June 1

Since we homeschool, the "end of school*" isn't quite as big of a deal as it is for traditional school families. We sort of ease into the summer, taking longer breaks outside on nice days in April or May and extending the school work into the first weeks of summer if need be. There aren't any huge "last day of school" fanfares or field days or celebrations. In fact, Evan asked me yesterday, "Wait a minute: are we on summer vacation??" He had no idea.

It's definitely fantastic to have warmer weather and more friends home every day for the kids to play with, instead of having to wait for the clockwork "ding dong" at 3:46 every day when their friends are out of school. The rest of the neighborhood adopts our lifestyle for the next 2 1/2 months and it's kind of awesome, to be honest.

Ah, summer.

I love Illinois. I know it's not a popular thing to proclaim anymore, given the state of public education (horrible), corruption of government (let's see how many governors we can get into prison!), and lack of funding for any possible public assistance program imaginable, but I am loyal to this state and I cannot imagine living anywhere else. Not permanently, at least. I get an actual high from driving the country roads in early summer. The smells are so comforting and familiar to me. There's that mix of new grass and freshly planted crops alongside backyard firepits and illegal fireworks that relaxes me down to the core. It's Home, you know?

It's amazing what a little sunshine and some free time to garden can do for one's soul. I spent a few hours in our garden on Friday, planting all of the seedlings the kids and I grew this spring. If all goes well, I will be able to feed my family weeks and weeks of meals from our rectangle of dirt. I cannot explain the thrill of this activity unless you've done it yourself. Maybe I'm just getting old, but I am insanely proud of how great it looks! Patrick and the kids put some serious muscle and effort into turning the ground over, fencing it in, and carting in new soil. I get to reap the rewards by planting and watering and weeding... It's weird how happy that makes me.

I truly wish I could focus my brain to "create" a proper blog post. Alas, these mini collections of half-formed thoughts are just journal entries for now. I'm trying to give myself a break and remember that this blog isn't about creating a masterpiece of perfect literary art; I'm recording my life for myself and my children. I know that I wouldn't care WHAT was written down by my grandmother, if only I had the opportunity to read SOMEthing.

And so, future offspring of offspring, here I am. In 2014, I am 38 and not quite able to form a cohesive blog post, but pretty damn happy in the state of how things are floating along in our lives right now. It's a good day to be me.


*we don't homeschool year round, but we are still doing paper schoolwork this summer, so is "school" really over?

Monday

The spaces between blog posts fluctuates, as usual. I wonder what will happen to the memories of the moments between each "Publish?" In reading my entries from the nearly 7 years of blogging, I find treasures that would have been completely erased, if not for the breaks I took to hit "Publish." Will the memories of the past 12 days of empty blog space be forgotten? Is that ok? Isn't that the way of the living, though; To be forgotten? 

It matters to very few people outside of a tiny circle of loved ones that Patrick and I spent the day together on Saturday, shopping for furniture for the first time in...years. Years and years. Feeling flush with funds and confident that our children are FINALLY able to POSSIBLY keep certain items decent-looking, we are actually able to replace multiple items in our home. It is liberating! New kitchen tile, to replace the tile that had peeled and revealed the sub-flooring was laid by Pat a few weeks ago. A new-to-us kitchen table set is atop the tile and, get this: ALL of the chairs are in ONE PIECE. None of them have missing rungs! And the couch we picked out? It will be delivered soon, only to be moved around in a few weeks when we paint the house and then put in new carpet.

NEW. CARPET.

This is monumental. Our carpeting was builder grade installed when the previous owners built the house in... 1997? 98? Yeah. The carpeting is old. And multi-colored, even though it's supposed to be solid. I cannot even fathom how fantastic our house is going to look in a few months... Every little detail is up for replacement. EVERY ONE. And we are actually in a spot that we are able to do these changes. It feels good, but kind of scary and weird. 

