WOW! Nice skin, kid!

We're getting ready to head to the mountains of Georgia for a camping trip with my sister and her family. I'm so excited. I'm also dying a slow death from the pollen around here lately and the pollen fog is what is causing my complete inability to get organized. (Think Wizard of Oz when they all pass out in the poppy field.)

Today, we ran to WalMart to fill prescriptions, get Tim's hair cut and pick up essentials (marshmallows, chocolate, graham crackers and a little more chocolate).

Some background . . . Last week I took Ian to the dermatologist. His skin isn't terrible, but it's been making him angsty and the over the counter stuff seems to make things worse. The entire visit was semi-horrifying. Doctors in general make me REALLY nervous. Don't judge me, we're all different and special in our own ways. My reaction to this nervousness is to become ravenously hungry once inside the examine room. I'm well aware of this "quirk" and usually keep some crackers or some sort of little snack in my purse for just such occasions.

Poor Ian! Sometimes just being 15 and actually HAVING a mother is traumatizing. If you have ME as a mother, it can be especially life-damaging. (Trust me, most of you have never heard me really start laughing - it's not pretty.) I forgot I'd given Andy my last little baggie of crackers the night before. As soon as the doctor (we'll get to her) walked in, my stomach started to growl. Not just a little rumble. It was more like the movie Alien. It was loud and angry and I was half-sure whatever was making the noise inside my stomach was going to rip me open and kill us all. I was mortified and, I'll admit, kind of entertained. Ian? Let's just say I put a large post-dated check into his therapy jar.

The doctor? While we were waiting for the doctor, I was reading brochures. My goodness, if we had money, I could look 25 again from the neck up. Sure it would be freakish and wrong, but think of the great up close Christmas cards we could send! There was also a brochure about the practice. Our dermatologist graduated from medical school in 2006!!!! Let's work this out ... this doctor was still in(the first version of) pull ups when I was graduating high school. Seriously, she was 12! Cute as a button and she seemed to know her stuff, but she was so wee and young and she offered me half of a sandwich when my stomach started acting up. She's lucky I didn't scoop her up and put her in my purse. She gave us some prescriptions and emphasized that I should check to see what insurance covered before I filled them. Mind you, she had to shout this information at me over my intestinal alien (God, getting old just sucks) ...

Fast forward to today at WalMart . . . I told the woman that I needed the allergy med rx's filled but was looking for a price on the skin stuff. I came back after the 20-minutes she told me it would take. I walked up to the chin-high counter and asked for the damages. The pharmacy lady said the allergy meds were on order and that the skin medication (it's a pill) was not covered by our insurance. I kind of shrugged and asked how much it would be to just pay for it (the wee doctor gave us samples and Ian's skin is remarkably improved in just 4 days). Go ahead ... guess what pimple pills cost? Nope ... $485 for a month's supply!!!!! I actually choked. After I choked I started to laugh. The pharmacy lady laughed with me. We decided for that much money, I'd be better off getting Ian a really cool car. If you have a really cool car people (read cute teenage girls) tend not to notice the pimples. Gah!!!!

Needless to say, I have a call into the dermatologist. I'm so glad she had me ask first. She did have a couple of alternatives and she said she'd be happy to call those into the pharmacy for me. But, still, I wonder who has insurance that would cover that medication? It's not a life-threatening condition ... crazy.

So ... lucky me ... I'm going back to WalMart on Thursday. I'm going to pretend I'm driving Ian's imaginary cool car when I go.

Meanwhile . . . what am I forgetting to pack for this camping trip?

Drive-by posting . . .

It's late ... I'm sleepy ... I still have laundry to move and fold and dishes to dry and put away . . .

I'm officially an "old" mom. Today at tae kwon do, I drove the kids because I needed to run an errand on that side of town, I was wrapped up in my book and not paying any notice to the kids on the floor beating the hell out of each other. In fact, this is what I pay money for each month - the chance for my boys to beat each other up in a "safe" way multiple times a week. Sometimes I forget what it's like when your oldest child has just turned 10-11 and moved into the higher level classes.

I was reading and happily sucking down a GIANT Diet Coke when a hand grabbed my arm REALLY hard. I looked over to see a mom I have known for at least the past five years. She was MAD. She glared at me and said, "I don't care if he is your son, I"m going to take him down." I was oblivious. I looked out on the floor and saw this mom's son crying and my oldest son patting his back and looking to the instructor for help in handling the situation. Their instructor handled it very well and the class continued.

I was a bit rankled at being man-handled, but the more I thought about it, the more I got it. I've watched the older boys work through the very awkward 10-13 years and they all (some more than once) were kicked square in the face or under the chin. As a mom it's a horrible thing to watch. As a tkd participant, after sitting through classes for the past eight years, it seems to be a necessary step to moving up ... once you're kicked hard in the face or on the chin, you NEVER forget to guard your head. EVER.

