tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-82272907953039014492024-03-12T22:33:11.706-05:00Life Learning FamilyElizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01651067225047126728noreply@blogger.comBlogger226125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8227290795303901449.post-60872496307168322172013-03-27T09:39:00.001-05:002013-03-27T09:40:05.896-05:00RestartIt may be time for me to resurrect this blog. My father is gone, my mother is safely housed in a wonderful memory care facility, my older two are increasingly independent teenagers and I find myself lacking a creative outlet.<br />
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There is no way to catch up on what has transpired since my last post, so I'm not even going to attempt that. Life has just pushed on it's course, we've all grown and learned along the way. I am happy with the way it is turning out.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5kOBrrkE-PQTQTlzFzoI1doCbcR5a5EhWyFWgT-UPF61IRPmknzDR3uOhkduxihc-LeTFIiJgWxKy41A-tycmwvQkss7taCWHD_01SGAYiumd5D9Rbp6AZuRYcSIiPybi-t1bWG9Z_L8/s1600/SAM_1792.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5kOBrrkE-PQTQTlzFzoI1doCbcR5a5EhWyFWgT-UPF61IRPmknzDR3uOhkduxihc-LeTFIiJgWxKy41A-tycmwvQkss7taCWHD_01SGAYiumd5D9Rbp6AZuRYcSIiPybi-t1bWG9Z_L8/s320/SAM_1792.JPG" width="256" /></a></div>
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This is Elliott, now 9 years old. He is working on building a models of the carbon allotrope diamond. In the background, through the window are Nathan (14) and Julia (13) in tap class. Dance has become the main focus of our lives, they are constantly seeking new dance classes and opportunities. Elliott has been dragged to more dance classes than he would care to remember, but we try to do interesting things while the older kids are doing their thing. This tap class is really the only class we drive to and stay. The rest they can take the train and/or walk to.<br />
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Could they be dancing more? Yes, probably. Could they dance less? It's likely. Could they all be doing more academic work? Definitely. Are they doing what they want to do and making most of the decisions regarding the course and direction of their lives? Yes. And I wouldn't change that, even if I could. My children are not me. I am proud of them, but more importantly they are proud of themselves. They are mostly happy with where they are in life.<br />
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I am hoping to write more about us as a family in our homeschooling adventure. Maybe this will be useful to people other than may.<br />
<br />Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01651067225047126728noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8227290795303901449.post-40517592142566039232011-08-07T08:27:00.005-05:002011-08-07T09:15:11.483-05:00It's Come to This<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4_AAPKonM_QORsGtjK7cFpcwsAGOZFDrP6ASiaRFFlO3-PaZ_gQIMRYqD-wmpWiTbAn71p0Bq5u80CA1NGYuM9SrAv0j_ZdDSbx8tt9GZIbj7qjHIbAk9Wl3Lyxl3voXbTeAyG95cQcA/s1600/DSC_0617.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 213px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5638106209451882434" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4_AAPKonM_QORsGtjK7cFpcwsAGOZFDrP6ASiaRFFlO3-PaZ_gQIMRYqD-wmpWiTbAn71p0Bq5u80CA1NGYuM9SrAv0j_ZdDSbx8tt9GZIbj7qjHIbAk9Wl3Lyxl3voXbTeAyG95cQcA/s320/DSC_0617.JPG" /></a>There is nothing anyone can do to make my mother happy. <br /><br />This is the sad reality I have recently come to accept, painfully. For the past 9 months, my family has exhausted itself trying to make my mother happy. It must be part of her dementia, or how the dementia manifests itself. Before her mind started going, complaining was just not part of her personality. Now it has consumed her, she complains about everything we have done to assist her.<br /><br />Mom came for a visit in November last year. She wanted to try living in her house alone, after spending almost a year living with my sister in New Mexico after my father died. Mom made it one night in her house and then wanted to stay with my family. While she was not a burden living with us, it was stressful. She needs help with everything and is not capable of entertaining herself. We are a very busy homeschooling family, so she came with us to all of our activities. This squished the kids in the back seat of the car, leading to stressful drives. Mom also took over Medium's room, which she agreed to up front but came to resent later. The kids had to be quiet in the evening when Grandma went to bed and put up with a lot of her quirks. <br /><br />When she decided to move back to the area permanently, we researched Continuing Care Retirement Communities, settled on one nearly half an hour away and moved her in. Mom was placed on the Assisted Living floor. The daily list of activities was encouraging, the community is full of vibrant seniors, many of whom use walkers or wheelchairs and are engaged in their surroundings. It is also in a beautiful place with many walking paths nearby, including one right outside the facility. It seemed the perfect place.<br /><br />When Mom moved in, the community was experiencing an outbreak of a stomach bug. We hadn't counted on contagious diseases being a part of her new life. It was a prolonged outbreak because it passed quickly and spread even quicker, so people had it multiple times. The facility responded appropriately, shutting down the 5th floor (the Assisted Living floor) when it became a problem keeping residents in their apartments for the required 48 hours after the last symptom. I spent 6 weeks taking my mother somewhere every day to keep her from going stir crazy. There were no activities during the outbreak, to reduce the spread of the virus. Then Mom got it. Mark picked her up that day to take her shopping or for a walk, and she had forgotten she still had diarrhea. This is how the virus spread. My entire family got it.<br /><br />When the virus passed, activities started and we were hopeful that Mom would have a nice, fulfilling life. Except she couldn't remember anyone's names or the conversations she had with them to make friends. And she didn't like any of the activities that weren't exercise related. That knocked out card games, word games, crafts, movies and book discussions - all those things that help with memory function. Plus, Mom thought the exercise programs too easy. So, we had her join the fitness center where she could work at her own pace three times a week with the help of a physical therapist. After we were gone one weekend in March for the fabulous <a href="http://inhomeconference.org/">InHome Conference</a> and Mom decided to go for a walk with another memory impaired resident in 30 degree weather and got lost, we hired someone to come take her for a walk each day.<br /><br />We thought Mom would adjust and learn to love the place. She complained about being dragged to activities, she complained about having nothing to do. She could not turn on her own television to watch the Australian Open or Wimbledon, so we drove out there to turn it on for her. She would either forget how to turn on her radio or end up accidentally changing the station, and then forgot to ask for help with it, so she was miserable without her music. She wandered throughout the building. On at least two occasions, she went to the concierge in the middle of the night in her pajamas to demand to be given her morning pills.<br /><br />Then she started telling everyone how much she hated the place. As the weather improved and our schedules lightened up for the summer, we began taking her to her house in Indiana for the weekends. This became the only place she was happy, which meant we took her there nearly every weekend and for a whole week in July. She told everyone she ran into how much she hated living in her CCRC and even said "I don't know why they make me live there."<br /><br />I spent a month working to arrange for live-in caregivers so Mom could live in her own home. (This took longer because of three major storms that took out our power three times, caused major tree damage, house damage from our tree to the neighbor's house, a complete loss of the entire contents of two refrigerators and a standing freezer.) The caregivers can live with her on an alternating schedule, so the two of them can get some respite and days off. They have agreed to walk an hour a day with my mother, take her to the store, hairdresser, etc. Mom can be in her own home, with her own books and her own schedule.<br /><br />It's been a week. And she hates it. She has all the same complaints as she had in Assisted Living. I believe, though, that she is safer and better taken care of.<br /><br />I had hoped for a magic bullet. Now I know there is none. My mother does not understand what is happening to her. The only thing that would make her happy would be to have her old life back. Her life before dementia and before my father's Parkinson's. I can't do that for her and can't continue to sacrifice my family and home to try to make her happy. <br /><br />Maybe with time she will come to accept where she is in life. Maybe she will rail against it until the very end. <br /><br />It is beyond sad.Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01651067225047126728noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8227290795303901449.post-12297278286375409872011-05-17T22:35:00.003-05:002011-05-17T23:17:38.017-05:00Good Impact<div>I consider myself to be fortunate to have wonderful friends. I'm always learning something new from them, forever expanding my horizons and changing my way of thinking.<br /><br />One friend suggested having a documentary discussion group at our weekly park days with the homeschool group. We selected the film <em>No Impact Man</em>, but then didn't discuss it much. We will probably talk about it more at a future park day. I'm glad I watched it. While I don't think I could go so far as to stop buying toilet paper, the film made me think about how big of an impact my family has on the environment. Yes, we regularly spill over our five recycling bins each week, but wouldn't it be better to not have all that stuff to recycle in the first place?<br /><br />The movie made me think of all the ways I used to be better about reducing our waste and how far I have slipped back into the mainstream in the past few years. We used to have worms eating my garbage. We had an indoor electric composter for a while. We have had pets that eat our vegetable scraps. All those have gone by the wayside - the worms were freed when they ate too slowly, the composter died under the weight of our bread crusts and banana peels, and we are on our last rabbit. She has lived two years beyond her expected life cycle.<br /><br />Between <em>No Impact Man</em> and the Polar Bear lecture a week or so ago, I'm going headlong on a bender about our consumption and waste. My benders are seldom pretty.<br /><br />Today's target is our food. Actually, that has been a target for a few days now. We've been eating more meatless meals and less processed food. Or trying to. I decided we should be making our own bread again. Back when we had just two kids and when they were less busy, I made bread all the time. Complicated breads and simple bread machine loaves. <br /><br />Today, I opted for a bread machine loaf. Yesterday I made foccacia on the grill, which got me on a roll. I found a recipe someone gave me that I had been meaning to try. When I got back from taking Small to his one hour dance class, I ran out again to get the strange ingredient - mashed potato flakes. I had a little guilt because I am capable of making my own mashed potato flakes in my dehydrator, but wanted to ride the wave of the desire to use the bread machine. <br /><br />Nothing is simple or straightforward in a house with three kids, so getting the ingredients (while scoring a clearance sale on Italian sausage half off, there goes the meat reduction thing) was easy enough, but I pushed the envelope on the time factor. I asked Large to water the outside pots while encouraging Medium to practice her 4th half hour of piano for the day, and scurried off to the kitchen to put in the ingredients for the machine. But, the rain barrel was full and strangely off its cinder blocks with the spout smashed in, so Large needed more help. The phone rang and a new assignment fell on my lap. I picked up a weeping Small who was worried about me being five minutes late, did a little more cooking, had a non-text conversation with Mark, another dance class for the older two, another round-trip to the north side and came home to a sleeping house and a completed four hour bread machine cycle. This is what I found inside.</div><br /><div></div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 180px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5607895321541808370" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEmfnTCKoMkF0dPE30CadG0ercAIXxobs3stKT-HEk0fBWtSYNchNp8Sl6EVDOAEyRC7jbnYXRahvP9TX_hN7MSQW9BS1EeQo7ixjG6I0vjD5Eyhjp0Uu4yKu3Q0f-vrYJLMBL3QvV_2U/s320/bread.jpg" /><br />A failure to add yeast. It is a large hockey puck. Or maybe a shot put. Waste. Impact.<br /><br />On the other hand, between runs to the dance center, I managed to put in a double batch of granola. I left instructions with the men of the house for completion and after discovering the bread disaster, I found this.<br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 180px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5607895326658548194" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEgUhPhplhnm_8xRvujtsWbOMpxncdXbRHrOLo7caj3U_Xy5hp9y4yT54sqCNHJftA2lSBVlTNpfCp2HzV3B0OAilHfF9uvLUfKkL4xDC-shwTzR4RQhtoSgXB1aDqr6keSAMXJmGQEQc/s320/granola.jpg" /> Breakfast! And I have my friends to thank for it.<br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div>Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01651067225047126728noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8227290795303901449.post-62805324920666607352011-05-14T13:00:00.003-05:002011-05-14T13:19:38.256-05:00Give and Take<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVct3a3l3iACSy3BepSQCbt6qJwq1rWu9PCSzeiAKVMuqArynQi9Ni0zH0i3FbcQuJ8VnaDHAu3pwiCK9aABrbdP_qji09Z_9FgMiorkR-KMM0Hpdn8MpT9ehfq__MHG8FmKko7wlyRrw/s1600/2011-05-14_09-41-32_71.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 180px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5606633517588438450" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVct3a3l3iACSy3BepSQCbt6qJwq1rWu9PCSzeiAKVMuqArynQi9Ni0zH0i3FbcQuJ8VnaDHAu3pwiCK9aABrbdP_qji09Z_9FgMiorkR-KMM0Hpdn8MpT9ehfq__MHG8FmKko7wlyRrw/s320/2011-05-14_09-41-32_71.jpg" /></a>Ever since my Mom moved back to our area, we have been taking her to her house on the Indiana dunes every couple of weeks. This means that one or two weekends every month we lose time to spend on our house, yard, garden. It means a much longer drive to <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">Large's</span> dance classes at the Academy of the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">Joffrey</span> downtown. It means we have to arrange for someone to take care of our menagerie. In general, it is a disruption and has added another layer of complication to our lives.<br /><br />On the other hand, we get to spend time in one of the most beautiful places in the Midwest. We get to stay in a comfortable house at least twice the size of our own. We get to cook dinner in a kitchen that affords us the opportunity to see an amazing variety of birds out the window. We wash dishes while watching hummingbirds at the feeder. In summer we get to see lizards run around outside, frogs perch on the windows at night and enjoy our selves for hours on end on a deserted beach. <br /><br />So, we don't complain. We are learning how to work around the disruption to our domestic routine. As long as the house is important to my mother, she should be able to keep it and visit it whenever possible. She wants to have more big family gatherings here, even if her days of cooking dinner have passed her by. She gets confused in the house, misplacing things. But she knows it is hers and it reminds her pleasantly of my father. Just after he died, it was hard for her to be in the house he built. Too many ghosts of his long decline were lingering to disturb her sleep. She focuses more now on the happy memories now that some time has passed. As do I.<br /><br />It is always a big homecoming to my mom when we drive up. She thinks it has been months since she was there, when really it has just been a few weeks. She marvels at how clean everything is, forgetting my efforts to tidy up when we leave and ignoring the dead bugs everywhere. She checks on the fish, who are always happy to see her and be overfed. She asks me to build a fire. The house brings her a lot of pleasure, but also some anxiety. It's size is <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">overwhelming</span>, she's always looking for clues around the rooms to remember what she is supposed to be doing. She's always anxious about leaving, about getting the day and time right to leave. In a way, it's probably a relief to her to go back to her apartment, to her other home which also doesn't quite feel like home.<br /><br />The kids enjoy their time there. When it rains, they read, use my father's art supplies or play <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">wii</span>. When it doesn't rain, they are outside exploring or on the beach. It's a magical place for them, an integral part of their childhood. They are so lucky.Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01651067225047126728noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8227290795303901449.post-79496999879696766252011-05-11T10:15:00.003-05:002011-05-11T11:08:51.480-05:00Unexpected Moments<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ8LvlwAIelFR0u8t_GJ82VECXKHHxN4vboh4OjJnwDCTXYMFX-AaHUqTldrSf1Cb_yfmA6hMk0ydWrkO31D-068o5wO9rSR79ii4IvOYb36fiXA6cAeULuYyiycY5nb859-zHkHfVg4s/s1600/chagall.bmp"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 179px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5605478151528326530" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ8LvlwAIelFR0u8t_GJ82VECXKHHxN4vboh4OjJnwDCTXYMFX-AaHUqTldrSf1Cb_yfmA6hMk0ydWrkO31D-068o5wO9rSR79ii4IvOYb36fiXA6cAeULuYyiycY5nb859-zHkHfVg4s/s320/chagall.bmp" /></a>This past Saturday, I had an unexpected addition to a planned visit to the Art Institute with Medium. We sometimes hit the Art Institute with Large is at his Joffrey class. Small decided at the last minute that he really, desperately wanted to come along. I suspect he just really, desperately didn't want to go with Mark and my Mom on their walk, to a plant sale and shopping at the Jewel. He pleaded his case impressively while we were hurrying to get Large to class on time and we brought him along, full of conditions.