I have this "vision" of myself. I guess it's more of a goal? I don't know. I have always wanted to be the earth mother type, the Zen Mama, if you will. Laid back, one with the earth, never raises her voice, heaping love and praise, an organized clean and "fresh" home, never rattled by anything. When I wake up in the morning, this is what I strive for. I do yoga, meditate, read books on spirituality, I am now even working toward eating a vegan, mostly raw diet. This is who I want to be, a picture painted solely by me.
It doesn't happen most days. Okay, any day. The house is trashed, I lose my temper and yell, and then I crave Doritos and a Dr. Pepper. Sigh.
Today, TODAY was close. We had a great morning of schoolwork, not too much TV, ate great, had fun with my kids. UNTIL.
Baby Girl never wants to keep a diaper on. She's had a diaper rash for a week now, so I have been letting her roam free. Only in the last day or so have I been asking her to please keep the diaper on (it's starting to make Brother feel uncomfortable). Today, she has refused to keep it on. Okay, no big deal. Then, she pees and poos all over her (carpeted) room. A mushy poo, like chocolate mashed potatoes. Awesome. Blood pressure rises a little, but I clean it up, put her in the bath, we are all good. Then, someone (ahem, Brother) has a bowel movement that inspires him. He decides to create a beautiful sponge painting-using his VERY used toilet paper-all over the toilet lid. If Picasso was a feces fan, he'd be so very proud. I clean that up, and the day goes on. I decide to take about 20 minutes to have a snack and some water and watch TV. Everyone is playing upstairs, and Baby Girl and I have had a few discussions about keeping on our diaper, so I figure I'm ok. It's time to go see Daddy play his basketball game. I get up to get myself ready, and here comes Baby Girl. "I have poooooop!" With no diaper on. "Mom, I have poop." There is no diaper. Where is the poop? Blood Pressure rises. "Baby Girl," I say low and slow, "go sit on the potty, I am going to go find the poop." I go upstairs to see that her brother's room has been "mash-potatoed". Yay. Clean it up. We can still make it. Here she comes up the stairs. "I want to go up here and go potty." Fine. Put her on the potty. Her legs and everything else. Okay. She finishes, I clean her off, we head downstairs. On the stairs, we pass little spots of goodness on each step. Then, in the hallway. We get to the living room. Here is when the Zen flies out the window. Poo in the living room, streaked up the carpet, and while I was cleaning up in her brother's room and she was supposedly on the toilet, there was-um-"playing". All I know for sure is now I have a very poopy plastic funnel. There may have been some yelling. Big sisters come down and report "mashed potato" sightings in 2 more rooms. More yelling. Head hurting, hands shaking.
Here we are, an hour later. Yes, an hour. It took me 45 MINUTES to clean up everything. There may have been some crying when Baby Girl came to "check on me", completely naked.
Will I ever achieve the goal of Zen Mama? I know nothing is perfect, nothing permanent, everything is always in a constant state of change, but my kids are getting older. They are going to remember this stuff!! I want them to look back at their childhood as a peaceful one. I want them to remember the sound of my voice laughing, singing, and saying, "I love you." than remember my voice yelling (this is the memory I have of people in my life...I can't remember what their regular voice sounds like, only the sound of his yell. It's haunting and sad.) Every day, I feel like I take one step forward and two steps back.
I guess I am still in that search. Searching to find a way to not take myself, life, poop so seriously. Just accept what is, and let it go. Let life come in and out like the tide. Be gentle on myself and my family. Breathe deeply and spend more time on the mat and meditating. Know that I am going to make mistakes, learn from them, and move on. Focus a little more. Find something that helps me relax that doesn't include MSG. Keep learning, keep moving, keep breathing.
And buy some duct tape for those damn diapers....
Monday, October 3, 2011
Sunday, September 11, 2011
Today, I Am Grateful...