Still, I was worried about the other mom. She and I have been friendly since her son was 5 and Andy was about 3. I like her a lot. She's a big reader and I've enjoyed talking about books and just life in general with her. By the end of the class, she grabbed my arm again and apologized for over-reacting and promised me she'd never actually hurt one of my children. Whew! I let her know that I understood her reaction completely. Again. WHEW! I'm so happy she let it go as quickly as she did. Her son is fine.

The thing is, though, I've seen this play out so many times over the years that I have a hard time getting worked up. It's Tae Kwon Do, not ballet, folks. At some point someone is going to get kicked and but hard. They'll get over it and learn from it. Ten years ago, I could not have been so laissez-faire about it all. Now? Eh. I'm glad today's episode ended on a friendly note all around.

I"m really thinking this whole episode seals me into the "old" mom category. Short of talking to the "young" moms about our guinea pigs (which would be weird even for me), I have nothing to say that they want to hear. I'm an "old" mom. How did this happen? Honestly, I don't mind if your tkd kid kicks Andy in the head. And he's my BABY! If your kid can get to his head, he deserves to be kicked. (charming, huh?)

OK - all you "young" moms go appreciate your short people and report back. Before you know it, you'll be a bitter old woman like me.

Why yes, I am twitching . . .

The other layout was too busy for me ... I'm trying this new template until I can find something that totally rings true for me ...

Productive day here. Lots of laundry, scrubbed the bathrooms, changed sheets, more laundry, swept the floors and did not once get mowed down by Mike on his quest to make the backyard jungle behave. Yay us! I just don't get why people think being middle-aged is boring. We're covering it all - danger, drama, sometimes we sing while we do our stuff. It's all pretty exciting stuff if we hold our stomachs in and stand up really straight.

Ian and Danny are home. Sounds like they had great time kayaking and canoeing through Juniper Springs. We did miss them, but the break was good for all of us. And, :::sniff:::, they used their sunscreen! I'm so proud.

Tonight I spent going through the boys history and writing work. I have such a hard time judging their writing. They are so not me and I have a hard time distinguishing what is a good essay and what is a good essay that I never would have written. (Because we all know I ONLY would write a good essay - lol) Overall, I am really pleased. The Great Depression/WWII are HUGE topics and it's something some people spend a lifetime writing about. The boys were coherent and surprisingly thoughtful (we talk about all of this stuff everyday, but I don't check their work everyday - you never know what's going to turn up in their writing!). I'm comfortable that they have grasped the main/many issues of the time period. We're going to move ahead.

Next, we plunge through the 50's, 60's and 70's. I'm so excited. In my own education I never made it past WW I. Usually (for me) history stopped at the end of The Civil War. If nothing else, the boys will be conversant on relatively modern aspects of history. Or not. Who knows where they'll end up. We have plenty of days where I'm pretty sure they'll all be aspiring to be WalMart greeters. I'm not sure how, as a WalMart greeter, you work in building the Suez Canal into daily converstaion. But, I have hope.

Right? It's fine if you just nod and smile and move on ...

Two? Piece of cake!!!

I'm kidding. Danny and Ian are camping this weekend. A neighbor stopped by this evening and the first thing she said was "Your house is sooo clean. And quiet." Truth be told, I spent most of today eating chips and salsa and playing Scrabble online. I did not sweep the floors. I did not do one load of laundry. I did nothing remotely productive (unless you count quality time spent with my Ped Egg - and if you do not own a Ped Egg and you have feet, you need to get yourself to the drug store and get a Ped Egg. If you read here at all, you know I'm a pretty low maintenance kind of person. The Ped Egg is something that goes into our evacuation kit - hurricane, flood, terrorism, whatever. My feet will be scale-free when the aliens beam me up to their ship. Seriously, you need a Ped Egg.) But, I digress.

In case you're confused, let's recap. I did nothing today except shave my feet. (OK, you might be grossed out at this sentence, but I'm totally cracking myself up here.) NOTHING. And yet, my neighbor complimented me on the state of my house. Now she's a regular neighbor - she sees my house in all kinds of conditions. From her this was a high compliment. How, you ask, is this possible?

For me, the answer is to get rid of half of my kids. Poof. The remaining kids are hyper-aware of the fact that I'll know for sure who just showered and left all that mess in the bathroom. They know I'll know who ate what for lunch and left the mess all over the counter. Again, poof. They straighten their butts right up. And, I promise - last time, POOF! My house stays clean. It's really kind of remarkable.

This is not to say that if you have two kids, your house should be clean. The key is getting rid of one half of your children. I'm not sure what to recommend to those of you with an odd number of kids, but you're a creative bunch.

This evening, after my long day of rest, I waited until Andy went to bed and then made some yogurt and granola. I'm including a picture of the granola because it's delicious and I want to remember this batch. Tim was putt-putt golfing until nearly 11 pm. He came home, finished up a bunch of leftovers and went to bed. Now, I'm sitting in the clean house and putting off going to bed. Tomorrow the rest of the boys come home and with them a ton of dirty, nasty laundry and my floors will once again be sand-covered and my bathrooms disgusting. :::sigh:::: Maybe I'll invite my neighbor over for breakfast so the clean house thing will be cemented in her mind?

