He forgot the gloves for chopping up the jalapenos. Those are not essential, but might gain him points for safe cooking..
His menu is chicken peanut stew, chapatis, couscous with honey, cinnamon, and nuts, and mango soda. I know all this because I helped him practice it, but also because he typed up a nice menu for the judges to see on his table. Too bad he left it behind.
The mango soda is just mango nectar mixed with seltzer. It's delicious.
Though he is the leader, the other boys were invited to contribute ideas to the dinner. However, they did not care to. I know that because they sat around my kitchen table one night talking about it, and other than approving the stew didn't express much interest. I suspect they won't like the dessert - it does seem a little odd - but he wanted something more in keeping with his North African-ish theme than the typical apple cobbler.
All day I've wanted to text him to ask how it's going. But Mommy needs to stay out of it, and he's not supposed to have his phone in his pocket during camp anyway. I did ask him, if he could do it without breaking camp rules and embarrassing himself, to let me know how it went after it's all done. I can wait till tomorrow afternoon when he gets home... but I don't want to.
Well, it's 5:10 and the judges should have moved on to the next patrol. I'm a little sad I can't be there to see all this, but... it's right that's I'm not there.
This post was inspired by my friend Maria who knows exactly what I'm talking about.
Another way my kids are growing up differently than I did.
I'm getting ready to run out to the library to pick up a copy of "The Sound of Music" to watch with Eleanor today. I am not that interested in it but she is sickly and her brother is away at camp and this is what she would like to do. We just got Netflix but it's not available to watch instantly; nothing in the vast queue we've accumulated seems interesting enough to her right now. I know how that is, when a kid is sick.
But here is where my title comes in: she won't want to watch it alone. It struck me today that my kids rarely watch tv or a movie alone. James will occasionally watch some military thing by himself. I think he'd like the company but no one wants to join him. I don't think Eleanor ever has, though.
They'd mostly rather not watch TV if they are going to be there alone.
I think about all hours I spent in front of the TV as a kid, alone and with my siblings and parents. Or friends. But a lot alone. When I was in junior high I even had my own tv in my room for a little while. It only got the local channel, but it was good for my soaps after school. "Dark Shadows!" "One Life to Live." Ah, stop me before I go googling Vikki and Nikki and Barnabas.
Anyway, this was just interesting to me this morning. I'm glad my kids don't spend mindless hours in front of the television. I don't spend that much time myself, and I can usually make it productive with knitting or mending or even folding laundry. Maybe I would have liked it if my Mom had watched "Dark Shadows" with me sometimes. I wonder what she was doing while I was watching all that TV?
But here is where my title comes in: she won't want to watch it alone. It struck me today that my kids rarely watch tv or a movie alone. James will occasionally watch some military thing by himself. I think he'd like the company but no one wants to join him. I don't think Eleanor ever has, though.
They'd mostly rather not watch TV if they are going to be there alone.
I think about all hours I spent in front of the TV as a kid, alone and with my siblings and parents. Or friends. But a lot alone. When I was in junior high I even had my own tv in my room for a little while. It only got the local channel, but it was good for my soaps after school. "Dark Shadows!" "One Life to Live." Ah, stop me before I go googling Vikki and Nikki and Barnabas.
Anyway, this was just interesting to me this morning. I'm glad my kids don't spend mindless hours in front of the television. I don't spend that much time myself, and I can usually make it productive with knitting or mending or even folding laundry. Maybe I would have liked it if my Mom had watched "Dark Shadows" with me sometimes. I wonder what she was doing while I was watching all that TV?
Wednesday, February 02, 2011
Sunday, January 30, 2011
It's amazing how much talk can be packed into a seven-minute drive when something needs to be said.
Last night I drove my boy off on another adventure. Not camping with the Scouts this time, but participating in a robotics competition someplace about a hundred miles from here. He spent the night at his robotics club leader's house so they could get an early start in the morning.