I'm looking out the back window at the dreary mess that is my once-lovely garden. For 2 years, I rocked that little patch of dirt but last summer, I failed miserably. All of these new changes have me inspired to re-commit to growing our own veggies and herbs again this season. I know that my issue last year was being too lazy and cheap. I can envision how lovely it will be with a little more effort and concentrated effort. It will happen. Our table WILL overflow with produce once more. I'm feeling so inspired by the small changes! I want to donate 1/3 of everything we own and fill the empty space with nothing but clean lines and empty shelves.

Stream of Thought

Not to beat a dead horse, but this winter is kinda pissing me off. I don't think we need to make up for 3 mild winters ALL IN ONE FELL SWOOP. I also think it's beyond ridiculous that this massive amount of snow will be melting in the next 4 days. Once the rain begins to fall, and fall, and fall (as the meteorologists continue to predict), all of that precipitation will combine with the accumulated precipitation that is already gathered in heaping drifts around my home...and it will need to go somewhere. Seeing as how the ground is frozen solid, and that we have a history of a slight water issue in our basement (we need to reseal it and probably get another sump pump), I foresee water in the basement this weekend. There is extra awesome added to this possibility (probability) as Patrick will be out of town all weekend and I will be gone for Corinne's gymnastics meet all day on Saturday. Joy! I am positive that Saturday will be filled with absolutely NO anxiety or tension. None-whatsoever. (One truly good part is that Justin will probably want to stay home on Saturday and can then be on water lookout. That said, I don't know how much actual "good" he can accomplish on his own.)

TOPIC CHANGE

At this very moment, instead of hanging out at our usual Tuesday Homeschool co-op, my kids are building a ferris wheel from K'nex. All by themselves. Rather, Corinne built the first half ALL by herself and Evan saw how awesome it looked and said "Can I help?" So now, they are building together without arguing and I am calling this physics/engineering/art/family-team-building time.

Good thing, because I am not in the mood to play referee this morning.

Melisa and I had our LTYM auditions this weekend. In the past 2 years, we suffered greatly from the emotional trauma that comes from hearing pieces that can be brutally painful. Part of the show's beauty, for us at least, is knowing that even though we cannot cast every person who auditions, each person was able to receive validation that their story IS worthy of being told and heard. Motherhood is "given a microphone" in those auditions and that is just as important to us as the actual cast and show itself. Still, it's rough on our hearts. Like, neither of us slept on Saturday night. She had anxiety and I had nightmares that woke me up, sobbing so badly that my stomach was sore the next day. Not the best way to get an ab workout, but I guess every situation has a silver lining.

That said, we KNEW the show this year. Like, it was presented to us and the discussions about each piece were nearly always unanimous on our emotional levels and their need to be in the show. We didn't question ourselves or our abilities to choose the right ones, even if we did need to place dozens and dozens of truly lovely essays into the "no" pile. The amount of time that each person placed in their preparation was SO evident and I cannot say enough how honored this makes us feel. Chicago is amazing. I hope LTYM continues for years and years and years so that we can showcase more of these amazing writers.

Sigh.

Daily life is calling. Laundry, dishes, showers, school... Also, I spoke too soon about the happy-happy family moment over a table full of K'nex. Melt downs are happening. The peace was lovely while it lasted.

Stream of Thought Thursday

Hey there.

How's things?

The days have flown by just as they have dragged. This "Polar Vortex" thing has certainly lived up to its name and caused some serious issues with my own space-time continuim. I've been wrapped up in the frigid cold with all 3 in the house (which also = "no school work" for the younger two. Have you ever tried teaching 2 kids while everyone else in the region is off of school? Yeah...no). I've literally been WRAPPED.UP. In blankets of both ordinary and electric varieties, extra socks and constantly reheated cups of coffee. I've been wrapped up in the details of finding the money for not one but TWO vehicles to get heaters repaired. And to top it all off, the emotional turmoil of reading the heartfelt words from hopeful submissions for the Listen To Your Mother Show has been a roller coaster.