Less Pissy . . .

I did get some decent sleep last night. That helps. I think that being a homeschooler has its drawbacks. We're finishing up our ninth year and I STILL struggle with trying to cram everything ever written into the end of the year. I know it's not rational, but I get panicky. What if I'm making a HUGE mistake? What if I forgot to teach them something? What if they do something awkward socially? Is that my fault or just them being stoopid boys? For the most part, I'm confident in our choice to homeschool. It's just that end of the year feeling of dread. I'm not sure what I think is going to happen (I've been waiting more than 30 years for the library police) . . . but I just know it's going to be bad. Does that make sense to anyone? Deep down, I know the boys have learned A LOT and are prepared (or will be prepared) for life in the world, but everyone's entitled to some doubt and restless nights, right?

These Easter flowers, given to my mom and recently stolen from my mom's house, have made me happy all day.

Andy came home from tae kwon do tonight as a purple belt. He tried to be cool about it, but I could tell he was thrilled. (Something about him carrying the new belt around with him and taking it to bed and the constant jumping up and down . . .) I'm so proud of him.

And, finally, I'm going to recommend the The Book Thief again. The older boys are studying modern history (1850-present) this year. They have been reading a lot of books. I tossed in The Book Thief after receiving it for Christmas this year. The Diary of Anne Frank juxtaposed to this book is a powerful lesson, in my opinion. Two girls of roughly the same age. Two girls in entirely different circumstances - combined, the books give you an idea of what life for regular people might have been like in Germany during this time. Hard-hitting, tear-jerking and very real books. I don't recommend having your kids read these books (especially back-to-back) if they are younger than 15 (and maybe older if you have a very sensitive kid). Even with older kids, be prepared for lots of talking and discussions and late-night questions (which I have decided is the older kids' way of asking for an extra hug).

Today was just a nice day. The kids did their work and were actually interested and involved. I love those days. I "finished" the laundry (well, it was done at 4 pm, I have full hampers again now at 2 am). The soaps I made over the weekend are looking at lot more promising. Not much, but it's an improvement! I'll take what I can get.

Still kind of pissy ...

Again, I just am. I know it's because I'm tired and because I can't seem to sleep for more than three hours at a stretch. Bad sleep = grumpy blogger. Sorry folks.

For all of you lady runners out there - get a t-shirt! Seriously, driving around in my gas-guzzling SUV filled with four boys - three of those boys being wildly hormonal - we do NOT need to see you running around in your bra. I don't care what they call it in the running-store. It's a bra and I'd really rather not listen to my boys ogle you. And, apparently, it doesn't matter whether you're in amazing shape or if you're just starting out - please get a tank top and give yourself and the girls a little dignity. Puhleese???

Costco shoppers? I am sorry. I shop at Costco because we NEED the volume right now. I'm not stocking up, I shopping for survival. Not to mention I shop at "off" times. It was 8 pm on a Wednesday night AND I would have gladly let you, the one item shopper, ahead of me in the line if you had been there before we unloaded our cart and the cashier had started scanning stuff. AND, I don't speak Spanish, but I understand enough of it to know that you were being rude and vulgar in public and you might want to check that kind of behavior before your toddler picks up on it too. The preschool WILL call you when your sweet little boy starts imitating you.

Costco cashier? Really, you want to know WHY I need three dozen eggs or five pounds of mozarella cheese? I might answer your questions more gracefully if you phrased them more civilly. And, ummm, you work FOR Costco - isn't it good when I buy a lot of stuff? I have plenty of guilt in my life. Your well-intentioned questions simply served to tick me off - they did not make me rethink how I feed my family. Thanks, though.

OK - it's almost out of my system. Bear with me! Earth Day is thankfully over. My urge to turn the Suburban into a sleek racing machine has thankfully passed. But, puh-leese, someone, anyone, explain to me why the president thinks we don't understand that the carbon footprint applies to EVERYONE. WHY fly Air Force One to Iowa on EARTH DAY? Really. It's 2009, not 1979. We get what he's talking about without him physically being there. Couldn't he just stand in front of a virtual wind mill? Did this bother anyone else?

Not sure how any of you feel about Glenn Beck. I never liked him on the radio, but I think he's a total scream on his new tv show. I don't always agree with him, but he's funny sometimes. Mike, Danny, Ian and I caught this tonight and got a kick out of it.

I'm going to give the sleep thing another try. I'm just sure tonight is the night. Right?