September 11, 2001 affected everyone, no matter who you are or where you lived. My husband and I got married 4 days later just outside of DC. Vince worked in the city then, and had a tough time getting out. It took him 6 hours to get home that day, but he lived. My wedding bouquet had to be changed a bit, our Best Man and a few other family members weren't able to fly in, but other than that, our life went on. We have gone on to have a wonderful life-ups and downs, tough times and successes. We already had one child when we got married, but since then, we have given birth to four more beautiful children. Our life is an awesome one, for sure.
Today, we decided we would sit our older 3 kids down and talk about what happened on 9/11/2001. We wanted them to know the history, to ask any questions, and try to point out any positives that we could. We discussed the Pentagon and the Twin Towers and showed them some of the video, and then we discussed Flight 93. We talked about how that plane was supposed to hit the US Capitol, but the passengers on board decided to fight the terrorists and the plane ended up crashing into an empty field. We talked about how the passengers aboard Flight 93 decided to give up their own lives to save other lives. Our seven year old asked, "Like my life?"
WOW. I'd never thought of it that way before. In the 10 years that have passed, all of the times we have talked about our memories of that day; about running into different fire departments from all the different states along I-95 on our way to our honeymoon, about how we spent one of our honeymoon nights glued to the tv watching a benefit concert and donating some of our wedding money, about all of the beautiful American Flags we saw displayed everywhere we went. Never, not once, did I make this connection.
Until this morning.
Vince's building was evacuated on the morning of September 11. He and his coworkers decided the best place to be was the Capitol Mall, assuming that monuments would be safe. If United Flight 93 would not have been taken back by the passengers; if those normal, ordinary, every day folks had not banded together, forgot about themselves and their safety, put on their red capes and TAKEN BACK THAT PLANE, my husband would probably be dead. The plane would have crashed into the Capitol, merely feet from where he stood. He'd be gone. There would have been no wedding, and these four beautiful children would not exist.
I had always thought about the lives they had saved that were already living. But, how many lives did they save that hadn't been born yet? How many wonderful little children, who will change the world in their own way, owe their existence to those heroes on that plane? I am overwhelmed with both gratitude and humbleness today after this realization. I know there is no way to say thank you to those special people. But, I can always try to remember to be thankful for the gifts that have been given to us and try to never take them for granted. I can try to pass this love of your fellow man, this sense of bravery on to my children. We can remember, and love, and be so, so grateful.
I will work hard to keep these feelings and this sense of responsibility in heart and mind always.
I looked into my 7 year old's bright, brown eyes and told her, "Yes, honey, like your life."
Today, we decided we would sit our older 3 kids down and talk about what happened on 9/11/2001. We wanted them to know the history, to ask any questions, and try to point out any positives that we could. We discussed the Pentagon and the Twin Towers and showed them some of the video, and then we discussed Flight 93. We talked about how that plane was supposed to hit the US Capitol, but the passengers on board decided to fight the terrorists and the plane ended up crashing into an empty field. We talked about how the passengers aboard Flight 93 decided to give up their own lives to save other lives. Our seven year old asked, "Like my life?"
WOW. I'd never thought of it that way before. In the 10 years that have passed, all of the times we have talked about our memories of that day; about running into different fire departments from all the different states along I-95 on our way to our honeymoon, about how we spent one of our honeymoon nights glued to the tv watching a benefit concert and donating some of our wedding money, about all of the beautiful American Flags we saw displayed everywhere we went. Never, not once, did I make this connection.
Until this morning.
Vince's building was evacuated on the morning of September 11. He and his coworkers decided the best place to be was the Capitol Mall, assuming that monuments would be safe. If United Flight 93 would not have been taken back by the passengers; if those normal, ordinary, every day folks had not banded together, forgot about themselves and their safety, put on their red capes and TAKEN BACK THAT PLANE, my husband would probably be dead. The plane would have crashed into the Capitol, merely feet from where he stood. He'd be gone. There would have been no wedding, and these four beautiful children would not exist.