Before we left, the seminarian said goodbye and asked him if there was anything I'd neglected to lecture him about. No, James said, "she's pretty thorough." We went over the location of the spending money, the phone, the key, the team t-shirt...
As always, I started crying a little bit as we left the house. "Why do you always start bawling, Mom?" he asked. He was very polite, but I know it's annoying. We talked about how hard it is for parents to watch their kids grow up and start doing things separate from the family. He speculated that he'd understand one day, when he is a parent, and I told him that he might not because typically it's the mom who has the harder time. Then I wondered how he felt about us not going along to watch the competition. We would like to see one, but it didn't work out for us to go this time. He said he didn't mind, and actually kind of liked it, being on his own with his friends.
But I was not quite satisfied. He had told me earlier that one of the families had driven up to the competition location the day before, staying in a hotel overnight to avoid the long drive in the morning. The whole family was going to watch the competition. I wondered if he felt neglected because we didn't do that. No, he said, he didn't. He said he likes having something that is his own. And he added that he likes the freedom. I didn't ask exactly what he felt free of. A crying mommie, for one thing.
I pulled into the driveway and he jumped out quickly. He grabbed his things out of the back seat, said "Love you Mom," slammed the car door and walked up to the house. I watched as he rang the bell and as his friend greeted him. They nodded in that way men have. He walked in the door, and then it was shut.
He never looked back.
I guess that's what we want, isn't it?
Last night I drove my boy off on another adventure. Not camping with the Scouts this time, but participating in a robotics competition someplace about a hundred miles from here. He spent the night at his robotics club leader's house so they could get an early start in the morning.
Before we left, the seminarian said goodbye and asked him if there was anything I'd neglected to lecture him about. No, James said, "she's pretty thorough." We went over the location of the spending money, the phone, the key, the team t-shirt...
As always, I started crying a little bit as we left the house. "Why do you always start bawling, Mom?" he asked. He was very polite, but I know it's annoying. We talked about how hard it is for parents to watch their kids grow up and start doing things separate from the family. He speculated that he'd understand one day, when he is a parent, and I told him that he might not because typically it's the mom who has the harder time. Then I wondered how he felt about us not going along to watch the competition. We would like to see one, but it didn't work out for us to go this time. He said he didn't mind, and actually kind of liked it, being on his own with his friends.
But I was not quite satisfied. He had told me earlier that one of the families had driven up to the competition location the day before, staying in a hotel overnight to avoid the long drive in the morning. The whole family was going to watch the competition. I wondered if he felt neglected because we didn't do that. No, he said, he didn't. He said he likes having something that is his own. And he added that he likes the freedom. I didn't ask exactly what he felt free of. A crying mommie, for one thing.
I pulled into the driveway and he jumped out quickly. He grabbed his things out of the back seat, said "Love you Mom," slammed the car door and walked up to the house. I watched as he rang the bell and as his friend greeted him. They nodded in that way men have. He walked in the door, and then it was shut.
He never looked back.
I guess that's what we want, isn't it?
Saturday, January 22, 2011
A world I don't fit into
Today my girlie has a friend over. It's an all-day, all-night playdate. Fun. They've scrapbooked and goofed around and now they're working on a Broadway-style production. I love this girl and her family.
So I'm not annoyed as much as puzzled by this exchange with our young guest.
Eleanor: Be careful! Don't squish your cellphone! (The girls were climbing in and out of a big shipping box and taking turns decorating it. Yeah, they're 10 1/2 and 12 and still play in boxes.)
Guest: It's getting in the way!
Me: Where is it?
Guest: It's in my pocket!
Me: Why don't you just put your phone with your other stuff? You don't need it now.
Guest: Well, my friends keep texting me to ask where I am. And I have to text them back to say "I'm with a friend and can't talk now" but they text me back to ask what I'm doing and I text again to say "I can't talk now!"
Me: Why don't you just stop answering them then? You don't have to respond immediately.