Dear Bing,

You and Dad have abandoned us - what if I need to tell you something and you don't answer your cell phone? - to visit with Aunt Judy and Uncle Tony in that sweaty-place they call Arizona. But, I'm not bitter. Bud, the immortal gold fish, is looking pretty good. Ian and Dan took him for a little walk while I watered the plants and stole your still pretty Easter flowers. (What a deal, huh? I buy YOU flowers for Easter and they are still gorgeous weeks later and I take them back to my house and get to enjoy them too!) Ian and Dan found a picture of you in the house and stuck it up next to Bud's tank. I'm not kidding, he wiggled his tail when he saw you. We left the picture there - he *hearts* you and misses you. So do we!!!!

PS - this is just a picture I "borrowed" from Google. Bud has not cloned himself.

Color Me Pissy ...

No real reason, I just am in a pissy mood. I think a lot of it is sleep deprivation. I am craving a good night's sleep .. have been for weeks and weeks ... but it doesn't seem to be in my cards lately.

I made soap over the weekend - I'm still iffy about it. I'm waiting to see the final colors as it cures. I hate when what I think is is a good idea goes bad .. stay tuned ... all my not be lost!

GREEN! I think green is a fine color. It works outside on so many levels. I'm not a fan of green rooms, but I have half of my kitchen painted green. There is a lot of green throughout the house. But, honestly, if I see another commercial, bus ad, newsletter or computer add touting "green" I'm going to scream. Green should not involve buying something. If it does involve buying something, it's just creating a new industry.

I love using old things in new ways. I support people who make things out of old things (when they're useful or really fun or pretty). But, I am tired of it being shoved in my face. Green is everywhere. TV, radio, billboards, movie trailers ... gah.

I'm getting to the point where I feel trendy and stupid when I take stuff to the ompost bin. I hate that "green" is becoming cheap and trendy and icky. We do this stuff because it is cheap and it works and it's not that hard ... we're saving ourselves, not the planet. Lately, though, I just cringe when I see "green" everywhere I go. Where I used to fire up "Old Blue," the Suburban, and ponder what smaller car I could drive and still fill our needs, I'm finding myself taking a scary glee-trip lately. Me, composting, recycling, soapmaking, clothdiapering, homeskooking mom? I'm feeling a little anti-green (with the back of the 'burb full of re-usable plastic bags and boxes for my next trip the to grocery.

The whole focus on "green" is not bad, but it's so forced and fake and really doesn't effect much change.

Whew! Just had to get that out of my system. I feel relieved enough that I will spare you my thoughts on the word "organic." Oh, hell, no I won't. Organic by definition means carbon-based or based on a living organism. Like "green," I'm not opposed to anything "organic." Hmmm ... peppers steeped in pesticides vs. peppers grown in free-range-cow-poop? I want the poopy-peppers.

But, I'm coming to despise the word "organic." It's the free-for-all adjective of the day and I say it MUST stop. NOW! In my twisted mind, being opposed to "green" or "organic" is akin to saying you hate puppies and kittens. I love both. There's no need to shove it all down my throat, thank you very much!

OK - I've said my piece - make it happen (meaning make it stop), people. ;)

Ahhh ... you can just smell the end of the school year!

Andy and I finished up our salt-dough world map today. It took FOREVER for the stoopid dough to dry enough for us to paint it. This map is purely topographical. Andy did most of the work himself and I think he did an awesome job. If you need to find a tundra, Andy is your go-to guy.

Over the summer, I shared my idea of using cardboard "bankers" boxes - painted to match your decor. After a full school-year of hard-use, our boxes held up well. Andy's box is nearly dead. The other boxes sill look pretty good and are serving their purpose. The supply boxes have held up really well. The boys' school boxes are definitely worse-for-the-wear. But, overall, it was was $12 (and some leftover paint) well spent! (Just in case you were wondering!)

Introducing . . .

Esme! We found a new little friend for Jenny-the-pig. After hours and hours of debate we all agreed on the name Esme. She's the same size as Jenny, but she's a wild pig! She hops and dances and races around like her tail's on fire. She's a total scream. Jenny is taking it all in her stride. As I type the two girls (yes, I typed that! In my house, two girls!!!!!) are snuggled up in their little pig house nose-to-nose. The boys and Mike are drawing up grand plans for their new palace.

Scout? My original girl? She's funny. She's loves the pigs. When we put them on the floor she grooms them and herds them around the house. It's really kind of funny. Scout's old, though, and her attention span isn't what it used to be. When she's done herding the pigs, she traps them with her front legs and dozes while they play in her little safety zone. If one of the pigs gets too rambunctious for her, she will tap them with her paw or give her a big nose-nudge. The pigs seem to get it.

Ian and Tim, who are both allergic to guinea pigs, are doing really well with the pigs. They're old enough to know to wash their hands and not to hold the pigs up to their skin. So far so good.

I'm anxious to see if Esme makes the carrots and parsely in their cage turn white (a la Bunnicula". I loved those books.) If the veggies are white in the morning, we'll know Esme has been named well. (Esme is a vampire in the Twilight series of books - Andy hasn't read the books, he just liked the name.)

I'll keep you posted!

Fun stuff - a movie review ...