<br /><br />Medium and I wanted to do the audio tour of the King, Queens and Courtiers exhibit, did he understand that? It's a half mile walk to the Art Institute from the parking garage near the Joffrey and he wasn't to complain on the walk. We were going to go to the plant sale at the Lurie Garden afterwards and he couldn't complain about that either. Yes, yes, yes, he got it.<br /><br />For being only 7, Small did very well with the audio tour. No, he didn't make it to the end. Yes, much of the time it seemed like he was only interested in using the device, announcing "Done!" each time he got to the end of a segment. But he got what he could out of it. Because we were 45 minutes into it by the time we got to the Da Vinci, he was not all that impressed. And he didn't like the chicken fingers at lunch, but my fish and chips weren't all that great either.<br /><br />What he loved was being with us, having his big sister explain things, hold his hand while crossing the street and gripping mine when he was afraid of the bridge going over Monroe to the Modern Wing. It was an unexpected group of happy, tender moments.<br /><br /><div></div>Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01651067225047126728noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8227290795303901449.post-87620932234254020982011-05-08T09:07:00.004-05:002011-05-08T09:26:14.084-05:00Mothers<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTp-jVPHAA8oKzlIVUtm_WO2zF6h6yyb0roV1UjnugQ-eufs2L3KtNTVQHmAv-tlTZMleJRv1xewQhZbLwQhGH_5vYyNYSpW2EUKofyzGvvbDQqY8Kh3EKGRviQUwW6L_VRq121h3CCuo/s1600/gosslings.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 184px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5604346955779362322" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTp-jVPHAA8oKzlIVUtm_WO2zF6h6yyb0roV1UjnugQ-eufs2L3KtNTVQHmAv-tlTZMleJRv1xewQhZbLwQhGH_5vYyNYSpW2EUKofyzGvvbDQqY8Kh3EKGRviQUwW6L_VRq121h3CCuo/s320/gosslings.jpg" /></a>It has been six months now since my mother returned to the area. She went to stay with my sister in New Mexico after my father died, but came back for a visit and decided to stay.<br /><br />At first she lived with us. That was a challenge in many ways, but we knew it was temporary. We found a Continuing Care Retirement Community for her nearby and she was placed in assisted living. While physically very active, she is declining mentally and needs help with many little every day things.<br /><br />Her apartment is 25 minutes away from my home. There are many, many places she could have lived in that were closer. Some of those met her first two basic requirements: no religious affiliation and no buy-in. But her biggest requirement was to live in a place where she can walk every day the weather cooperates. Most of the winter, I bemoaned the fact that the drive to see her was longer than I wanted it to be. Now, I am grateful and believe we made the right decision.<br /><br />My mom isn't one of those little old ladies who is content to walk to the duck pond and back. She wants to go for a few miles, walking nearly an hour at a stretch. Her community boarders a large park system. Her walk takes her past baseball and soccer fields, a skate park, water park and huge community park with two ponds and a creek, picnic shelters, nice hills, beautiful flowering trees and some wildlife. She loves her walks. Because I can't be there every day to walk with her, we have hired help to take her out. This walk is essential to her well being, the days she only gets to the exercise classes or the fitness center are not good days for her.<br /><br />I really enjoy the days when I am able to walk with Mom, particularly now that I am not as worried about how cold she is. Sometimes we have a three generational walk with one of my kids along, most of the time it's just the two of us. We catch up on our news and then mostly walk in silence, Mom walking a step or two behind me. I think she does that to make sure there is nothing to trip on, no matter how I alter my gate, she remains a bit behind.<br /><br />We saw a family of geese the other day and many nesting ducks. We also heard chorus frogs near the tennis courts. Mostly we just walked in silence and enjoyed the day. I am glad to have her living close to me.Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01651067225047126728noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8227290795303901449.post-76023977145057549022011-05-07T09:41:00.004-05:002011-05-07T10:05:07.056-05:00Too Young?<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfDWG3B0KU5Hkyz3bu7rX258vmYUJ1O_ddTOx9CLAGLV5makZF3v_D5NPmlbQvKJA9C9i1CFqqkWqJVJOCucUCJ_H9C2nl1b6CyaUdaEMTj31Jv2MkjYF08mwQH8u9yv0-kzq4QcOpxnI/s1600/polar+bears+international.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 180px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 131px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5603984880971617346" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfDWG3B0KU5Hkyz3bu7rX258vmYUJ1O_ddTOx9CLAGLV5makZF3v_D5NPmlbQvKJA9C9i1CFqqkWqJVJOCucUCJ_H9C2nl1b6CyaUdaEMTj31Jv2MkjYF08mwQH8u9yv0-kzq4QcOpxnI/s320/polar+bears+international.jpg" /></a><br />When we renewed our membership to the <a href="http://www.brookfieldzoo.org/">Brookfield Zoo </a>this year, we decided to upgrade to the Supporting Member level. We did this for two reasons - dolphin show tickets add up and Medium wanted to attend the lecture series. All in all it's a great bargain and supports a wonderful organization.<br /><br />Medium and I went to a lecture on polar bears the other night. I'm guessing she was the youngest in attendance, but this isn't something unusual and isn't something that bothers her. She enjoys lectures. Two polar bear experts with <a href="http://www.polarbearsinternational.org/">Polar Bears International</a> explained how the bears live, mate, hunt and die in the wild. We learned a lot about these great animals, and a lot about how climate change is affecting their habitat and threatening their existence. We learned about trends in climate change, saw the data and the global effects of green house gas emissions.<br /><br />We saw a friend on the way out, who expressed alarm that Medium may be too young to hear the dire predictions. This is the same friend whose testimonial about the lecture series prompted Medium to want to upgrade our membership level, so we were not at all offended by her genuine concern. Honestly, I knew the topic in advance, we read the blurb together and agreed we wanted to to. It never occurred to me to consider Medium to be too young.<br /><br />Medium has always been an old soul. She reads voraciously - fiction appropriate for her age level and interests, non-fiction all over the map. She has many interests and pursues them at her own pace. We talked out it on the way home. We agreed that some of the images were a bit strong, after all, hunting is not pretty. We both wished we didn't know about cannibalism in the polar bear population, but that we can't just thing of them as cute cartoon animals. She knows about climate change, this child, she's read and learned much about the dire predictions for our future. I could no more shield her from this doom and gloom than I could prevent my children from playing video games. That is to say, I suppose I could shield her, but feel it would be a disservice to limit her explorations of the world around her.<br /><br />We are looking forward to the next lecture night.Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01651067225047126728noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8227290795303901449.post-81946565027004096532011-05-06T08:58:00.004-05:002011-05-06T09:08:06.770-05:00Xtreme Fun<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnsyKEiyuseYIA2WJdM-Jjvkdxl4Hxwz5u5yCNvLyWOERk-i4Ti9NCWmA5AF0iXyYfwWuQbzsBB4Lul038MmIJR3VFvfVh-DpeC-JqcSjt0tL2V89LVcSPO0YaI5S3VB2iMe7ljaxs0fk/s1600/xtreme.bmp"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 182px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5603602679490233762" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnsyKEiyuseYIA2WJdM-Jjvkdxl4Hxwz5u5yCNvLyWOERk-i4Ti9NCWmA5AF0iXyYfwWuQbzsBB4Lul038MmIJR3VFvfVh-DpeC-JqcSjt0tL2V89LVcSPO0YaI5S3VB2iMe7ljaxs0fk/s320/xtreme.bmp" /></a> Sometimes, we just have too much fun.<br /><br />I saw a billboard for <a href="http://carolstream.xtremetrampolines.com/photos">Xtreme Trampoline</a> on my many trips to and from St. Charles during conference planning. I thought it might be fun and went to the website, found the group rates, arranged a date, sent the call out to homeschoolers and pretty much forgot about it.<br /><br />When it hit on the calendar, the kids were pretty excited. When we got there, they were in heaven. 2 hours of non-stop jumping, bouncing, flipping and playing with friends. Because they opened early for us crazy homeschoolers, we had the place all to ourselves. I'm guessing there were 40 people there, most of them knew each other. It was like a giant party. Dodge ball on trampolines! Doing flips into a foam block pool! Bouncing off the walls, literally!<br /><br />Next time I am enforcing a deodorant requirement for the kids in my vehicle.Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01651067225047126728noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8227290795303901449.post-8693315496817437552011-04-14T20:36:00.003-05:002011-04-14T21:20:22.311-05:00Schooly<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKJW0dkMPgoY6WInyn3WiHYmf49vTenIT97Z6HKLboIRVj4tianeKjxMGeSZf6LCu4wC1hP1XpvPmaJMz6DLl_FlO2gW1-jtyQ7FssPJI0EjLzhp4CVWjUxSNNPekHPbRzQda99Qz1V1g/s1600/DA+beach.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5595618614323317762" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKJW0dkMPgoY6WInyn3WiHYmf49vTenIT97Z6HKLboIRVj4tianeKjxMGeSZf6LCu4wC1hP1XpvPmaJMz6DLl_FlO2gW1-jtyQ7FssPJI0EjLzhp4CVWjUxSNNPekHPbRzQda99Qz1V1g/s320/DA+beach.jpg" /></a> OK, so I don't have kids in school and am not really aware of the complications and issues that arise in that situation. Lately, though, I have been channeling my inner 1970's era stay-at-home mom. <br /><br />The last two weeks we have had early morning field trips to programs at the College of DuPage. Early morning means we had to plan to leave by 8:45 and hit pavement by no later than 9:00. This was a major problem for my family. Significantly worse than getting to the library by 11 a.m. when it is five minutes away, although some weeks even that takes herculean effort. Thanks to homeschooling, most of the time my kids can sleep until they are no longer tired. Most days that means 12 to 13 hours after they go to bed. Sometimes longer, sometimes shorter. It's a healthy set-up. Upsetting the system is nearly catastrophic. Luckily, the field trips have been worth the upheaval. <br /><br />We also have had our first ever report card for Large, now age 12. This came a few months ago, but was only significant to me. Large has been taking classes in ballet and jazz at the Academy of the Joffrey Ballet in Chicago. He received straight A's. It was meaningless to him, the only accomplishment he feels is in his own improvement and the enjoyment he receives from his classes. He would have felt the same way about himself had he received straight C's or D's. <br /><br />With my Mom, however, I have had both the call from the Principal and the Nurse's office. My mother is not a child and is not treated like one. I received a call from her Assisted Living facility telling me she was a security risk because she tried to take a walk with another resident and got lost. It felt very much like I imagine the calls to the parents who's kid punched another kid on the bus feels like. (Hey, wait. That was me in the 8th grade!) Except that in addition to breaking the rules, they were mostly concerned about my Mom's safety and well-being. I suppose that could be the same case in schools, but tend to believe it is not. The Assisted Living folks were really concerned that she could just wander off and get lost. I know it all came about because I was gone for four days and wasn't able to take her out for walks. In a school setting, probably, the whole issue would have been about the rule infraction. <br /><br />When I got a call from the nurse because my mother still does not feel up to a full meal because of a head cold, it was like all the times my mother was called when one of us had thrown up at school. Except that my mother is a frail elderly adult, not a child with a stomach bug. Kids with a fever or vomiting at school are a threat to everyone else. An elderly person with a cold is primarly a threat only to herself. <br /><br />Through much negotiating, with assistance from my brother and paying someone to take her for walks, we were able to secure my mother her freedom again. And now we will work out a system to get her some cold medicine to ease her discomfort. I will get her more groceries. Life will be good again, spring will come and illness will pass. <br /><br />My kids will continue to get the sleep they need. They will continue to feel about themselves what they do and not take much notice of outside evaluation. They know what they are good at and what they like to do. When they were younger at park district programs, they couldn't understand why the instructor gave them candy for a correct answer. Now they just think that grown-ups are weird with school-aged kids, unless the adults are homeschooling parents. <br /><br />I, on the other hand, have been reliving my nightmares of sitting outside the Principal's office preparing a passionate speech about my justifications for slugging the brute on the bus. Trust me, it was a good speechElizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01651067225047126728noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8227290795303901449.post-88232636549428168642011-04-04T08:18:00.005-05:002011-04-04T08:40:45.996-05:00Learning Styles<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8-wun6KSiaLIAJcqH0hn_kSX40-iwwj38KL394rUD9OFEoJy9kUGgq7GBfNpubUSvdYKdbApJu9W11GR9VQi1s61D4qDHNrqpGEniUAygGONpB0SLoJpoFk24N1bpB5fG7w-NPtJ7dU0/s1600/julia+art+institute.bmp"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 179px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5591717587087057106" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8-wun6KSiaLIAJcqH0hn_kSX40-iwwj38KL394rUD9OFEoJy9kUGgq7GBfNpubUSvdYKdbApJu9W11GR9VQi1s61D4qDHNrqpGEniUAygGONpB0SLoJpoFk24N1bpB5fG7w-NPtJ7dU0/s320/julia+art+institute.bmp" /></a>As is usual on Saturdays this year, Large has ballet and jazz classes at the Academy of the Joffrey Ballet. He loves them. I have been enjoying the 3 hours of uninterrupted time to work on the <a href="http://homeeducatorsconference.org/">InHome Conference</a>. Three hours of being interrupted only be text messages is a wondrous thing to a busy mom. <br /><br />With the conference just past a week ago, Medium and I decided to do something we had been wanting to do for some time. We went to the Art Institute, purchased an audio tour and immersed ourselves in the John Marin watercolor exhibit. We spent an enjoyable hour looking at the paintings and listening to the explanations on the headsets. We had seen the exhibit a few weeks earlier and wanted to learn more. Medium loves this sort of thing. A few weeks ago we breezed in for a quick lunchtime lecture on the Chagall windows. She was by far the youngest in the crowd and listened intently to the lecturer. She is the reason we purchased a higher level membership at the Brookfield Zoo, because the lecture series will be free for us. She reads every sign in museum exhibits. <br /><br />My boys may have been interested in the audio tour, although probably not for the entire duration. They also learn a lot from museum exhibits, but in different ways. It is nice to be able to take one child, addressing their needs as individuals whenever possible. At the same time as our visit to the Art Institute, Large was pursuing his passion for dance and Small was showing his Grandma the delights of the Children's Garden at the Morton Arboretum. <br /><br />We are very lucky indeed.Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01651067225047126728noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8227290795303901449.post-37625030481508913832011-02-12T13:55:00.004-06:002011-02-12T14:10:13.536-06:00The Wringer<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZWeFL41gocdugcoDf0p7nNeLzJkckcnXXStlHsXaVHiil7f3fiigWT801niE-4cSXaa24j6pD7A1J3-IOyxy03NwpIwgdgwsiwcPQq9D9GEBScUgU3R5G7Je9dWFbgcEuHuWjn6XxBwE/s1600/wringer.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 190px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 265px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5572894388805337458" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZWeFL41gocdugcoDf0p7nNeLzJkckcnXXStlHsXaVHiil7f3fiigWT801niE-4cSXaa24j6pD7A1J3-IOyxy03NwpIwgdgwsiwcPQq9D9GEBScUgU3R5G7Je9dWFbgcEuHuWjn6XxBwE/s320/wringer.jpg" /></a>My family has been through the wringer lately. And we've come out safely on the other side. I've been thinking of just how many times we have been through this wringer in the past few years, how difficult some of our more private moments have been and how we wished our lives to be different when we were in the middle of them. Yet, somehow we always come out on the other side. Worn out a bit, but dusting ourselves off and ready for more.<br /><br />Whatever it has been - illness and death, adult sibling near-warfare, foundation shattering questioning of our life's path - we have come out whole, as a family. We go through it together, although sometimes in different ways and from different vantage points. We come out together.<br /><br />My children experience life differently than I did at their ages. My parents shielded us from the "real" world, from disagreements and difficulties. My parents also were in a new country, with no siblings, parents or other relatives anywhere near them. Perhaps because I didn't have a model for how to deal with life on the outside of the insular family, perhaps because we homeschool and have chosen to spend the majority of our time with our children, my kids have gone through the wringer with me.<br /><br />I think they are stronger for it. They understand financial distress in a real way - not just in "we can't afford that" terminology, but in an understanding of the family's debt to income ratio, our comfort level with risk, and our long range goals. They have a better understanding of old age, illness and death. Most of all, they know that the world isn't going to come to an end each time a roadblock is thrown in their path. They know they will come out of a difficult time, perhaps changed or scarred, but they will emerge on the other side. I think I was in my later 30s when I truly understood that.Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01651067225047126728noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8227290795303901449.post-60804429635557760892011-01-03T10:12:00.003-06:002011-01-03T10:28:27.069-06:00Life Changes<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5Bi3JkofMlvwXRQpgWc3TOCDc1TWlkIHIlOmtf6ISGctKGiJjJf1hFD7dguqBSKu_vPXxEfThdr8nNLYEbBfYTMSuwQCvU-SuHy5fhFJPuTN9m0l9LVecG9q2vMYH5pXHTzxaz5b1MzA/s1600/mom+on+the+wii.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 180px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5557994314974367234" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5Bi3JkofMlvwXRQpgWc3TOCDc1TWlkIHIlOmtf6ISGctKGiJjJf1hFD7dguqBSKu_vPXxEfThdr8nNLYEbBfYTMSuwQCvU-SuHy5fhFJPuTN9m0l9LVecG9q2vMYH5pXHTzxaz5b1MzA/s320/mom+on+the+wii.jpg" /></a><br /><div>One of my New Year's Resolutions is to blog more. Along with knitting more and weaving some again. All creative pursuits that have been lacking in my life.<br /><br />My mother has been living with us for a couple of months. She'll be moving into assisted living in a few weeks, but keeping her house on the lake. We love having her here, we missed her terribly when she was so far away with my sister in New Mexico.<br /><br />Our homeschooling life has adjusted with Mom here. We've had a notable reduction in the amount of time I can spend with the kids. We have been more relaxed with our schedules. I have missed more of our weekly activity group meetings than I am happy with. The kids who don't do well without a bit of direction and prodding have been playing many more wii games than reading, the one who is self directed has been doing just fine.<br /><br />When I haven't been finding a community for my mother to move to, handling the lease agreements, the doctor's appointments, the shopping for things she'll need in her new place, I've been distracted by doing what is possible to keep her comfortable. She doesn't like to be left alone and needs help with many basic things. She doesn't want to be, and isn't, a burden, but she does distract me from things like reading to Small, helping Medium with a new project, or directing Large to put down the controller and read something.<br /><br />On the other hand, the kids have learned larger life lessons by having her live with us. Small gets to entertain her nightly with monologues about various toys or star wars story lines while we get dinner on the table. Medium and Large have helped her in numerous, respectful ways and are seeing something of old age other than cartoon grannies with canaries. And we've all learned to slow down a bit. Our speech, the pace of our lives, our decision making. It's been a good thing.</div>Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01651067225047126728noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8227290795303901449.post-60148826610538224602010-09-20T18:08:00.005-05:002010-09-20T18:32:49.548-05:00Sometimes Parenting is Hard<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4JRBKvqq6_NKmOhrPkewMqu4-JzgOyBMazCOycAaGGOwggW6neNRGH5cm9WT2h_dXKaO0QGlsVGMGegbbRCJeYgyfugZQ1d7ujbrTRNJilJaR6awbgGyt2toLQCYlijSHIE2CqDFAr5E/s1600/DSCF1728.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519137601289292658" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4JRBKvqq6_NKmOhrPkewMqu4-JzgOyBMazCOycAaGGOwggW6neNRGH5cm9WT2h_dXKaO0QGlsVGMGegbbRCJeYgyfugZQ1d7ujbrTRNJilJaR6awbgGyt2toLQCYlijSHIE2CqDFAr5E/s320/DSCF1728.JPG" border="0" /></a> I started out this morning thinking that homeschooling is wonderful. Small breezed through his reading today and allowed me to read three books to him without getting all squirmy. He was cute and cuddly, and now has an eagerness to become a fluent reader that he didn't have before. We've been waiting for that spark, holding off on instruction until he was ready to be instructed. Sparks are good things. Struggles are not.<br /><br />Then I changed my thinking and realized that sometimes homeschooling is hard. Large and Medium were not getting along. Not getting along in a loud, angry, insulting kind of way. They could not agree on who would read the history chapter first. Why this led to an all out struggle is unclear, but it wasn't pretty.<br /><br />We were going to Park Day, meeting a bunch of homeschooling families for a nice afternoon of play and parents chatting. Last week's Park Day ended with Large whining that we had not yet done history. In response to that, this brilliant parent decided we should do history first. We are on a survey course of history, the kids want to finish it to move on to more in depth study of periods that particularly interest them. I suppose we could just skip the step of finishing out the 19th and 20th centuries together, but they don't want to.<br /><br />So, I decided that sometimes homeschooling is just hard. I waited for the storm to pass, they worked it out, ending in a few giggles. We read the history, discussed it and moved on with the day. Later, a friend helped me to see that this really was just a parenting issue, not a homeschooling issue. It could have been anything that set them off, they are siblings after all. And close siblings, just a bit over a year apart. They do nearly everything together and probably get sick of each other several times a day.<br /><br />Sometimes families are hard. But as homeschoolers I think we tend to hold ourselves to higher standards. We aren't allowed to have bad days. We could, after all, just send the kids to school and get some time to ourselves in the middle of the day. I sometimes fantasize about the wonderful projects I could get done during the day if they weren't with me, if I wasn't driving all over the 5 county metro area to get them where they needed to be. But I would be just as unproductive if they were in school as I am with them out. And I'd miss the fights and the reconciliations. Those are some pretty important life skills.<br /><div></div>Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01651067225047126728noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8227290795303901449.post-14366387166794520202010-09-09T09:58:00.002-05:002010-09-09T14:37:13.489-05:00Changes<p class="mobile-photo"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiYsu4AWl2uYwjDqI0if0mdWNqXRO8i5kEEa-E1FvtMNrzp0xAJ9d4YsJgSck9NsPszN8VqG4Ab4qBg8hrnbHm8YYVrmQmilSpMZFNHZ13U1ighSlJKK1_o_Q-sxf1lfHuQb3iTiQX4dU/s1600/mms_picture-727022.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5514928392700347682" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiYsu4AWl2uYwjDqI0if0mdWNqXRO8i5kEEa-E1FvtMNrzp0xAJ9d4YsJgSck9NsPszN8VqG4Ab4qBg8hrnbHm8YYVrmQmilSpMZFNHZ13U1ighSlJKK1_o_Q-sxf1lfHuQb3iTiQX4dU/s320/mms_picture-727022.jpg" /></a></p><p>For the first time ever, I planned out our homeschooling schedule. I've been using the <a href="http://www.homeschooltracker.com/">Homeschool Tracker </a>for a while to capture attendance records. In the past I've had great intentions at the beginning of the year to plug in each and every activity for record keeping. But we never accomplished as much as I planned and it turned out to be a whole lot of work for me, with little benefit. <br /><br />This year, though, we were faced with several time challenges. Our goals include finishing The Story of the World as our history overview for Large and Medium so they can focus on particularly interesting episodes and get into further details. They also wanted to try a more structured science program and chose Life Science from <a href="http://www.plato.com/">Plato</a> learning. They want to continue reading literature together, perfect their cursive, learn to write articles and papers, build their vocabulary and progress in their math. Small, of course, wants to become a more confident reader, absorb the world around him and have fun.<br /><br />With all our activities, dance and piano classes, homeschool group meetings and Roots&Shoots, it's hard to fit everything in. All three kids have a paying gig as dog walkers, Large has five hours of dance a week, Medium has three hours of dance, girl scouts and piano. Small has on hour of dance and piano.<br /><br />Add to the mix my volunteer work with the wonderful <a href="http://www.inhomeconference.org/">InHome Conference</a>, teaching science lab, facilitating Roots&Shoots, helping new homeschoolers find their way in our <a href="http://www.housewestside.org/">Westside House </a>group and my need to earn significant money to pay for all this, and you get an idea of my sense of panic.<br /><br />One final complication is that our login to Plato, made affordable through the Homeschool Buyers Co-Op, is active between the hours of 1 and 4 only. So, I carefully mapped the time we each could spend on each activity, overlapping where necessary, separating the kids when needed and put the schedules on nice colorful charts on the wall. It's been working for a couple days now, with some adjustments we might do OK. Most of all, the kids seem to have more play and daydream time now.