She didn't answer this. Not out of rudeness; she just didn't have anything to say. And their game went on.
I don't get the impression that the phone and the texting was troublesome to Eleanor, who does not have her own cellphone and has never received a text in her life. (She has sent a few to her Dad, dictated by me while driving.) I haven't had a chance to ask if it bothered her, and will probably forget about it by the time I do. It's not particularly troublesome to me, except: here is this girl, not even a teen yet, who already feels the urgency of responding immediately to every text message from friends. While, by the way, at the home of another friend.
Of course, it would seem rude to the texting friends if she didn't respond to them immediately. Because they know she has the phone, and that she has constant access to it. It's not as if she might be out of the house and away from the home phone. She has the phone, she can answer the phone... so she must answer the phone.
I know I'm getting old but I just don't want to be a part of that world. And I don't want my kids to either.
But I don't guess I can stop it.
Do you ever ignore your cell phone? Do your kids?
So I'm not annoyed as much as puzzled by this exchange with our young guest.
Eleanor: Be careful! Don't squish your cellphone! (The girls were climbing in and out of a big shipping box and taking turns decorating it. Yeah, they're 10 1/2 and 12 and still play in boxes.)
Guest: It's getting in the way!
Me: Where is it?
Guest: It's in my pocket!
Me: Why don't you just put your phone with your other stuff? You don't need it now.
Guest: Well, my friends keep texting me to ask where I am. And I have to text them back to say "I'm with a friend and can't talk now" but they text me back to ask what I'm doing and I text again to say "I can't talk now!"
Me: Why don't you just stop answering them then? You don't have to respond immediately.
She didn't answer this. Not out of rudeness; she just didn't have anything to say. And their game went on.
I don't get the impression that the phone and the texting was troublesome to Eleanor, who does not have her own cellphone and has never received a text in her life. (She has sent a few to her Dad, dictated by me while driving.) I haven't had a chance to ask if it bothered her, and will probably forget about it by the time I do. It's not particularly troublesome to me, except: here is this girl, not even a teen yet, who already feels the urgency of responding immediately to every text message from friends. While, by the way, at the home of another friend.
Of course, it would seem rude to the texting friends if she didn't respond to them immediately. Because they know she has the phone, and that she has constant access to it. It's not as if she might be out of the house and away from the home phone. She has the phone, she can answer the phone... so she must answer the phone.
I know I'm getting old but I just don't want to be a part of that world. And I don't want my kids to either.
But I don't guess I can stop it.
Do you ever ignore your cell phone? Do your kids?
Sunday, January 02, 2011
Push
My boy is a pretty good Boy Scout. He does what he's told and doesn't cause trouble. He's enthusiastic and helpful, I hear. He's advanced appropriately and has been given responsibility as a leader of a patrol (a group of boys within a troop). So he does pretty well.
But he's not what you call a self-starter. He's at the point now where he gets to pick the badges he wants to earn, and start working on them. No one is pushing him to do any particular work; it's up to him to earn the badges he needs to advance in rank. He reached this point early last fall, but he hasn't started working on any badges yet. This isn't because there aren't any badges he's interested in; there are many. He settled on two a few months ago. Now he just can't get started.
So every week or so I ask him what he's doing. The answer, of course, is nothing, which causes me to get frustrated and start to wonder what is wrong with this kid? I ask him if he's not interested in advancing in Scouts; no, it's not that. I ask if he's done with Scouts (while praying he is not) and he looks at me as if I have two heads and no, of course not (with the silent but implied you idiot on the end).
Then I coach him on the next steps. Who to talk to at the next Scout meeting. Who to call. He still needs help sometimes with phone calls. So far we haven't made much progress, though. One merit badge counselor said he'd be at a meeting, but wasn't. Another hasn't responded yet to email. Now this boy is content to wait, forever if necessary, for them to respond to him. He feels that their turn now. Which technically it may be, but he's the one who wants the badge, so he's got to be the one in charge. He can't be passive.