I had always thought about the lives they had saved that were already living. But, how many lives did they save that hadn't been born yet? How many wonderful little children, who will change the world in their own way, owe their existence to those heroes on that plane? I am overwhelmed with both gratitude and humbleness today after this realization. I know there is no way to say thank you to those special people. But, I can always try to remember to be thankful for the gifts that have been given to us and try to never take them for granted. I can try to pass this love of your fellow man, this sense of bravery on to my children. We can remember, and love, and be so, so grateful.
I will work hard to keep these feelings and this sense of responsibility in heart and mind always.
I looked into my 7 year old's bright, brown eyes and told her, "Yes, honey, like your life."
Friday, September 9, 2011
Special Time With My Little Man
Occasionally, I get the opportunity to take just one kiddo out with me to run an errand. Tonight, I got to take my 4 year old son with me to gas up the van and go to the grocery store.
What I love most about these times is that I get to hear what they are thinking, right at that moment. During the car ride, we got to have a great discussion about the Army. His favorite movie right now is The Iron Giant (which I HIGHLY recommend, by the way!!). There are some scenes that have soldiers in them. He was asking me about the Army today.
"Mom, are there Armies here?"
"Yeah, buddy. There are Armies in every country."
Gasp. "IN EVERY COUNTRY?!?!?! Wow!!"
After this, we were at the store. He chose to ride in the Rocket grocery cart, and we raced through space while grabbing our milk, cheese, etc and having a quick conversation about why we don't need any "space donuts" this trip. While we were checking out, he asked if he could "yell" into the cashier's microphone. On the way out, he attempted to grab it. Almost. Better luck next time, Buddy.
He helped me carry the butter to the car. He took great pride in this.
After taking a moment to stare at the fire truck we passed, we were back to the "Armies."
"What do Armies do? Do they point their guns and yell?"
"Well, Buddy, Armies protect us." (At this point, I try to give a brief explanation of the different branches and call them by name, and "military" as a group. This is, of course, for Devil Dog Daddy, who surely would NOT want to be grouped in with the "Armies"!!) "They only point their guns in wars."
"What's a war?"
Oh boy.
Pause.
"Moooom....."
"Well, a war is...a war is when people aren't getting along. It's a fight. When people aren't getting along and aren't using their words. It's a fight." Not bad for a pacifist, if I do say so myself!
"Oh. Okay. Do the Armies (sigh) have guns or swords?"
"Both, Buddy!" (Apparently, this is the coolest thing EVER.)
"So, they use their guns and swords and arrest us?"
"No, Buddy. Only when someone does something bad."
"On bad people?"
Okay. I did have to get a bit hippie on him here. "No, not bad people. People who choose to do bad THINGS."
"What about people who do good things?"
"Well, they tell us thank you when we do good things."
"Okay, Mom. Let's sing."
We sang some of his favorite punk rock songs and recited some lines from his favorite movie (that, of course, I messed up. Great job, Mom.) until we got home.
I make sure that I spend a few minutes of special time each day with each of my kiddos. But, these moments, where it's just me and one of my special babies, are amazing.
As frustrating as it can get sometimes, I love being a Mommy.
What I love most about these times is that I get to hear what they are thinking, right at that moment. During the car ride, we got to have a great discussion about the Army. His favorite movie right now is The Iron Giant (which I HIGHLY recommend, by the way!!). There are some scenes that have soldiers in them. He was asking me about the Army today.
"Mom, are there Armies here?"
"Yeah, buddy. There are Armies in every country."
Gasp. "IN EVERY COUNTRY?!?!?! Wow!!"
After this, we were at the store. He chose to ride in the Rocket grocery cart, and we raced through space while grabbing our milk, cheese, etc and having a quick conversation about why we don't need any "space donuts" this trip. While we were checking out, he asked if he could "yell" into the cashier's microphone. On the way out, he attempted to grab it. Almost. Better luck next time, Buddy.