I have compared the production of the show to pregnancy and childbirth before. It is never more similar than this year, our third year, when we are no longer first-timers or even just returning for a second go-around. With the third show, as with my third child, I knew ALL TOO WELL what I was getting into. I didn't have a fuzzy recollection of childbirth; it was CLEAR in my mind. There were no surprises with my third pregnancy-the pains, nausea, anxiety... I went into that pregnancy with my eyes wide open.

I think that this is why I feel so differently this year. I am JUST as excited and JUST as hopeful for the stories to be told. But I know, without a doubt, that for every squeal of joy over being chosen for auditions or the cast, there will be many more tears and feelings of rejection... And there's nothing I can do about that. No matter how we word it, telling someone they haven't been chosen is still a "No." It's still painful.

Maybe producers who cast shows all the time think we take it too personally. It's possible. Probable, actually. But I think it speaks of our integrity when we say that we honestly discuss each and every piece and what it means not only to the show, but also to the writer. We all just want to be heard. To be validated.

Sigh... There isn't enough coffee in the world to alleviate this pain in my head today. I am at least glad that I get to drive through the potential incoming blizzard to Wisconsin this weekend (with a working heater in my van! Woot! Woot!). Corinne has a gymnastics meet and we will be staying overnight to slide around in bathing suits. In February. In WISCONSIN. Makes perfect sense. But it will be a huge distraction for my mind. The upcoming month includes about 2.5 days of inactivity. You read that correctly. There are literally only two and a half days in February where I am not shuttling someone somewhere/working on the show/entertaining/etc. It is going to be so awesome.

Silver linings: My family is healthy. We finally have heated vehicles. I don't have to do the show alone (I love Melisa).90% of the incoming month's activities actually are enjoyable. For all of that and much more, I am grateful. And with that, I am off to teach and pack bags and find socks and be happy.

Footies

"Mommy?"

sniff, sniff

"MOMMY?"

I pried my eyes open to see my 8 year old standing above my previously sleeping head. Tears in her eyes and on her cheeks, she was barely awake herself but obviously devastated about something.

"Wha? What's wrong? Did you have a bad dream?" I whispered, pulling back the covers for her to climb in beside me.

"No, ~insert incoherent mutterings here~ pajamas...sniff, sniff..."

It's 2 am and I can barely hear what she's mumbling. Her mutterings have turned into sniffling mini-sobs and the dog is stirring because Talking=Play Time, so I definitely need to nip this conversation in the bud PRONTO.

"What's wrong, baby?"

She inhales and bawls out, in one fell (very loud) swoop:

"THERE IS A BIG HOLE IN MY NEW PAJAMAS! THE FOOTIE ONES I JUST BOUGHT WITH MY BIRTHDAY GIFT CARD!! AND THIS IS THE FIRST TIME I'VE EVER WORN THEMMMMM!!!!" (She is full-on crying right now)

Ho.Lee.Crap.

Seriously? This is seriously happening at 2 am?

Yep. It's happening, Tracey. So wake the hell up. The dog is twitching her ears, so DO IT SWIFTLY.

"I'm sorry, honey. I know you are really excited about the pajamas. Show me this hole; maybe I can sew it."

I wish you could have seen Corinne at 2 am, blindly searching behind her back for the hole so massive she had to wake me up to bear witness. She turned round and round, like a puppy chasing its tail, till her finger hooked into the tiniest, teeniest, most miniscule hole ever found on any footie pajamas, EVER.

It's moments like these that I worry will escape my memory. These random, off-the-wall, unique situations that really aren't all too special in the grand scheme of Life are the moments I desperately want to retain. No photographs or greeting cards or presents exist for "You woke your mom up at 2 am because of a wardrobe malfunction"... But the blog. The blog is here to remind me of all that has come and gone. If I write for another 10 years on this ole blog and never earn another dollar or fancy perk again, it will still be worth it; these memories really ARE priceless, as corny as that sounds.

Metaphors are WHERE IT'S AT

I am currently an oxymoron. Perpetually focused on many, many details: co-producing the LTYM show (8 more days!), wrapping up our homeschooling year, setting up an abundance of activities and travel opportunities for this spring and summer, planning a major remodel of our home's first floor, getting used to the idea of a huge (and happy) life change for our family (NOT pregnant and NOT moving), and trying to stay on top of the millions of tiny minutiae that make Life full and thick and lovely....