He prefers to be passive. It is in his nature to be passive, to let events flow over him and carry him along. Not to make events happen.
I struggle mightily with this characteristic of his.
Throughout all this I'm thinking about it, a lot. Should I stop pushing him? Should I let him succeed or fail on his own, and stop getting involved? I don't want him to drop out of Scouts, and I'm afraid he'll do that if he stops working on rank advancement. But, what good is it if I'm always pushing him? I can't push him forever. One day he is going to have to get along without his mommy telling him what to do. But is he ready for that?
Sometimes I wonder if this is a homeschool thing. Schoolkids have their teachers telling them what they need to do, and when, and from what I gather, most (not all) parents pretty much stay out of it. (I don't mean they are not involved, but they aren't the ones pushing the kids to get things done. That's my impression from conversations with other mothers, not the result of scientific research on the topic.) So why shouldn't I stay out of Scouts? Why am I always pushing, reminding, nagging?
We are always pushing our kid to do things that, it seems, other kids don't do. For example, if he is going to miss a Scout meeting, we make him call the guys just above and below him in the leadership hierarchy. He used to hate making those calls, but now that he is a leader he sees the value in it. As a leader, he finds it's helpful to know if someone is going to be absent. Almost every week someone just doesn't show up. I don't understand why the parents don't have their kids make that call. Maybe they just stay out of the kids' Scout business.
Anyway, I spend time thinking about these things.
Last week, after I helped him email the badge counselor to get started on the "Pets" badge (a no-brainer for our family), I asked him what he wanted me to do. Keep pushing, or shut up?
He thought for a minute and said "Mom. Remember that year I hated making phone calls so much I almost missed a campout?" (Oh yes I do. He needed a piece of information from one of the adult leaders. He was so afraid of making that call he tried to convince me - and himself - that he really didn't want to go on this campout after all. Once I forced him to make the call, his desire to camp came back.) "Now, I don't mind calling people I know. But I still hate calling people I don't know. And you know I'm forgetful. So..." deep breath here; is he about to cry? "Yeah, can you help me a little longer?"
So we made a deal. One more rank advancement, and then he's on his own. Can he do it? We'll find out in about 6 months, I think.
But he's not what you call a self-starter. He's at the point now where he gets to pick the badges he wants to earn, and start working on them. No one is pushing him to do any particular work; it's up to him to earn the badges he needs to advance in rank. He reached this point early last fall, but he hasn't started working on any badges yet. This isn't because there aren't any badges he's interested in; there are many. He settled on two a few months ago. Now he just can't get started.
So every week or so I ask him what he's doing. The answer, of course, is nothing, which causes me to get frustrated and start to wonder what is wrong with this kid? I ask him if he's not interested in advancing in Scouts; no, it's not that. I ask if he's done with Scouts (while praying he is not) and he looks at me as if I have two heads and no, of course not (with the silent but implied you idiot on the end).
Then I coach him on the next steps. Who to talk to at the next Scout meeting. Who to call. He still needs help sometimes with phone calls. So far we haven't made much progress, though. One merit badge counselor said he'd be at a meeting, but wasn't. Another hasn't responded yet to email. Now this boy is content to wait, forever if necessary, for them to respond to him. He feels that their turn now. Which technically it may be, but he's the one who wants the badge, so he's got to be the one in charge. He can't be passive.
He prefers to be passive. It is in his nature to be passive, to let events flow over him and carry him along. Not to make events happen.
I struggle mightily with this characteristic of his.
Throughout all this I'm thinking about it, a lot. Should I stop pushing him? Should I let him succeed or fail on his own, and stop getting involved? I don't want him to drop out of Scouts, and I'm afraid he'll do that if he stops working on rank advancement. But, what good is it if I'm always pushing him? I can't push him forever. One day he is going to have to get along without his mommy telling him what to do. But is he ready for that?