He helped me carry the butter to the car. He took great pride in this.
After taking a moment to stare at the fire truck we passed, we were back to the "Armies."
"What do Armies do? Do they point their guns and yell?"
"Well, Buddy, Armies protect us." (At this point, I try to give a brief explanation of the different branches and call them by name, and "military" as a group. This is, of course, for Devil Dog Daddy, who surely would NOT want to be grouped in with the "Armies"!!) "They only point their guns in wars."
"What's a war?"
Oh boy.
Pause.
"Moooom....."
"Well, a war is...a war is when people aren't getting along. It's a fight. When people aren't getting along and aren't using their words. It's a fight." Not bad for a pacifist, if I do say so myself!
"Oh. Okay. Do the Armies (sigh) have guns or swords?"
"Both, Buddy!" (Apparently, this is the coolest thing EVER.)
"So, they use their guns and swords and arrest us?"
"No, Buddy. Only when someone does something bad."
"On bad people?"
Okay. I did have to get a bit hippie on him here. "No, not bad people. People who choose to do bad THINGS."
"What about people who do good things?"
"Well, they tell us thank you when we do good things."
"Okay, Mom. Let's sing."
We sang some of his favorite punk rock songs and recited some lines from his favorite movie (that, of course, I messed up. Great job, Mom.) until we got home.
I make sure that I spend a few minutes of special time each day with each of my kiddos. But, these moments, where it's just me and one of my special babies, are amazing.
As frustrating as it can get sometimes, I love being a Mommy.
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
A Do-Over Day
Do you ever feel like you need a do-over for a specific day? I'm still not sleeping well and I'd only been asleep for a few hours when my 2 year old woke up. Not ready. I let petty things influence my mood (I'm starting to think that Facebook might be evil!!) and we ended up starting school a bit late this morning. My 7 year old did brilliant work this morning. She really enjoyed the history lesson we did, and she whizzed through her math work. Awesome. My 8 year old screamed that she didn't want to do her work. It took me 5 hours to get her to finally finish. Now, it's 5pm. I was able to make a great lunch for everyone (myself included!! SHOCKING!!) and get a load of dishes in, but there's still laundry to be done, dinner to be made, and the entire downstairs is completely ransacked. Seriously, there are markers with no tops in the foyer, trucks in the kitchen, a half eaten Tofu Quesadilla in the living room, and someone's underwear in the dining room...among other things. Plus, I am in a terrible mood and totally W-O-R-N O-U-T.
My sweet, tired 2 year old? Asleep on the couch. I'm jealous.
I wish I could do this day over. Sitting here, I can see the pitfalls, where we went wrong, and I could go back and fix them.
I guess the best thing to do is to focus on what went RIGHT (my 7 year old's school success, clean dishes and counters, and I did manage to play with my 4 year old for a while. We raced trucks and his bulldozer ate my Pegasus and Army Men. It was awesome!!) and let it go. Breathe. Breathe some more. What's that banging sound? Breathe. "MOOOOOOMMMM!!" Breathe quicker. Sigh.
Do you ever wish you had a do over day?
My sweet, tired 2 year old? Asleep on the couch. I'm jealous.
I wish I could do this day over. Sitting here, I can see the pitfalls, where we went wrong, and I could go back and fix them.
I guess the best thing to do is to focus on what went RIGHT (my 7 year old's school success, clean dishes and counters, and I did manage to play with my 4 year old for a while. We raced trucks and his bulldozer ate my Pegasus and Army Men. It was awesome!!) and let it go. Breathe. Breathe some more. What's that banging sound? Breathe. "MOOOOOOMMMM!!" Breathe quicker. Sigh.
Do you ever wish you had a do over day?
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
The Elephant in the Room-Having a Miscarriage
So, this is a subject that I am sure most people don't want to talk about or read about. But, the truth is, it needs to be something that we CAN share about; not only for our own healing, but to help other women and families to cope.