I'm juggling. There's a reason why that verb is utilized so often to explain how we do what we do. Each activity and person and detail needs immediate attention but there are so very many that you can only grasp each ball for a moment of attention before tossing it back into the mix to make sure that you don't drop the next ball which is rapidly on its way towards the ground.

I learned how to juggle in high school. I was madly in love with a clown* and I went to clown camp with him and his family. (True story). I also learned how to make balloon animals, so if ever you need a distraction at your kid's birthday party? Call me. I can make them all dogs, flowers, and swords.

I digress.

When we learned to juggle, we were given 3 soft handkerchiefs. The handkerchiefs float down slowly and are large enough to grasp easily. You have ample time to plan the toss before the second handkerchief will fall to the ground. And because there are only 3, you can even add in a fancy little arm swooshy thing or head bop or foot tapping. Each toss is given plenty of attention. Each toss is done really well and I rarely missed a catch.

I'll give you a moment to picture what it's like when a room full of teenaged clowns-to-be make the switch from handkerchiefs to rubber balls....

My juggling talents have improved somewhat as I've grown older and accumulated responsibilities like human beings to keep alive and shit. And I actually enjoy juggling 4 or 5 handkerchiefs. It's nice to keep my mind active and eyes open to all that is happening around me. It reminds me to pay attention but is still a slow enough pace that I can look at my surroundings while I'm juggling.

Juggling this year's show into the other mix of everything else I have in my life was a lot less stressful. Partly because I've Been There, Done That and it isn't as scary or foreign this time around; partly because I've allowed the other activities and details in my life to float a little longer before giving them their turn. Surprisingly enough, it all still gets done. Maybe with a little less finesse. Maybe with slightly longer grass in the backyard and dust on my shelves. Definitely with more dirty dishes in my sink and school days done in pajamas... but we're happy.When I find myself stressing about dropping one of the very many balls that seem to be spinning around my head right now, I take a deep breath and try to remember that it's really a handkerchief.

Today is too beautiful to juggle indoors, anyway.

*Yes, there are pictures and No, I don't know where they are.

When a Tree Falls in the Forest...

Sometimes the obstacles you find blocking your well-planned path are merely instruments placed there by Life to provide you with a unique experience...

Sometimes you aren't supposed to find the fastest method of conquering this obstacle. Perhaps this branch is meant to cause you pause... This could be the moment in your life where everything changes... 

So instead, when you climb over that deadfall; try pausing and looking around... and reflecting on the heights.

 Step outside of your comfort zone and Surprise Yourself.

This is the stuff I want to remember

My daughter had a sleepover with the two neighbor girls last night.

They played Minecraft downstairs while I cautiously slathered my sunburned legs with vinegar and aloe up in my bedroom.

They giggled and squealed and stampeded around the house for a bit until Patrick had to lay down the law of "Watch a movie and go to sleep NOW." Within 15 minutes, it was absolutely silent downstairs. That's what happens when you're under 10 and have spent the day at the pool.

This morning, I snuck out the door around 6:30 to take the dog for a long morning walk. I wasn't feeling as horrible as I would have without the advice from the internets (thanks for the vinegar/water remedy, guys! It helped my sunburn SO much). Unfortunately, I hadn't put much treatment on my very, very upper thighs and those two spots are still quite throbbish this morning. Still, a long walk in early morning shade was lovely (until I overstretched a muscle and had to gimp back home; I am old) and I am so grateful for the kids' more advanced ages that allow me the freedom to just go for a walk without worrying that they'll burn the house down.

I returned home to 3 sleeping girls. I brewed some coffee and called Patrick to thank him for picking up the fresh grounds when he got me the aloe last night. I was bummed that he couldn't enjoy a cup outside in the morning sunshine with me. You can imagine my surprise when he pulled into the driveway about 10 minutes later.