Sometimes I wonder if this is a homeschool thing. Schoolkids have their teachers telling them what they need to do, and when, and from what I gather, most (not all) parents pretty much stay out of it. (I don't mean they are not involved, but they aren't the ones pushing the kids to get things done. That's my impression from conversations with other mothers, not the result of scientific research on the topic.) So why shouldn't I stay out of Scouts? Why am I always pushing, reminding, nagging?
We are always pushing our kid to do things that, it seems, other kids don't do. For example, if he is going to miss a Scout meeting, we make him call the guys just above and below him in the leadership hierarchy. He used to hate making those calls, but now that he is a leader he sees the value in it. As a leader, he finds it's helpful to know if someone is going to be absent. Almost every week someone just doesn't show up. I don't understand why the parents don't have their kids make that call. Maybe they just stay out of the kids' Scout business.
Anyway, I spend time thinking about these things.
Last week, after I helped him email the badge counselor to get started on the "Pets" badge (a no-brainer for our family), I asked him what he wanted me to do. Keep pushing, or shut up?
He thought for a minute and said "Mom. Remember that year I hated making phone calls so much I almost missed a campout?" (Oh yes I do. He needed a piece of information from one of the adult leaders. He was so afraid of making that call he tried to convince me - and himself - that he really didn't want to go on this campout after all. Once I forced him to make the call, his desire to camp came back.) "Now, I don't mind calling people I know. But I still hate calling people I don't know. And you know I'm forgetful. So..." deep breath here; is he about to cry? "Yeah, can you help me a little longer?"
So we made a deal. One more rank advancement, and then he's on his own. Can he do it? We'll find out in about 6 months, I think.
Sunday, October 31, 2010
Another sign my kids are growing up
Our latest read-aloud is The Code of the Woosters
by P. G. Wodehouse. No more kid books for them!
by P. G. Wodehouse. No more kid books for them!
Friday, October 22, 2010
Just one of those little God moments
It's another camping weekend for the Boy Scout. I love and hate these weekends. As he gains more responsibility in Scouts, he has more to remember and more stuff to take. He used to take money for food; now he's the one bringing the food. This weekend he needed his bike and helmet. He needs his housekey and some cash, just in case.
So I'm trying to train him to make a list that he can print and use and update as needed. But he won't do that. He will never do that. And I should stop worrying that he'll forget something and let him forget it, even if it means all the boys go without breakfast because he doesn't have the eggs. (He'll never forget the chocolate and cheetos so we're OK there. And there are worse things than chocolate and cheetos for breakfast.) I don't really do all that much for him. Sometimes I toss out little reminders. Sometimes because he's running late I'll pack the cooler, but not usually. I do worry about those eggs breaking. Yeah, worrying is what I'm best at.
The other thing I'm trying to get him to understand - unsuccessfully, so far - is that while there are a lot of tasks that can wait till the last minute, if he leaves too many he will be rushed just when he doesn't want to be. But he comes by that trait genetically so I don't guess there's much I can do about it.
Yesterday I asked him to be sure he had all the clothing he needed so we didn't have a laundry emergency. He assured me he did. Yet, 30 minutes before he was to leave, I found him rooting through a pile of laundry that hadn't been sorted yet. What was he looking for? Socks. Not the everyday white socks he wears all the time. The warm hiking socks. There weren't any there; I hadn't seen any for a while. We checked the dirty laundry and they weren't there either. He was getting a little frantic; he doesn't like having cold feet. Then I thought of checking one last place.
Some people will understand the misplaced clothes pile. I don't think I'm the only one who has one of those. It's just clothing that gets into the wrong room - my room - when laundry is being sorted. My pile is kind of big. I was going to get to it tonight, honest! But I figured the socks must have been there.
But when I got to my room to check the pile, I saw the socks - two pairs! - laying neatly on my bed. As if they had been placed there on purpose. But not by me, because I hadn't known they were there. No one else admitted to putting the socks so nicely in that spot. They should have been in the pile. So I handed them to the boy and he went on to pack the next last-minute item.