I have had two miscarriages. One was about 7 years ago. I was about 8 weeks along and it was extremely tragic. It traumatized me to the point where we sold our house and moved 3 months later. The pain was horrible, but the mental and emotional trauma was even worse. I felt like there was something wrong with me or my body, or that I did something to kill my baby.
Of course, that is not true. Miscarriages are extremely common. I believe the statistics are about 1 in 4 pregnancies end in miscarriage. So many of us have been through this. Knowing this doesn't make it any easier to go through, however. It's still a long, dark road of guilt, anger, sadness, confusion, and mourning, to name just a few emotions. You feel so alone. It's a wound that even AFTER the miscarriage is over (which can take a while!!), will never heal. It's been 7 years, and I have had 2 beautiful children since my first miscarriage, but there is still a place in my heart for my baby. Every once in a while, it feels like someone is missing. Then, I realize it's my sweet baby who I only got to have in my life for 7 short weeks. This will never go away. But, you move on and it does get easier.
Until you have another one.
Saturday, August 28, 2011. I was late and took a pregnancy test. It was positive. We were so excited. We tried to keep it to ourselves, but we just couldn't!! We were thrilled!! We shared it with family and a few close friends. We couldn't wait to add another child to our amazing family!!
Wednesday, August 31, 2011. I have a doctor's appointment. An ultrasound confirms that I have miscarried.
Even though I have 5 beautiful children, even though I have been through this before, even though this sort of miscarriage is very common, IT STILL HURTS. All the same feelings come flooding back. Why couldn't I carry this baby? What's wrong with me? Am I a bad mother? Why? Why? WHY?!?!!? I couldn't sleep, I couldn't eat. It was a roller coaster. I had to take medicine that made me have vivid nightmares. It was hell.
It's a week later, and it's still not over yet. I have to go in this week to have another ultrasound to confirm that it's done. I am starting to move on, I HAVE TO. I have 5 beautiful, IMPORTANT children, who need me. I have a husband who needs me. I have 2 dogs and a cat that need me. I have family and friends that deserve my attention. I have a life to live. But, in the back of my mind and in a small corner of my heart, my sweet baby whom I hardly knew is there, and I will never forget.
What do you say to a friend or loved one who is going through this?? I can tell you that I have received such perfect sentiments this week. Friends who just came over to the house, brought lunch and hung out, talking about anything, just being there. Emails from friends offering love and support. "We love you. We are here for you. I'm so sorry. I am thinking of you today. It's okay to feel what you are feeling." Messages and phone calls from sisters. " Feel what you want to feel. Call if you want to talk. Just calling to check on you." Text messages from my brother. "You are in my thoughts today." All of these made me feel so loved, so important, so RELEVANT and VALUED. That's what I needed.
What NOT to say? How about, "Well, you can always try again!" Really? How do you know that? Are you a Doctor? A Psychic? What if your parents had said that about YOU??
"You weren't THAT far along." Pregnant is pregnant. Period. (okay, that was odd.) This kind of comment just makes someone feel so unimportant and downplays their feelings. I guarantee you if someone said this to me, the next sentence out of my mouth would be, "I didn't hit you THAT hard!"
Nothing. Seriously? If someone close to you tells you they have had a miscarriage, one of the worst things you can do is say nothing. It just makes that person feel like you don't care. If you can't muster up anything wise, how about "I'm sorry." Then, at least, they'll know you care.
Miscarriages are common. They happen. But, they HURT. We need to offer our love, support, and lots of comfort (and comfort FOOD) to our family and friends in this time of need. For those of us going through the miscarriage, we need to SPEAK. Talk to someone. Write. Walk. Listen to music. Anything. You will never, ever forget your baby, but you have to be able to get out of bed and move on.