Andy read the book Coraline (yes, that does fall into the classical education scheme of things) months ago and has been dying to see the movie. I read Coraline years and years ago and didn't remember much about it except that it was kind of dark. But, then again, Andy's got a dark side. Anyway, I'm cheap. I told Andy that we'd see the movie when it hit the $$ theater.

This afternoon, Andy, his best bud Paul and the older boys and I hit the $$ theater and saw Coraline. I LOVED it. I was scolded after the movie for loving it because I had forgotten a few things in the book that they changed in the movie. Oh well. Andy and Paul were absolutely silent and speechless through the movie. Several times I glanced at them and they were both stuck with popcorn held mid-air, mouths open and just gaping.

I wouldn't recommend the movie for a child with seperation issues or a child with a fierce imagination that never shuts down. I would not have taken Tim to this movie when he was 9. Heck, he's 15 and he was still a little flipped out by the movie (despite having read the book and listening to the audio version).

STILL! I loved it. The animation was great. The voices were well-matched to the characters. And there were some real laugh-out-loud scenes.

Did I mention I got butter-flavored popcorn? Did I mention that the $$ theater is the old AMC theater I worked at during summers and vacations through college? It's like a time warp for me to go there. The popcorn maker is the same one that gave me the scar on my fore-arm. The hot-dog-roller-thingie is the same. And, what's totally crazy is - just like in the old days - they only take cash. When's the last time you went anywhere and everyone was paying with actual money? Maybe it's just me ... but it struck me as unusual and kind of retro today.

Overall, fun movie. Anything that shuts Andy and Paul up for 2++ hours has to have something to it. If you have sensitive kids, definitely pre-view it.

I See Purple

In Andy's future. He took the test for his purple belt this morning. It was a difficult five-hour test. It really hit me while watching him today that he isn't a baby anymore. He tested with several other kids. One of the boys he tested with has grown up at tae kwon do right next to Andy. I remember sitting with the two of them when they were both still in diapers. They would play with whatever toys I had in my purse, snack on crackers and babble at each other. And, now look at them! ::sniff::

A five hour test is long for anyone but for 8-9-10 year-old boys, it's a special form of torture. The young teens in the group only highlighted the squirreliness of the younger kids. It amazes me how well most of them were able to focus when it was needed. Still, this age group of boys is funny, funny, funny. I get such a kick out of all their little quirks. Some of the kids zone out and you can catch them making faces in the mirrors or studying something invisible on the floor.

From the time the kids start taking classes, they're taught to turn away from the judges and "fix" their uniforms. Generally, they straighten out their uniform shirts and tighten up their belt. Andy took it to new heights this morning. Everytime he was to approach the judges, he would turn around and attempt to fix his uniform. No matter what he did, he somehow managed to look more disheveled than if he had slept in his uniform. It got funnier and funnier as the day went on. However, he's made HUGE steps since his days as a Lil' Dragon where it was not unheard of for Andy's pants to fall right down around his ankles every time he put his arms over his head. On a good day back then, I would have remembered to make sure he was wearing underpants. At least that's not an issue these days.

This is my favorite picture of the day. Technically speaking, it's not a great flying sidekick - but look at the air he got on that jump. The boy holding the board that Andy is kicking is 6'+ tall. Not bad, huh?

It was fun because Mike was able to be there for the test. He was unable to go to a lot of the older boys' tests because he was usually working. It was fun for me to have someone to talk to while we watched all of the kids. We were both struck by how grown up Andy has become. He'll always be my baby, but he's really not a baby anymore.

And, you can't see him, but Tim had his first turn sitting on the panel of black belt judges today. By the end of the test it was pretty clear that Tim is not a "sitter." I think it was good experience for him, but I think he'd be happier on the floor helping to lead the test next time.

So, all-in-all a great day! It'll be a while before Andy learns if he earned his belt. Cross your fingers it won't be too long.

Mmmm . . .Pita Bread

Here is the recipe I used to make pita bread - last night and again tonight for steak/onion/feta sandwiches. It's easy and came out both times just right! This recipe makes 16 6" (roughly) pitas. I added some garlic powder to the ones I made tonight. Really good stuff. And, it doesn't take long to make at all.

4 c. flour
4 1/2 tsp. yeast (I used 4 tsp and it was fine)
1 tsp. salt
2 1/2 c. hot (not boiling water)
2-3 cups of flour

1. Pour salt and water into large mixing bowl. Sprinkle yeast on top of water and let it sit there for about 5 minutes - until it gets bubbly.
2. Add in 4 c. of flour and mix well. It will be sticky.
3. Add in the remaining flour - I used an additional 3 c.
4. Mix until you have a soft still sticky dough.
5. Turn out on floured board and knead for another 5-8 minutes. I usually just knead the dough right in the bowl while I sit and watch a few minutes of trashy tv.
6. Divide dough into 16 balls - try not to handle it too much.
7. Roll out each ball until it's about 1/4" thick and 6" in diameter.
8. Place on a lightly greased cookie sheet and let it rise in a warm place for 25-35 minutes. (Mine barely rises and it comes out fine)
9. Preheat oven to 500.
10. Bake at 500 for 4 minutes. Flip the breads and put back in for another four minutes.
11. Wrap in a dish towel for 3-4 minutes right out of the oven.