"I couldn't pass up an invitation like a cup of Brazilian blend on the patio with you."

I love that man.

After a cup in the sun and breeze, he headed back to work and I headed into the house. I was met by the girls and Evan all smiling sweetly at me:

"Can you make us pancakes? Pleeeease???"

Because I am a saintly person, I made them an enormous batch of pancakes on the griddle. They entertained me with their conversations of what going to a spa would be like ("You have to be NAKED!!"), who is cute on a Disney show and who is NOT, and several encores of the Sesame Street version of "I'm Sexy and I Know It".

They're so young, still! Though it feels like they're far removed from the baby days, it was really only yesterday that I was pushing a stroller while chasing a toddler and preschooler. At 13, 10, and 6 my family is moving forward quickly and I just want to remember THESE days with as much nostalgia as I have for the years that have already passed by...

O Happy Day!

Truly, it has been quite some time since I last felt such elation; such anticipation. In fact, I could probably trace the most recent incident of this extreme happiness to somewhere in the winter of 2000, when I purchased a leather coat that I still love and adore.

My friends? It was well past my time for joy...

Flannel. Is. Back.*

I KNOW!

I literally leapt out of my seat and clasped my hands together when not one but TWO TEENAGERS and an adult who works at a high school (an even BETTER fashion advisor than the teens!) confirmed this revelation in my fashion-ignorant head. How did I miss this development? Why didn't I see it coming when the 80's reared its ugly head in scrunch boots and over-sized sweaters?**I mean, it makes perfect sense NOW, in retrospect, that after the 80's big bangles and flourescent colors would come the NINETIES!

Ahhh... the 90's. A time of perfect fashion. A time of flannel shirts, body suits, jeans I understand and hand-beaded necklaces. Bring it ON!

I am so pumped for this comeback! Not only because I may just look "fashionable" for once, but also because I can now stock up on the styles that I LIKE, before they are out of style again. I totally understand why women tend to pick a style and stick with it. This whole "changing the fashion rules every 5-8 years because teenagers want to appear 'unique' and 'special' even though they're really just repeating the styles from a couple of decades ago but using different colors and fabrics so everyone completely KNOWS that the outfit you're wearing and trying to pass off as 'new' is 23 years old instead of purchased yesterday" SUCKS. I want off of this fashion wagon! I don't want to ride anymore! Just let me fill my backpack with ample Grunge-worthy clothing and I'll watch it drive off into the distance. I'll laugh from the ditch in my flannel the entire time the next generation tries to twist bell-bottoms and pedal pushers into some weird concoction made out of see-through fabric that has Wifi capabilities.



*Ok, It has come to my attention that flannel has actually been "back" for quite some time now, but I must argue that it couldn't have been really, TRULY "back" if I hadn't noticed it. I.E. I am confirming the actual START of the Flannel-Come-Back movement. Let your Grunge-wearing commence.... NOW.

**The truth is, I kinda like oversized sweaters but they really only look decent on the very tall, very thin, and very hip. I fall short (literally) on all 3 of those counts and the result is a lumpy potato with hair that is showing its grays...

Living in the Present

The corn is SO crispy right now. You can practically hear the stalks crunching as I type this, for the fields are being plowed at this very moment, securing corn for many cows and pigs and breweries across the midwest. Autumn always makes me feel as though we're living on the cusp of something Grand and Important...

A friend of mine spoke to me about the plans her family has for these next few years. The changes their children will be making in their studies and life styles feel so drastic and foreign. Planning for several years into the future sounds so simultaneously optimistic and stifling to me. The benefits are quite obvious, but having a set focus of distant goals often causes me to worry that we may miss a lovely side-track. Sometimes those meandering little paths are what bring the most joy in my life. Choosing a direction we'd like to travel into is a given and we do know where we're generally "heading", but there is no Set Destination for our family. I don't see as how there truly could be.