Let's not forget Dad. This is hard for him, too. Make sure you and your partner are talking. Check in with one another. Take care of each other. (Obviously, substitute Dad for Partner, if need be.)
I'm not a therapist or a doctor or nurse. These are just my thoughts on this. I hope they help someone.
A beautiful friend of mine recommended this website. It's a wonderful resource.
http://www.nationalshare.org
I have had two miscarriages. One was about 7 years ago. I was about 8 weeks along and it was extremely tragic. It traumatized me to the point where we sold our house and moved 3 months later. The pain was horrible, but the mental and emotional trauma was even worse. I felt like there was something wrong with me or my body, or that I did something to kill my baby.
Of course, that is not true. Miscarriages are extremely common. I believe the statistics are about 1 in 4 pregnancies end in miscarriage. So many of us have been through this. Knowing this doesn't make it any easier to go through, however. It's still a long, dark road of guilt, anger, sadness, confusion, and mourning, to name just a few emotions. You feel so alone. It's a wound that even AFTER the miscarriage is over (which can take a while!!), will never heal. It's been 7 years, and I have had 2 beautiful children since my first miscarriage, but there is still a place in my heart for my baby. Every once in a while, it feels like someone is missing. Then, I realize it's my sweet baby who I only got to have in my life for 7 short weeks. This will never go away. But, you move on and it does get easier.
Until you have another one.
Saturday, August 28, 2011. I was late and took a pregnancy test. It was positive. We were so excited. We tried to keep it to ourselves, but we just couldn't!! We were thrilled!! We shared it with family and a few close friends. We couldn't wait to add another child to our amazing family!!
Wednesday, August 31, 2011. I have a doctor's appointment. An ultrasound confirms that I have miscarried.
Even though I have 5 beautiful children, even though I have been through this before, even though this sort of miscarriage is very common, IT STILL HURTS. All the same feelings come flooding back. Why couldn't I carry this baby? What's wrong with me? Am I a bad mother? Why? Why? WHY?!?!!? I couldn't sleep, I couldn't eat. It was a roller coaster. I had to take medicine that made me have vivid nightmares. It was hell.
It's a week later, and it's still not over yet. I have to go in this week to have another ultrasound to confirm that it's done. I am starting to move on, I HAVE TO. I have 5 beautiful, IMPORTANT children, who need me. I have a husband who needs me. I have 2 dogs and a cat that need me. I have family and friends that deserve my attention. I have a life to live. But, in the back of my mind and in a small corner of my heart, my sweet baby whom I hardly knew is there, and I will never forget.
What do you say to a friend or loved one who is going through this?? I can tell you that I have received such perfect sentiments this week. Friends who just came over to the house, brought lunch and hung out, talking about anything, just being there. Emails from friends offering love and support. "We love you. We are here for you. I'm so sorry. I am thinking of you today. It's okay to feel what you are feeling." Messages and phone calls from sisters. " Feel what you want to feel. Call if you want to talk. Just calling to check on you." Text messages from my brother. "You are in my thoughts today." All of these made me feel so loved, so important, so RELEVANT and VALUED. That's what I needed.
What NOT to say? How about, "Well, you can always try again!" Really? How do you know that? Are you a Doctor? A Psychic? What if your parents had said that about YOU??
"You weren't THAT far along." Pregnant is pregnant. Period. (okay, that was odd.) This kind of comment just makes someone feel so unimportant and downplays their feelings. I guarantee you if someone said this to me, the next sentence out of my mouth would be, "I didn't hit you THAT hard!"
Nothing. Seriously? If someone close to you tells you they have had a miscarriage, one of the worst things you can do is say nothing. It just makes that person feel like you don't care. If you can't muster up anything wise, how about "I'm sorry." Then, at least, they'll know you care.
Miscarriages are common. They happen. But, they HURT. We need to offer our love, support, and lots of comfort (and comfort FOOD) to our family and friends in this time of need. For those of us going through the miscarriage, we need to SPEAK. Talk to someone. Write. Walk. Listen to music. Anything. You will never, ever forget your baby, but you have to be able to get out of bed and move on.