Happy Friday!

Gotta take the triumphs where you can get them sometimes . . . My triumph today was making pita bread! AND it was beautiful! It had pockets and was beautiful and I made it. Tonight we stuffed it with caesar salad and chicken. I made 16 pitas, fed the six of us and two friends and there is nothing left. Yay me! I'm thinking about what else we can stuff into pita bread.

I've been sitting here waiting for the kitchen fairy. She must be busy tonight or something. I hope she has a date, I know she's been lonely for a while. I guess I'm going to have to go in an eat her "offering of chocolate" and do the dishes. :::sigh::::

It was a LONG week of school. The older boys are sold on their hatred of Caesar. They are the trio of Brutus/Bruti. They might hate Julius, but they are doing a good job with his writings. I dunno. It's the end of the year and I'm burnt out beyond belief! I'm struggling to hang in for the next couple of weeks. We're finishing up our NINTH year of homeschooling and I'm tired. Not tired enough to stop, but tired enough to need a good long break.

Off to bed early for me. Ian and Dan are off to help another Scout with his Eagle project. Andy is off to tae kwon do to test for his purple belt! I can hardly believe it. I love the kids tae kwon do school. If you want a black belt, you defnitely earn it. Andy started tkd at 3 1/2. He worked through the Lil' Dragon belts. For our school, the belts go: white, yellow, orange, green, blue, purple, brown, red and, finally, black. It took the older boys five years (at least) to earn their black belts. Andy is getting close. He's not the baby I think he is any longer (except in my heart). Cross your fingers for him tomorrow!!!

Like it?

With poor old Scout losing her vision, rearranging the furniture on a bi-weekly basis (like I used to) seems cruel. But, I've discovered I can "redecorate" my blog. How fun is that? I have to redo my blog list, but that's ok. I love the new look (for now) and it's given me a nice boost.

I'm so happy tomorrow is Friday. We're going to wrap up school for the week and I can reassess where we are in terms of finishing up the year. The boys have accomplished A LOT thus far. If they had a normal mother, they'd be done next week. But, they do not have a normal mother. (And, if the stock market ever comes back there will once again be plenty of money in their therapy jars to cover any damage I'm inflicting right now.) There are just a couple more things that I feel like we have to cover, even if we do it quickly.

I graduated high school never having a history class that made it past The Reconstruction. I graduated college never having a history class that made it past WW I. At the very least, I want the kids to be exposed to modern history - how we got there, implications for the future and influences on music, language, literature and art. I also want them to see how cool it is to go from Latin to English and back again. So we will plug along a little longer.

And, in case you live in a cave, you really need to watch this video! I'm so grateful to Susan Boyle. I loved her when I saw her she was a combination of a wonderful girl I knew in college and a woman I worked with when I was right out of college who was equally wonderful. Neither could sing. I think I'd like Susan Boyle whether she could sing or not. But, things like this make me realize how amazing the world is right now. I'd never have "met" her without the internet and YouTube. None of us would have met her. Amazing and inspiring. Can you imagine having a voice like that come out of your mouth one morning? I sure can't. I'll be keeping track of Britain's Got Talent this year. I cannot imagine how much this woman's life has changed and will keep changing. I'm certainly routing for her.

PMS House or The Nut House? And, why we *heart* Andy!

Sometimes it's just such a fine line between PMS and insanity. I'm not sure which side of the line I'm on right now. Most likely, I have a foot on each side of the line.

Poor Mike came home today in the midst of an argument, a loud argument, between Danny and me today. What would cause Danny and I to raise our voices to each other? Why, the proper use of the ablative and the nominative cases in a translation of one of Caesar's writings. Ummm...gee, I'm thinking Latin wasn't the real issue, but that's what we chose to shout about this afternoon. I hate shouting. A lot.

Mike walked in and tried to intervene. This did not go well. 1) Mike doesn't know Latin and 2) Mike is as clueless about PMS as my boys are. Amazing but true. I pitched a fit at Mike and Danny and the world in general and went into my bedroom and took a nap. I know, very mature of me, wasn't it? Sometimes, though, stalking off and hiding under the covers IS the grown-up thing to do.

I got up from my tantrum/nap around 8 pm feeling human and civil again. I apologized (sort of - I was still right about the ablative thing). We settled in as a family to watch the results show from American Idol. The contestants sang, as a group, the song "Maniac" from the movie Flashdance.

I'm of an age where I have to admit to owning more than one cut off sweatshirt AND legwarmers - then, not now! Mike and I were talking about the movie, oblivious that Andy was paying attention - he seemed to be playing with Jenny, the pig. But, at some point, Andy put Jenny back in her pen and walked out just as the song was finishing. He came back and stood in the middle of the living room, arms stretched high over his head.