Sigh... All of this talk of the Future! It takes away from my contentment of our present. I truly don't mind discussing The Future and the What Ifs it contains, but I know from experience that Life has its own agenda and rhythm. I am not of a mind to wonder about tomorrow when today is so lovely and sweet... Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow will come and those tomorrows will bring the wonderful and the devastating as Life sees fit. All I can do is to try to cover our butts as best we can and let the rest go.

It's absolutely beautiful today. I am sending out my lovely, sweet thoughts to everyone who is struggling through the trenches of Life. I hope the balmy warm breezes of Illinois find you, lift your spirits, and take away a bit of your pain...

A Wednesday morning

My coffee is cooling off, again, and I wait for the sounds of my kids as they awaken at their own rates. I am, once again, grateful for this graceful beginning of our days. I struggle to remember what it was like before we homeschooled. What the mornings were. The rushing. The perpetual reminders to keep moving, keep eating, get dressed, Hurry Up!

No time for slowly waking up and stretching like cats.

Now, every day seems like a gift of Time. A gift of lessened stress. A gift that won't last forever. Like those precious days of my eldest's baby years, this stage is in full swing. We are comfortable within it and have become Good at it. This is usually the marker for a Big Change in our lives. When Life becomes comfortable, the universe likes to throw a couple of dice at you and see what happens.

So, I continue to relish these moments of easy homeschooling life. A 7th grader, a 4th grader and a kindergartener... So lovely and smooth...

Evan has just stumbled into the kitchen at 8:30 am and is reading the directions on the sausage box. The same boy who struggled to learn to read is now navigating the confusing world of microwave instructions. Yes. Microwaveable sausage. Yum.

My day has officially begun.

The coffee will have to be heated up, again.



This is my first Just Write for Heather's site... See others here.

No title necessary

I have so many topics in my head with half-written posts, but I don't want to put them to paper. (Or rather, screen? Hmmmm. That's a particular phrase that will most likely die out in a generation or two, eh?)

I look at the screen, and all I see is "Words with Friends" or "Go to Bed because you're exhausted."

So, I play Words with Friends and go to bed because I'm exhausted. Stupid, bossy brain.

Things I've done that may or may not sound impressive to anyone but myself:

~ directed a P.E. class for our homeschool club. A PHYSICAL FITNESS CLASS. Me! ME! Lemme tell you, I do not scream "physical fitness guru." But no one else was stepping up and I think it went pretty well. All they really want to do is play organized tag games with weird names attached to it, anyway. I can TOTALLY manage that. Last week was octopus tag. This week: CATERPILLAR tag. No problem.

~ Steam cleaned my carpets. Again, ME. I DID THIS. Another attribute I am not noted for possessing is the ability to keep my house clean. I will pick up, and occasionally, go crazy cleaning top to bottom. But that's usually when a party is coming. And, even then? I've gotten pretty blase about trying to impress people that truly know me. So, to steam clean my filthy, filthy carpets for NO PARTICULAR REASON? Is like a hoarder voluntarily filling up a dumpster.

~ Celebrated my anniversary with Patrick. Hmmm. I guess that this line isn't really something I "accomplished." But it meant that I had to buy a CARD at the STORE. A trip to the store for a single purchase is rare. So that means it must be true love.

~ Watched the weather stations like a hawk because we are doing something FUN this weekend and it says that it might rain! This would suck exponentially, so I keep trying out different weather stations to find a forecast that I like a little better. Please cross your fingers and toes so that we can actually attend this awesome activity...

~ Filmed my baby learning to ride a bike!!! She just figured it out, yesterday afternoon. And now, she's like a pro! I pulled the boys outside to clap and yell. Evan watched his sister doing BMX tricks (no joke) up and down the sidewalk. He then popped his shoes on (because we're ALWAYS barefoot) and began to practice on his bike again!! My mind is racing with the possibilities that we might be able to go on a family bike ride!! Let's just hope that he doesn't give up too soon. Justin was the same age (9) when he finally got on a bike and took off, so maybe that will encourage him....

Good Golly, this was dull. Except for the bike riding. Even a troll would have to admit that THAT was really cool.