Let's not forget Dad. This is hard for him, too. Make sure you and your partner are talking. Check in with one another. Take care of each other. (Obviously, substitute Dad for Partner, if need be.)
I'm not a therapist or a doctor or nurse. These are just my thoughts on this. I hope they help someone.
A beautiful friend of mine recommended this website. It's a wonderful resource.
http://www.nationalshare.org
My choice to homeschool
So, I am homeschooling my kids.
Pause.
Oh, okay.
(Here's where you wait for me to pull out my soapbox and begin to enthusiastically state my opinion on failing schools and quote you research studies. You're going to keep waiting.)
For those bold enough to ask me why, here's my answer.
After working for a bit, I decided that I would much rather be a stay at home mom. It made sense for our sanity, and quite frankly, for our bank account. So, I have been (back) at home for a few months now. Since I have been home, I have noticed a few things. First, I have noticed that I have no idea who my older children are. Not a clue. That's sad. From my experiences, there is nothing more lonely than being surrounded by people who don't know you. Even worse, being surrounded by people who don't know you and insist on changing you....even withholding their love until you cave. I want to know my kids, I want them to feel like they can question, that they can feel things differently, see things in a new way. I want them to explore these views in a safe environment, completely certain they will be loved no matter what they find inside, and feeling completely free from torment and ridicule. Everyone deserves that.
Secondly, I found that instead of telling me about the books they read or the math they learned, I got to hear about all of the fights and foul language that they witnessed at school. I got to hear about how their teachers gave them incorrect information or indirectly threatened them with stories of corporal punishment back in the day to get them to do their schoolwork. My kids were retaining nothing except for four letter words. Hmph.
What finally tipped the scales, what pulled it all together for me and made me realize this is what I need to do was this video. (If you are interested, I have included the link below.) It inspired me. It turned on the light bulb for me. I have to take control, for my kids' sake, for the country's sake, for everyone's sake! I need to rock the boat.
So far, I have found that my kids have hardly retained any basics. We have begun grammar, reading, writing, and spelling at a first grade level, and are working our way up again. We are writing slowly and neatly, relearning our grammar rules, and reading together. One of my daughters needs serious help in math, so we are taking the time to focus to be sure we have our rules down. They are learning, and they are excited...most of the time....
Socially, I am finding that the playgrounds during our homeschool group playtimes are filled with imaginative stories, games, and projects. Instead of my 7 year old being introduced to the word "sex", she was standing lookout on a slide-a job she proudly volunteered for-for the rest of the workers so they could use the pile of old broken branches to build a bridge. My 8 year old was exploring a huge puddle with her friends. They were all working together, children of all ages, using teamwork, math skills, science, etc. They all had no problem introducing themselves to new people, and there was no sort of clique to cut through. It was beautiful.
This. This is why I homeschool. It's not easy every day, and, man, do I need to get organized!!! But, it's a gift I want to give my kids and the world. And, I am excited to give this gift every day.
http://www.ted.com/talks/lang/eng/ken_robinson_changing_education_paradigms.html
Pause.
Oh, okay.
(Here's where you wait for me to pull out my soapbox and begin to enthusiastically state my opinion on failing schools and quote you research studies. You're going to keep waiting.)
For those bold enough to ask me why, here's my answer.
After working for a bit, I decided that I would much rather be a stay at home mom. It made sense for our sanity, and quite frankly, for our bank account. So, I have been (back) at home for a few months now. Since I have been home, I have noticed a few things. First, I have noticed that I have no idea who my older children are. Not a clue. That's sad. From my experiences, there is nothing more lonely than being surrounded by people who don't know you. Even worse, being surrounded by people who don't know you and insist on changing you....even withholding their love until you cave. I want to know my kids, I want them to feel like they can question, that they can feel things differently, see things in a new way. I want them to explore these views in a safe environment, completely certain they will be loved no matter what they find inside, and feeling completely free from torment and ridicule. Everyone deserves that.