<br /><br />I, on the other hand, have no time. I can fit my conference work in when there is a computer free and if I can have access to my files. Our great idea is to sell books on Amazon, initially from our own stock and later from thrifting. This can be a good way to earn money, but I just don't know where I'm going to squeeze in trips to thrift stores and library sales, to the post office for shipping and computer time to track orders. I guess I'll know it when I see it.</p>Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01651067225047126728noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8227290795303901449.post-12626822680819086342010-09-07T08:48:00.002-05:002010-09-07T09:02:33.765-05:00How We Started School<p class="mobile-photo"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2l8EmoyzhafrfF3LQlUYddoY9e1OdV8XI1Z23vc6bTy8KdpMYp-9T2l9lpBuK_mjLgXFX9VYADmFIt4PJYDA4jlsKCRuZON9aMtyHC8RWcek18Tn1ITspu62uVo_fNBO1m-3TTTp5BS0/s1600/mms_picture-702888.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5514168075342623250" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2l8EmoyzhafrfF3LQlUYddoY9e1OdV8XI1Z23vc6bTy8KdpMYp-9T2l9lpBuK_mjLgXFX9VYADmFIt4PJYDA4jlsKCRuZON9aMtyHC8RWcek18Tn1ITspu62uVo_fNBO1m-3TTTp5BS0/s320/mms_picture-702888.jpg" border="0" /></a> </p><p class="mobile-photo">We began the school year with a vacation. It just seemed right, watching the neighborhood kids trudge off to school with their heavy backpacks while we were packing and preparing to go. I've never been much for following the school calendar, but do keep track of our learning days as the state requires. The August start rule seems harsh to me, and did as a child. August is still summer, schools are rarely air conditioned, the sun is shining!<br /><br />We went to a YMCA family camp in the northwoods of Wisconsin. We learned and lived much more there than we would have at home with our usual schedule. It is a beautiful, quiet, secluded spot. The kids met up with old and new friends, were gone from the cabin except when hungry or at bedtime. They caught turtles, frogs, and snakes - or rather watched as other kids did the dirty work. They kayaked out on the lake and watched bald eagles soaring overhead, looking for a meal. The foraged for firewood and birch bark, learned archery, played group games, swam, jumped off the raft and got eaten alive by mosquitoes.<br /><br />On the way home, we saw this handsome pink elephant not half a mile away from a similarly huge cow. Not sure what the lesson was supposed to be there, but we enjoyed it all the same.</p>Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01651067225047126728noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8227290795303901449.post-82384898460490406172010-08-04T15:35:00.002-05:002010-08-04T16:03:18.569-05:00The Art of Doing Nothing<p class="mobile-photo"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgToSHLMqLVbjlgCo635z4FVs0tlnCu4NKaZOOpvSVWND_Y0tyL-DmwKt8Q_HRTWLg5tyoDNPR2bB2WcKCtpwvYjGsF4Tl5nrDe5dCaHcU_Rb2vbkTtbrmOOtIuRnUBSFFVBeYlyOutrvw/s1600/mms_picture-709681.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501656007182167586" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgToSHLMqLVbjlgCo635z4FVs0tlnCu4NKaZOOpvSVWND_Y0tyL-DmwKt8Q_HRTWLg5tyoDNPR2bB2WcKCtpwvYjGsF4Tl5nrDe5dCaHcU_Rb2vbkTtbrmOOtIuRnUBSFFVBeYlyOutrvw/s320/mms_picture-709681.jpg" /></a></p><p>We have been mostly unscheduled this summer, for perhaps the first time ever. Large and Medium both really hoped to do an art camp and an archery camp. Small wanted to do gymnastics and needed swim lessons. I had an urge for long car trips to the Badlands and Mount Rushmore, out to the Jersey Shore and back, along the Louis and Clark trail. Unfortunately, an unplanned home improvement project cut into our funds deeply and cancelled all but the already paid for.<br /><br />We've still had things on our calendar. Homeschool park days and bowling days are favorites. Dance and piano recitals. Museum visits and family reunions. And responsibility for my parents' house has brought us to the beach happily and frequently.<br /><br />But mostly we are just being still. Medium has learned to act on her boredom by finding what truly interests her, which seems to be everything. Large and Small have had endless days of play with the block boys. I've developed a plan that will hopefully bring in more income so we aren't in the position of telling the kids they can't do something again. <br /><br />I have memories of summers like this. But really, it was probably only for August that we lived the life of the unscheduled, unplanned. We swam competitively, with daily workouts and weekly meets. As we got older we had two workouts a day, taught swimming and coached activities. So my memory of the endless summer days of play and fun are either from before the age of 7 or from those August days between the swim team awards banquet and the start of school. Three weeks, tops. <br /><br />But such sweet memories they are! I can't remember a single swim meet, they all blend together. But I can remember entire conversations I had with my best friend, hours of solitude along the creek at the edge of the meadow, reading whatever I liked, long weekends at the beach.<br /><br />I hope our kids have that memory, not just of summers, but of their yearly schedule. It makes me want to pull back even more on our activities, precisely at the time when Large's dance schedule is becoming more complicated. We will still have days with nothing on board until the evening, days to follow our own interests and inquiries, evenings devoid of homework an paperwork worries.<br /><br />It's hard to not sign the kids up for classes, club and activities as they come along. Some many great homeschooling parents are bring together kids in such exciting ways, that it feels like we are missing out if we don't participate in everything. Now I find us wanting to pull back not just for financial reasons, but because we want some time alone together. Homeschooling is an evolving adventure.</p>Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01651067225047126728noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8227290795303901449.post-81914071003426507182010-06-30T17:01:00.001-05:002010-06-30T17:25:34.806-05:00On the Beach<p class="mobile-photo"> </p><p class="mobile-photo"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEier-JE3kXxnASq9FNq9E40HAhGrq0yjdkXtvE7x8vUrTy3LExc7bs9WiWwoPYbPdzuxhPh3xp4HVPIY3spz_RsWoOHUaMKvVFmO4_Ajp82gsOADYWt-5nA3oWnZDDoX_qJCliZu2HlGgA/s1600/mms_picture-723743.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5488690419511352626" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEier-JE3kXxnASq9FNq9E40HAhGrq0yjdkXtvE7x8vUrTy3LExc7bs9WiWwoPYbPdzuxhPh3xp4HVPIY3spz_RsWoOHUaMKvVFmO4_Ajp82gsOADYWt-5nA3oWnZDDoX_qJCliZu2HlGgA/s320/mms_picture-723743.jpg" /></a></p><p class="mobile-photo">We have been fortunate lately to be spending some time on the beach. The beach near my parent's house on the dunes is quiet and mostly deserted. Some days we see no one, others we have occasional joggers, walkers or see other families playing in the distance. <br /><br />Most of the time we hit the beach after a days worth of errands or cleaning the house. It's a great respite, especially as I find the time spent in the house to be emotionally draining. I often bring a book and don't touch it, preferring to sit and think.<br /><br />Lately I've been thinking a lot about how my parents handled the job of parenting and how it is the similar or different from my own methods. The beach we handle in the same manner. The kids carry whatever it is they want on the beach, usually that is nothing. Sometimes the take a towel. I take a water bottle and my beach chair. When they were younger, they each took a bucket and shovel, or yogurt cups or something to create sandcastles with. Then they realized they needed nothing on the beach to amuse themselves.<br /><br />Typically we climb over the dune, the kids running up the hill on the hot, hot sand to get to the shade at the top. Then they scamper down the stairs, dash across the sand to the water and go right in. Now that they are older, they have to wait until I'm on the beach before going in beyond knee depth. I used to be able to match their speed.<br /><br />If it's windy and they can ride waves, they stay in the water a long time. I sit and watch, the water still being too cold for me to go in on all but the hottest of days. Then they come out and each do their own thing on the beach. Large lately has been creating structures out of driftwood, which is why he wanted the towel. Medium sits right on the edge making sand sculptures with the wettest of sand. Small digs holes, makes mountain shaped "lake houses" or slides down whatever ridges the latest storms have left behind. It's a magical spot where they can be and do what they want to, as unstructured or complicated as they want it to be.<br /><br />My parents let us have a lot of this kind of time in my childhood. We went to this very same community, but to a different beach. We walked along the road or through the sand dunes, carrying our own stuff. Usually nothing at all, except for our teen years when we concentrated on our tans. But even at home, we had a lot of magical spots where we could go and just be with our own selves and the thoughts in our heads. They lived on five acres in a not quite yet suburban sprawl area. Even as small children, my mother would pop us out the door in the morning and expect us to come home when hungry. Or hurt, or tired. We weren't watched over as closely as parents tend to do now, and we certainly weren't scheduled to tightly, especially in our younger years.