My life is very easy. I don't have a lot of problems; I have a house where mostly everything works; I don't stay up nights wondering how we're going to pay the light bill; my family is healthy; we have good friends and a good church. But sometimes, when something goes wrong, or even when something just seems uncertain, I wonder what God is doing. I don't mean things like socks going missing; bigger things than that. But we know we are to trust that everything will come right in the end, and to hang tight, even though sometimes - even with an easy life - it's a little hard to do that.
And then God sets your missing socks right in front of your eyes. It's like a little wink or a squeeze of the hand; a little reminder that yes, I'm still here and watching over things, and it will indeed all come right in the end.
So I'm trying to train him to make a list that he can print and use and update as needed. But he won't do that. He will never do that. And I should stop worrying that he'll forget something and let him forget it, even if it means all the boys go without breakfast because he doesn't have the eggs. (He'll never forget the chocolate and cheetos so we're OK there. And there are worse things than chocolate and cheetos for breakfast.) I don't really do all that much for him. Sometimes I toss out little reminders. Sometimes because he's running late I'll pack the cooler, but not usually. I do worry about those eggs breaking. Yeah, worrying is what I'm best at.
The other thing I'm trying to get him to understand - unsuccessfully, so far - is that while there are a lot of tasks that can wait till the last minute, if he leaves too many he will be rushed just when he doesn't want to be. But he comes by that trait genetically so I don't guess there's much I can do about it.
Yesterday I asked him to be sure he had all the clothing he needed so we didn't have a laundry emergency. He assured me he did. Yet, 30 minutes before he was to leave, I found him rooting through a pile of laundry that hadn't been sorted yet. What was he looking for? Socks. Not the everyday white socks he wears all the time. The warm hiking socks. There weren't any there; I hadn't seen any for a while. We checked the dirty laundry and they weren't there either. He was getting a little frantic; he doesn't like having cold feet. Then I thought of checking one last place.
Some people will understand the misplaced clothes pile. I don't think I'm the only one who has one of those. It's just clothing that gets into the wrong room - my room - when laundry is being sorted. My pile is kind of big. I was going to get to it tonight, honest! But I figured the socks must have been there.
But when I got to my room to check the pile, I saw the socks - two pairs! - laying neatly on my bed. As if they had been placed there on purpose. But not by me, because I hadn't known they were there. No one else admitted to putting the socks so nicely in that spot. They should have been in the pile. So I handed them to the boy and he went on to pack the next last-minute item.
My life is very easy. I don't have a lot of problems; I have a house where mostly everything works; I don't stay up nights wondering how we're going to pay the light bill; my family is healthy; we have good friends and a good church. But sometimes, when something goes wrong, or even when something just seems uncertain, I wonder what God is doing. I don't mean things like socks going missing; bigger things than that. But we know we are to trust that everything will come right in the end, and to hang tight, even though sometimes - even with an easy life - it's a little hard to do that.
And then God sets your missing socks right in front of your eyes. It's like a little wink or a squeeze of the hand; a little reminder that yes, I'm still here and watching over things, and it will indeed all come right in the end.
Tuesday, October 05, 2010
Butterfly memories
I was looking through some old photos and found a treasure.
Butterfly release day!
How many of you homeschool moms recognize the butterfly house?
We bought it, a bunch of caterpillars, and some sort of food from a website. Or maybe a local store. This happened six years ago!
We watched the entire processes, then took the butterflies to a park to set them free. We decided the park had more nice flowers for them than our backyard. Or maybe we were worried the kids would see a dead butterfly and cry over their pet.
It was such fun. They still talk about it and we still have the house. Maybe we should get some more caterpillars and do it again!
Bonus froggie for your viewing pleasure.
This post is linked to Outdoor Wednesday at A Southern Daydreamer.
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