Secondly, I found that instead of telling me about the books they read or the math they learned, I got to hear about all of the fights and foul language that they witnessed at school. I got to hear about how their teachers gave them incorrect information or indirectly threatened them with stories of corporal punishment back in the day to get them to do their schoolwork. My kids were retaining nothing except for four letter words. Hmph.
What finally tipped the scales, what pulled it all together for me and made me realize this is what I need to do was this video. (If you are interested, I have included the link below.) It inspired me. It turned on the light bulb for me. I have to take control, for my kids' sake, for the country's sake, for everyone's sake! I need to rock the boat.
So far, I have found that my kids have hardly retained any basics. We have begun grammar, reading, writing, and spelling at a first grade level, and are working our way up again. We are writing slowly and neatly, relearning our grammar rules, and reading together. One of my daughters needs serious help in math, so we are taking the time to focus to be sure we have our rules down. They are learning, and they are excited...most of the time....
Socially, I am finding that the playgrounds during our homeschool group playtimes are filled with imaginative stories, games, and projects. Instead of my 7 year old being introduced to the word "sex", she was standing lookout on a slide-a job she proudly volunteered for-for the rest of the workers so they could use the pile of old broken branches to build a bridge. My 8 year old was exploring a huge puddle with her friends. They were all working together, children of all ages, using teamwork, math skills, science, etc. They all had no problem introducing themselves to new people, and there was no sort of clique to cut through. It was beautiful.
This. This is why I homeschool. It's not easy every day, and, man, do I need to get organized!!! But, it's a gift I want to give my kids and the world. And, I am excited to give this gift every day.
http://www.ted.com/talks/lang/eng/ken_robinson_changing_education_paradigms.html
Friday, July 15, 2011
I Dreamed a Dream
It was never our plan to have 5 kids. We have just really enjoyed going with the flow, and were always so overjoyed each time we found out we were having another baby. Now, here we are, with 5 kids. I wouldn't trade this for the world. It's a far cry from where I originally wanted to be...single, no kids, living in NYC and working on SNL. But, I can not imagine my life without each of these sweet people, and being a mom is definitely what I belong doing.
I just am starting to think I'm not doing a good job. Well, that's not entirely accurate. I am not doing the job the way I really DESIRE to do it. Basically, I am so wrapped up in just getting through the day, that I am not living the way I feel. My values, the things that are so important to me, are not coming through in my day to day parenting. My house is so important to me, yet it is constantly a mess. We have financial goals, yet I can't make the time to set a budget and get everything paid, and we are behind. It's not because we don't have the means or the desire to do these things, at the end of the day, these things just DON'T GET DONE.
I am less than a week from my birthday, which is the time I feel most dedicated to self improvement (versus the old New Year's Eve resolutions). So, here we go. Can I really get this balance, this living my values, these goals that I really, really want? We will see.
I wanted to write more, but my son is pouring water on the carpet and complaining that no one will rock with him.
I just am starting to think I'm not doing a good job. Well, that's not entirely accurate. I am not doing the job the way I really DESIRE to do it. Basically, I am so wrapped up in just getting through the day, that I am not living the way I feel. My values, the things that are so important to me, are not coming through in my day to day parenting. My house is so important to me, yet it is constantly a mess. We have financial goals, yet I can't make the time to set a budget and get everything paid, and we are behind. It's not because we don't have the means or the desire to do these things, at the end of the day, these things just DON'T GET DONE.
I am less than a week from my birthday, which is the time I feel most dedicated to self improvement (versus the old New Year's Eve resolutions). So, here we go. Can I really get this balance, this living my values, these goals that I really, really want? We will see.
I wanted to write more, but my son is pouring water on the carpet and complaining that no one will rock with him.
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