Mike asked him to move so everyone could see the tv. That's when Andy opted to dump a giant cup of water over his head and start jogging in place. It was the funniest thing I've seen in a long time. Mike and I were on the floor laughing. The older boys were immediately on YouTube looking for the original video - THEN they were on the floor.

So a bad afternoon turned into a good night. In case you're not familiar with Flashdance or if you just need a refresher:

Ch-ch-ch-changes ....

I have a lovely email group and I mentioned to them that while I have plenty to do everyday, I'm BORED. I'm WAY bored. I know it's a childish thing to say, but I am at a loss. I do not derive satisfaction from laundry or a beautiful dinner. I just don't. Someone from the email group suggested that this is a normal reaction to having kids about to leave home. Makes sense, but (and it's ALL about me) I'm still bored! ;)

I think part of my struggle is being married to a man who is supremely happy with his life. He no longer is a slave to a corporate restaurant. He goes to bed early, gets up early, eats a super-healthy breakfast, works out at the Y, works all day, comes home to a decent (on my good days) dinner and starts the whole cycle over again. And he's happy as a clam. On the weekends, he still gets up early, races around taking care of the yard, the garden and whatever else strikes him. (I know, I'm so unlucky!) Poor man, married to me, the shrew ... I'm never happy and I will fight to the death my right to sleep until lunchtime when I can. Even when I am happy, I'm not totally happy. Mike can't win here.

For now, I don't know that I can do much more than dwindle in between-land. The boys are here, they need to keep learning. I am here and I can facilitate that. But, then what do I do with Andy - will I be so burnt out that I can't teach him at home? I'm not big on sending him to a gub'ment skool. I don't know that we can afford private. Poor Andy. Stay tuned to learn his fate.

Anyway, I'm not feeling fun or funny lately and the blog is reflective of that. Sorry, folks. I'm sure I'll collect my thoughts and get it all together soon. Hang in there with me, please?

Happy Easter!

Meet "Jenny," Andy's new guinea pig. Really, she's Andy's. I just happened to get up early this morning (yes, you read right) so I could play with her and contemplate making cute little guinea pig clothing. That's not weird, right?

Andy woke up and put his foot down. He's playing with the pig and I'm banished to laundry and making eggs for us to dye this evening. I think Andy will be going to bed extra early tonight . . . A tutu for a guinea pig can't take long to make, can it? Maybe a set of bunny ears for her to wear tomorrow?

Ahhh potty training ...

I am the oldest child in my family. I think this is a tough position for a kid. Your parents are clueless (though you don't know this until you have your own kids) and are experimenting with you. And, when you, the oldest child grow up and have your own kids, you, too, find yourself clueless and playing the grown-up. We mangled our way through "sleeping through the night," "sharing with others," and the dreaded "potty training." We learned a lot and poor Dan bears the scars of the oldest child.

But . . . what about when that oldest child is 16-going-on-17? I don't know about you, but for me (and Mike) that was the age of some big screw-ups. (Sorry, Mom and Dad.) Danny is following in the family tradition. He's still a good kid and everyone's pets are safe. He's just stupid and acting his age. But, gah! Who knew it could be so hard and heartbreaking and exhausting? Certainly not me. If you're the praying sort, Dan could use some uplifitng. He's more tired and worn out than Mike and I are. And Mike and I are fried!

Who among you would relive your teenage years - the real years, not the good memories? (And, no, you can't go back to those years knowing what you know now! That's cheating!) You could NOT pay me enough to be 16-going-on-17 again. Dan will be fine. He'll be unhappy for a few good weeks, but he'll be fine, we'll be fine as a family. Now, we only have to live through this three more times! It'll be like potty training, right? Easier with each kid? (It's ok to lie here and tell me yes.)

The (not) Young and the Restless

I'm restless and sleepless and really antsy lately - and yes, I have taken to dressing exactly like this picture. This isn't new territory for me and I blame a lot of it on the time change because looking back over this blog, I can see I get this way every April. So, here we are.

Tonight, the laundry was done (well, you know, as done as it ever gets), the house was clean (see above) and I've had to wean myself from knitting past 11 pm. If I keep knitting, I will sit and watch The Duggars' tv show for hours on end. It's not pretty - the tv or the knitting. (Anyone in dire need of a purplish hat, let me know and it's yours if I ever finish!)

Soooo . . . tonight, after watching American Idol (he's weird, but I adore Adam!) and Fringe (not great, but the dad/scientist/crazy guy cracks me up - so does the cow), I found myself pacing. I happened upon my folder of printed out online recipes and decided to organize them and put them in my "photo album" of assorted recipes. Imagine my delight and joy when I opened the photo album book (which I started when the twins were infants) and the first piece of paper that fell out was the recipe for Oatmeal Cake with Peanut Butter Frosting.