<br /><br />I wish we had more opportunity for this kind of life, the magical solitude and freedom to just be. We don't live in the same kind of setting, but we seek it out and take advantage of it as best we can.</p>Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01651067225047126728noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8227290795303901449.post-16422806441356238732010-06-24T19:20:00.004-05:002010-06-24T20:53:20.922-05:00Weathering the Storm<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIEqS5IdqM_tRNztHZIw1cucCGeV9fOyvDBv9-T7XTbbtvm6msysopajnC95riHEnvDYh9NqqEro-tsl7NMSCilCzZ_Eze_6ipaQB1wYCQ_d9pPN-F_trFo2eHIsW9PW__JShlZQlBM6M/s1600/mms_picture%5B1%5D.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5486519997820588210" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIEqS5IdqM_tRNztHZIw1cucCGeV9fOyvDBv9-T7XTbbtvm6msysopajnC95riHEnvDYh9NqqEro-tsl7NMSCilCzZ_Eze_6ipaQB1wYCQ_d9pPN-F_trFo2eHIsW9PW__JShlZQlBM6M/s320/mms_picture%5B1%5D.jpg" /></a><br /><div>We've had some stormy weather lately. I'm not sure if it's unusually stormy, but it sure feels like it. The storms have been pretty severe as well, with lots of rain and more than a lot of wind.<br /><br />Last night we had the privilege of riding out the storm in my parents' house. It's in the part of Indiana where the lake is mostly north and a little bit west. They built the house on top of a very high and steep sand dune when they were 70 years old. The the lot was available because the previous house had burned down, in no small part due to the lack of water pressure in the town's fire hydrants. My parents were risk takers.<br /><br />The house is built to maximize the view. Most of the living takes place on the second floor, which puts you nearly at tree-top height as you gaze out at the lake. The entire mostly north facing side is floor to ceiling windows, the living room and library have sliding doors leading to decks. It is stunning in the spring when the dogwoods are in bloom, and in the fall when the oak leave change colors. The house is curved a bit on each side, offering a more panoramic view. This picture is looking more to the west than north.<br /><br />It rained all morning yesterday, torrential downpours with flash flooding as we ran errands to maintain the house and cars. There was a break in the late afternoon, so the kids and I went to the beach. After a while, looking northwest across the lake, I saw Chicago vanish in a sea of darkness. we heard distant thunder, felt the winds kicking up and headed back to the house.<br /><br />We sat down to dinner and my angle from the kitchen island was a mostly westward view of the storm marching towards us. In minutes the trees you see here were bent nearly in half, wet with rain and crippled by the wind. We watched the wind open locked windows on the south side of the house. We felt the water bashing the windows. We watched the lights flicker on and off several times before going out all together.<br /><br />And then I had a chance to reflect again, as I have often done these past few years, on just how smart a man my father was. I grew up knowing of his scientific genius, witnessed his limitless skills in maintaining, designing and constructing houses, barns, room additions, etc. I was in awe of his ability to draw, photograph and sculpt. He could explain anything, and sometimes I could even understand it.<br /><br />But I had also seen his failures. I had watched him calculate the exact angle and force to hit a cue ball in order to get the object ball into the correct pocket - and then seen him execute the shot and miss entirely. (This was a move named the "Grande Crewe" in the billiards room at the University of Chicago's Quadrangle Club.) I had also seen him, with my brother, cut down a tree that was threatening to fall on a neighbor's house. Again, they calculated the angle to avoid hitting the house and then proceeded to drop it right on the roof. My father was more than human.<br /><br />Last night, as the lights shut off and the wind battered the house, I felt safe and like a glass in a dishwasher. I knew my Dad had put in an emergency generator to beat all emergency generators. He had foreseen his physical decline and knew he would face the end of his life with some medical equipment that would need a constant energy source. His generator is not based on a tank that needs refilling, but was hooked to the main gas line to the house. He was ultra-prepared.<br /><br />So, when it failed last night, it came as no surprise to me that the variable he had failed to factor in was human maintenance after his death. The motor oil that lubricates the engine had run out. Mark was able to refill that, managing only one wasp sting, and get the thing running. My father kept a lot of things is his head. Like the knowledge of which outlets are powered by the generator in an emergency. Last summer we had to get the HVAC guy to come out and tell us which ones would be able to provide power to his bed and oxygen machine.<br /><br />My father spent a couple of years trying to convince his carpenter and window installer that the windows and doors in the library were going to leak. He knew the house had settled, creating a slightly steeper slope to the deck. He could feel the air flowing under the doors when no one else did, could anticipate the rate at which the water was gaining ground. He designed the solution to the problem. But until it leaked, he couldn't convince anyone to do the work. It was an expensive job, and the leak was spectacular when it burst through.<br /><br />Last night we also witnessed the next failure Dad had anticipated. The entrance to the house is a two story atrium with two sets of floor to ceiling windows stacked on top of each other, forming a bridge to the two arced halves of the house. The top center window showered water in rivulets onto the window sill and carpet on the second level and down to the slate first floor via the open spaces in the bridge. Not as spectacular as the library leak to the bedroom below, but it wont take too many more rains for that to come.<br /><br />Just as my father correctly diagnosed himself with Parkinsons' Disease a few years before a neurologist could confirm it medically, he lives on in his predictions concerning his largest last masterpiece, this house. When I called the carpenter this afternoon, he choked up. The carpenter had a 12 year relationship with my father and misses his wisdom and humor. He knew exactly where the leak was before I told him, knowing it was what my father was worried about. He told me it took him a while to realize my father was a genius and that he misses him.</div><div></div><br /><div>Last night's storm was more than just weather.</div>Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01651067225047126728noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8227290795303901449.post-27199453396737007382010-05-26T16:17:00.002-05:002010-05-26T16:43:37.106-05:00Science Lab<p class="mobile-photo"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO_lWeDMBUsdjVNEleaLlyXtWmMPQGvIvGSYBGOm1VQO9tVAwg18mSTEGsZS6VwSANrpUpR-75jSh7NwQqDVOvoMNi3Y3Fsg4Fqr0sUiWaC6rhXis_U8Rmedfj2fOB8rP9TEO5EBbXhNU/s1600/mms_picture-731295.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475690879719177938" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO_lWeDMBUsdjVNEleaLlyXtWmMPQGvIvGSYBGOm1VQO9tVAwg18mSTEGsZS6VwSANrpUpR-75jSh7NwQqDVOvoMNi3Y3Fsg4Fqr0sUiWaC6rhXis_U8Rmedfj2fOB8rP9TEO5EBbXhNU/s320/mms_picture-731295.jpg" /></a> </p><p>I am going to miss my science lab while we break for the summer. We have lately been building simple machines and experimenting with them. This is a group of fun, bright and engaged kids. We've done a lot of work, they have learned a lot, even done some fancy math with me and had many laughs. Probably, being such a small group helps. They are mostly friendly with each other, but divide themselves along gender lines. I guess that's normal for 9 to 13 year olds. <p>We were engaged in our investigations until the weather turned nice. Then they, like everyone else, just wanted to be outside. See what I mean? Smart kids.</p>Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01651067225047126728noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8227290795303901449.post-48679946903499393232010-05-25T16:48:00.003-05:002010-05-26T16:45:13.340-05:00Field Trips!<p class="mobile-photo"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg47eyzuBCDnpx5PZ-eU3aCFcIhA56I2ECYXQYJClhJUPuQA72qjwRcSTJL5JaBvFwTVHJV-kjau-YUCh_ML6jEPSH8zub6zX5nVDO_JSnei5plU7xbhbfpqygRTkRmHMz1TrJGk9sV2bY/s1600/mms_picture-701582.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475327825090468930" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg47eyzuBCDnpx5PZ-eU3aCFcIhA56I2ECYXQYJClhJUPuQA72qjwRcSTJL5JaBvFwTVHJV-kjau-YUCh_ML6jEPSH8zub6zX5nVDO_JSnei5plU7xbhbfpqygRTkRmHMz1TrJGk9sV2bY/s320/mms_picture-701582.jpg" /></a></p>We have had a flurry of field trips recently. This picture was taken just before we boarded the Tall Ship Windy at Navy Pier. We had a thoroughly enjoyable, if chilly, sail on Lake Michigan with the Girl Scouts troop.Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01651067225047126728noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8227290795303901449.post-69676278913100887942010-05-05T13:19:00.001-05:002010-05-05T13:25:52.723-05:00Privacy WeekI found this video to be interesting and informative. Thought I would share.<br /><br /><br /><object width="400" height="225"><param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><param name="movie" value="http://vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=11399383&server=vimeo.com&show_title=1&show_byline=1&show_portrait=0&color=&fullscreen=1"><embed src="http://vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=11399383&server=vimeo.com&show_title=1&show_byline=1&show_portrait=0&color=&fullscreen=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always" width="400" height="225"></embed></object><p><a href="http://vimeo.com/11399383">Choose Privacy Week Video</a> from <a href="http://vimeo.com/twentykfilms">20K Films</a> on <a href="http://vimeo.com/">Vimeo</a>.</p>Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01651067225047126728noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8227290795303901449.post-57028054783246561042010-04-24T15:47:00.003-05:002010-04-24T16:19:18.390-05:00Frogs and Tadpoles<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1RHMYlDSPU1_iZNdejkpNSpK5DCuYE_MBC0k0DOLTfpTTY0Huy8XcKjKp5xJ_HyfDgxNqEpIKpwuC-keqaXQrWIU5qVdX89SNt4LK3aXArYlWXWoW_eRLNernTx6SS1AXxWRcQy8dH7k/s1600/DSCF0441.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463812147816524322" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1RHMYlDSPU1_iZNdejkpNSpK5DCuYE_MBC0k0DOLTfpTTY0Huy8XcKjKp5xJ_HyfDgxNqEpIKpwuC-keqaXQrWIU5qVdX89SNt4LK3aXArYlWXWoW_eRLNernTx6SS1AXxWRcQy8dH7k/s320/DSCF0441.JPG" /></a>Small had a class at the Morton Arboretum the other day. The rest of us went along to check out the wildlife around one of the lakes. Mark met us there on his lunch break. <br /><br />We took a hike down the long hill to the lake. I looked along the shoreline for frogs and saw this fine specimen sitting peacefully. It was only after Mark reached to retrieve a fallen water bottle that the frog hopped back into the water. Medium noticed some things swimming a short distance to the shore and asked if they were tadpoles. I don't know my tadpoles like I know frogs, so I said I didn't know, but doubted it. The bigger frogs haven't mated yet, the chorus frogs are only about 1 1/2 inches full grown and these things were already a couple inches long. <br /><br />We then walked further along the lake. Large and I examined a egg shell and watched some geese, chatting with a friendly senior resting on a bench. Medium waited patiently, handed the 3x binoculars back to Large and said, with just a touch of attitude: "Minnows don't have legs, Mommy."<br /><br />Indeed they don't. This child truly needs to be out exploring, sometimes even inside exploring. She reads every single informational sign at museum exhibits, gathers knowledge like a sponge and just never lets it go. Shortly after the tadpole triumph, she calmly explained to me and a group of schoolkids a few years younger, how the snapping turtle she had just pointed out to them and helped them to see in the murky water, catches its food. She said she read it in a <em>Zoo Books Magazine</em> a long time ago. Luckily, I am acquainted with the docent leading the school group and she didn't mind being upstaged by a 10 year old.<br /><br />To top off that truly wonderful hour, after the snapping turtle submerged, a mink scurried across the bridge into the leaves and brush, changed it's mind when it saw Large, ran back across the bridge and along the lake on the other side. We didn't believe it could be a mink, but asked one of the naturalists, who confirmed they have mink in that location. We also looked at pictures to help our identification. <br /><br />It made me a little sad that Small didn't learn that minnows don't have legs, but he heard all about it in the car on the way home.<br /><div></div>Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01651067225047126728noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8227290795303901449.post-15921744224744460252010-04-19T10:25:00.004-05:002010-04-19T10:34:33.072-05:00Glorious Mud<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPY9h5Cl-S6YSO1RiPhpRLzeN2RLg8yvKESqFc3TyRz8Lp0g1Rc4n5bQY2aVXNgocQSo5JZRZxHvtKXi-dh2wEnpw0W-WuiQj9OxBHw4pa6RoDIH7RLGBSkZy8oQqmiKOQ8uqx19ssyyg/s1600/DSCF0388.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461870429691458002" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPY9h5Cl-S6YSO1RiPhpRLzeN2RLg8yvKESqFc3TyRz8Lp0g1Rc4n5bQY2aVXNgocQSo5JZRZxHvtKXi-dh2wEnpw0W-WuiQj9OxBHw4pa6RoDIH7RLGBSkZy8oQqmiKOQ8uqx19ssyyg/s320/DSCF0388.JPG" /></a> Spring has arrived and that means it's time for our Roots&Shoots group to do some amphibian monitoring. We roll logs and rocks, look under branches and debris for salamanders, keep our eyes open for frogs and toads, check the water for egg masses. It's been a much dryer spring than in past years, but that didn't stop the kids from their primary focus - playing in the mud.<br /><br />It's too late for us to find salamander eggs in the water, but we might have found some frog eggs or tadpoles. Mostly, though, the kids wanted to wade in the water and squish the mud between their toes. We went home pretty muddy, but I think this kind of exploration has as great a value as studiously hunting for amphibians. We aren't exposed to the elements the way were were 50 years ago, these kids just don't get the opportunity to get dirty. They had a great time.<br /><br />We did see and catch four juvenile American toads, a skull, a patch of fur, a tooth, a lot of golf balls, may apples, jack-in-the-pulpit and trillium. It was a good day, even if we did lose five of the kids on the way out of the woods. Next time I'll know the path of the stream better and ask the kids to stay out of the water until our way back. That way it will be muddy behind us instead of in front of us and we have a chance of seeing something interesting lurking on the shoreline.<br /><div></div>Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01651067225047126728noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8227290795303901449.post-67256392781331861462010-04-16T09:42:00.004-05:002010-04-17T09:24:57.100-05:00Camping<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYyZrLIOqfRMYFfriKmpsgaFAfN5vE760bXvsxaLYL5SySA1thsgEuJjfAfI2anB-h_kJS818fRFExl7lMqRyHPpNbaVRHbcj8mRdZi5I7JOeAl2s_Q5QYZQihCXSM16DcOFjnXsPb2OE/s1600/DSCF0253.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461111564792554898" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYyZrLIOqfRMYFfriKmpsgaFAfN5vE760bXvsxaLYL5SySA1thsgEuJjfAfI2anB-h_kJS818fRFExl7lMqRyHPpNbaVRHbcj8mRdZi5I7JOeAl2s_Q5QYZQihCXSM16DcOFjnXsPb2OE/s320/DSCF0253.JPG" /></a><br /><div>Every year around this time - when the sun returns to Chicago, the leaves return to the trees and people come out of their houses - our homeschooling schedule gets all shaken up.<br /><br />This year we are responding by doing a summer camp schedule. Our first camp week has centered around exploring the book <em><a href="http://www.freespirit.com/catalog/item_detail.cfm?ITEM_ID=314">What Do You Stand For</a></em>, which I highly recommend. Next week we'll do math, then a week of science and a week of art. This better suits our spring time attention span, which has little to do with handwriting and vocabulary and more to do with exploring big issues in wide open spaces.</div>Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01651067225047126728noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8227290795303901449.post-3312501681169144742010-02-10T12:59:00.005-06:002010-02-10T13:14:23.557-06:00Baby Blues<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKpeP5JOXPtkU9n2NHWIu4NvgmVmdnLcC0byhjROUFWK5_nlDLtaEgPuZQ6O5lg3cxjKoG_rWQgB0wy9-7ANyzQdDxvgHxjq4KD0XK7yPS32B-eNtlSCb5gpTsN9W2ro5Qh-Pgk2nJ6hc/s1600-h/baby+blues+homeschool.gif"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436691426390040194" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 419px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 108px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKpeP5JOXPtkU9n2NHWIu4NvgmVmdnLcC0byhjROUFWK5_nlDLtaEgPuZQ6O5lg3cxjKoG_rWQgB0wy9-7ANyzQdDxvgHxjq4KD0XK7yPS32B-eNtlSCb5gpTsN9W2ro5Qh-Pgk2nJ6hc/s320/baby+blues+homeschool.gif" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />I hope I can get today's Baby Blues comic to look right on the page. Very funny to us homeschoolers. First the kids asked how much the mom loved them and wanted to spend time with them. The dad agrees she wants to spend every minute possible with them, not realizing they are trying to convince the parents to homeschool.<br /><br />My kids are going sledding this afternoon while everyone else is in school. Not quite as cool as video games, but fun none-the-less. We just have more time for fun and are able to put more fun into our days. And more ds time, more wii time, more board game and puzzle time. Not so much tv time, that's not as interesting.<br /><br />Another point I find funny is that you really do need to love spending time with your own children in order to homeschool. All day, every day. A friend across the street once said to me "I don't understand you. I really <em>enjoy</em> when my kids go out the door in the mornings."Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01651067225047126728noreply@blogger.com1