A Whale of a Tale--Part 2

So the freaky homeschoolers are going out in public.

As a part of the co-op we participate in each family has to commit to at least 2 or 3 service projects during the year. The contract says that if you don't fulfill your obligation, they'll kick you out (or send all of the kids to tp your house as an art project).

I'm actually really looking forward to the project that I'll be a part of this month. We are going out to a local inner city charter-type school and telling Bible stories/making crafts/sharing snacks.

I ended up as a mini-group leader. This really excites me for a couple of reasons.

1. It feeds my need to feel important.
2. I like being in charge. It saves me the energy of finding creative was to nicely tell people that their ideas suck.
3. These inner-city/poverty-ish kids will be like returning to my peeps. Except that they'll be in the second grade.

So anyway, as a quasi group leader I have to decide what Bible story to tell. I'm going with Jonah and the fish (it's really not a whale); pretty much the ultimate Valentine's story---love, running scared, fish guts, redemption, and a continued pissy attitude.

I thought of snacks that might correlate. And then I made a mistake. I went looking for crafts. One of the first "whale crafts" I stumbled upon was this:



Now to some of you that is just a white sock turned into a whale. Even has a cute little spout. Awwww...... To me, who still sees things through eyes that ask the question What-kind-of-inappropriateness-can-this-be-turned-into? I see Moby Dick, the not-whale version. Although 2nd graders should not make this correlation, can't help but wonder if they will. If they do, it will be all down hill.

I will heavily suggest that we should do something with hearts, not whales.

Of course a bad heart valentine can look like well, this:




Perhaps the others will tell me not to leave my house next time.

You Know You're Cheap When...

you tell the kid in this pic to carefully take the paper off and save it to bring home.






(I told him in a "joking" way, but please know there was a part of me that was dying to stick it in our bathroom!)

Success!!!

We are a long way from where we started on this homeschool adventure in July. Yes, July. Because I truly want my children to have NO fun ever!!!! Just ask them, they'll tell you that is the truth.

I have doubted myself many, many days. Not the "lay in bed and doubt" that I hear a lot of homeschool moms in my circle talk about. I have the advantage of having done the public ed teacher worry for a decade. I know that really good "real" teachers worry about the demands of a "real" classroom. I know that the system is not perfect and so I learned to cut myself a little slack early on. I also have more important things to do in my bed like watch tv, sleep, and McGuyver.

I have wondered sometimes if I am going to be able to do this. Am I going to be able to teach them enough and do a good job at all of it? The answer is probably NO; but then I remember that even in a "real" school there is no guarantee that they will have even a certified teacher who is worth a damn, so I feel better almost instantly.

But this week I have seen success. Tangible evidence that this thing is moving forward.

Pinky is able to dress her own Barbies most of the time, pump her legs on the swing, AND she is starting to read. It's not finding the cure for cancer, but that Barbie thing is pretty close!

BB's writing is improving and even more importantly he has found a giant measure of self-confidence. He was the classic well-behaved-kid-sent-to-the-back-of-the-class and has some deficits that I continue to address.

Red is well, Red. He is probably making the least gains of any of them, but he was pretty stinkin' far ahead to begin with. With him, the struggle is to get through his thick skull that doing less than your best doesn't cut it at home.

Some days I do want to pull my hair out, but going bald in my jammies and being able to pee whenever I want to sure beats wanting to pull my hair out over 150 kids who aren't mine and having to do the pee-pee dance until the end of 3rd block.

Craving

My world got rocked a little bit today. It was one of those things that you don't realize how much you want, until you realize that it is not yours. At least not for now.

Days like this I crave easy and sweet, but I find myself knee deep in the muck of life instead. And while the smart part of me realizes that a good life is a messy one; that big risks can mean both big rewards and big disappointments, the part of me that is about 6 years old wants to stomp her foot, stick out her lip and not give a crap about how to turn a couple of cups of flour, a pat of butter, and a chicken into dinner for the masses.

But here's what I know about cravings...cave early and you're not as satisfied. Wait and wait and wait and whatever it is, tastes better than you'd been imagining.

So. I wait. We wait. We model smart, not stupid and petulant for our kids. And I trust that one day, it is going to be more than I ever dreamed it would be.

The Problem With Weddings

According to BB, the problem with weddings is that

1. You have to wear a tuxedo,

2. The food is not that good,

and

3. All the band knows is "Muscrat Love"



(Yes, this kid is warped. Yes, I like it that way.)

My Life, The Application

So we are starting this different thing, or at least starting to try it. Teasing up our dreams like a girl with a can of Aqua Net and a comb circa 1989.

Our dreams may involve some other people. Think a commune combined with some sister wives. Or really nothing like that. But it is a jumping off point for your imagination.

So as we are trying to figure out who we can live with/share dreams with/bare our souls to we feed each other pertinent bits of information. And I walk away from these times thinking, we could so do life with these people and then I forget that I didn't tell them X, Y, or Z about myself and surely that bit of information will be what keeps them from parking our camels together.

So here is all of the really important stuff about me that would appear on an application, ya know, if the next phase of my life was a job interview.

1. I love lists. They help me think.
2. I have tatoos. I would get more. That may just make Jesus love me a little bit more.
3. I can go without makeup, but I'll shave my legs on my death bed.
4. I don't spank my kids. And I can't help but be a little bit judgy of you if that option is in in the top 5 of your parenting skills that you rely on daily.
5. I like to cuss. And I don't just mean a good "damn" every now and then. Some days just require more color.
6. Speaking of color, don't evah use the "n" word around me. It would be strange to say that I love black/pink/purple/plaid people, because I don't know all of those people. But when I love people, I don't look at their outsides, just their guts. And I spent the first decade of my life praying to be a Cosby kid.
7. Really long fingernails freak me out. Think of the bacteria!
8. Real men don't opt for a margarita first. They like beer, or liquor and not some namby pamby "12 year old scotch". I'm not interested in a sugar daddy, I want a cowboy. I'm also sightly in awe of a dude who chooses water or tea and never "needs" a cold one. I've heard dudes like this exist, but never really known one.
9. I like a glass of wine every now and then. If you don't, that's cool, but I guarantee you that Jesus doesn't love one of us more or less based on the consumption of rancid fruit.
10. I live with insecurity. But I'm figuring out that you do to, so let's all just chill.
11. I would not choose to live in a world without coffee.
12. I love dogs. But not birds. I want to like horses, but they scare me.
13. I like the wide open, not the woods.
14. I like a nice tub, not the ocean or a lake.
15. Don't lie to me. Evah. I can handle the truth.

A Spork in the Road

I'm in the middle of a life change. I'm keeping McGuyver, my dreamy husband. I'm keeping my kids, Red (aka Shadow), Brownie Bite (aka Dan), and Pinky (aka Shadow's Minion). I'm even keeping the damn trampoline eating dog. But that's about it.

And people are freaking out. People are clucking their tongues (yes, research is proven that you can be younger than 80 and cluck your tongue in dissaproval). People are whispering behind our backs. And people who share DNA with us are out right telling us that we're lunatics.

Turns out that people only talk about a fork in the road. What they really want is a spork. They want something that looks a little different than the spoon they've been suckling on their entire lives, but inreality they want life to keep working the same way. And they doubt anyone who is ready to do something different.

This really isn't a post about anger. And I know I'm sounding snarky. I don't mean to be. Maybe I'm a little freaked out too.

But despite how freaked out I am, I will not use the spork!

I will seek this totally different thing, because, as crazy as it is, I really believe it is what is next for us. I always jab myself with those stupid sporks anyway.