Here, we call it Hurricane Cake because I first made it while we waited for a hurricane back in 1999 (shortly before Ian and Tim were told they were allergic to peanuts). I was pregnant with Andy and my friend, Julie, who was still imaginary at the time, gave me this recipe. We have had a small shrine to Julie in our backyard since that day. It weighs about 20 lbs and is not low fat, but it is sooooooooooooooo good. Now that we're free to explore the land-o-peanuts again, I have one in the oven. (Actually, now it's out of the oven!) It's not much to look at, but THIS is the cake that will win you friends and make you the envy of everyone - in a good way. It's that good. (If you have nut allergies in your family, it's pretty dang good with Sunflower Butter substituted for the peanut butter.)

This week is Spring Break for our county. Amazing how motivated the boys are to finish up their schoolwork when friends are waiting to play. Andy and I are working on a world map. Here is "Part One." We sketched the continents onto a board and Andy painted the big bodies of water blue. Tomorrow, we start with our salt dough, adding terrain to each part of the world. Andy's into it. He kind of flipped out when he painted over the Hawaiian Islands, the Philippines and Hong Kong so I imagine we'll be adding them to our map first. I love big, gooey, messy projects.
I know, I'm weird, but isn't that why you come here?

My tea is ready. I'm going to try a hot bath and sleeping again. Cross your fingers

For Aunt Lynne!

::::sigh:::: It's hard blogging with teens. Sometimes they're stoopid and as much as I would like opinions, they deserve their privacy. Let's just say we've worked it all out and established the order-of-stoopid and life is going to be not-so-much-fun in the coming months. I've been mad and stressed out and just ... you know ...

I just saw this video and had to share it. Mike and the boys liked it well enough. It made me all ferklempt. (Waving at Lynne) My sister and I knew every word on the Sound of Music album my parents had. We did not let our un-musical-ness stop our constant singing and dancing. I so wish I had been in Antwerp with my sister when they shot this video. How much fun!!!!!!

So proud!

It's been a long weekend. Lookie what Tim is up to. So proud.

Shiny Happy People ... not

We're dirty, filthy people if today's "cleaning o' the house" was any indication. Gah! 20 pounds of dog hair, buckets and buckets of sand, a couple of petrified bugs are what I normally expect when I clean the house. Today I got that and more!

Ian drew the "sweep the living room" straw. And, God Bless Him, he found THE sock. Look how happy and proud he is. He's not really. I was just so excited I made him pose for a picture. Then, when I tried to take the picture, the camera batteries were dead so I made him stand there for another five minutes while I found new batteries. Really, people, if any of you cared, you would send me a life. My children would be so happy.

While I was torturing Ian, I sent Andy out to clean up "Lego Central" on the porch. Periodically, I go out there and sort the stupid Legos into Ziploc bags. I don't know why. It's an exercise in futility. Andy's instructions were to clean up the Ziploc bags (ie toss them) and put the Legos anywhere but the floor.

While I was holding Ian hostage and making him pose with the nasty "computer sock", Andy appeared with a fistful of ziploc bags and a question. I don't remember the question but, it was something like, "What if my head was as big as our car?" There is no satisfactory answer to this question and after three older boys, I refuse to try and answer anymore. I just refuse - I'm old and tired. I'll pay for the therapy later.

I glanced at the bags in Andy's hand and started to tell him to go toss them - we're all about filling landfills here. And, then I looked again. Gah! We've killed one of our own. In one of the bags was a dehydrated, screaming frog. It appears the poor frog wandered onto the porch, crawled into the bag and couldn't find his way out. Mike called it survival of the fittest, but I feel terrible. Some poor frog family is missing its dad or brother or sister or something. We're sorry frog family.

But, the house is clean - well, as clean as it gets, anyway! I guess if we did this cleaning thing more often fewer frogs would perish?

Why buy your kid a car?

Now that I have a licensed teen driver in the house, I'm wondering why any parent would buy their teen a car. Seriously. I know I don't go anywhere. Dan knows I don't go anywhere. BUT . . . Dan knows I hold the keys. It's amazing how nice a kid can become when he really wants to use the car.

Tonight, Mike and I made a monster trip to Costco. We broke our "personal best" record of spending $1/minute. Tonight was about $1.25 per minute - inflation? Who knows? We DID get a little crazy - we bought the delicious, albeit expensive, Nathan's hotdogs.

We left for Costco right after dinner. As we left, we told the kids we'd be home in about 90 minutes. When we returned home, the kitchen was spotless. There was a gorgeous cinnamon quick bread on the counter and there were clothes tumbling happily in the drier. This was good. BUT ... THEN! the car unloaded itself. Helpful kids were everywhere. Mike and I were sore confused.

A couple of hours later, Mike safely tucked into bed, I learned that "they" (meaning those teenagers) want my car. They want my car ALL day on Saturday for a variety of reasons. As far as "they" are concerned I'm still thinking about it. I'm thinking at the very least I should be able to get them to mop the floors and clean the bathrooms. Muhahahaha.