The Second Day of Christmas

I happen to feel all holidays are rushed anymore.  Christmas displays in July, Easter in February, Halloween in May.  But I think my biggest pet peeve is who quickly the Christmas season is put away - trees set out for the garbage man, lights boxed up the day after, and Christmas music immediately eliminated once the 25th is complete.

In truth, the season of Christmas is 12 days in the church calendar, which is concluded by the Epiphany.  I always find it annoying the Christmas music is started the day after Halloween, but cutoff once the true Christmas season begins.  Growing up Lutheran, we celebrated the travels of the three kings/wise-men, bringing their gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh to the tiny Christ child.  Even though I am well aware Jesus was not born in winter and that most biblical scholars believe it took a year or more for the kings/wise-men to reach the baby, I still find the tradition of the Christmas season to be very spiritual in nature.

One of the most important traditions my husband and I started was the importance of presence and not presents on and around Christmas.  Our girls get one gift from Santa, and only one or two from us.  We do not encourage greedy gift requests (you know, the long LONG list that is rolled out once the child sits on Santa's lap), nor do I find piles and piles of gifts on Christmas morning to reflect the true meaning.  I am not suggesting I am above those that find enjoyment shopping and wrapping and giving; I am simply stating that I and my family have found greater love and meaning without all the stuff.

This year has been a difficult one - one with job issues, spiritual difficulty, and overall a real soul searching journey.  The most recent emotional and physical challenge has been the declining health of my grandpa and pal, Ray.  He was put into hospice on the 23rd of December and his placement there has actually been quite a gift to us.  Christmas Eve was very low-key and yesterday we had my parents over for a quite and meaningful Christmas dinner.  It was such a breath of fresh air and removed from the years of xanex and whiskey to help the day go along.

In the spirit of the next 11 days, my family will be attending Holiday Nights and Greenfield Village this evening, going to see the lights on Hines Drive tomorrow evening, continuing our Christmas celebrations on Saturday with the Martin clan, and then spending time gathering donations for the Purple Heart.

I'm not suggesting that my reading audience is unaware of the season of Christmas.  However, I want to empower everyone to try to spend time making memories that lengthen the presence of Christmas and not the presents.  God bless you all.

On the Other Side of the Fence

People show us what they wish to show us, no matter how close of a relationship.  What might seem like a perfect life, in fact, can definitely be less than perfect.  A beautiful rustic ranch in the hills, a nack for vintage decoration, and a smile to light a million candles hid a life that I never imagined to be true.

A sweet friend of mine, Jennifer, was murdered by her husband and found early Sunday morning after not coming into work.  Then her husband committed suicide after the murder, and I have read that he may have sat and contemplated his actions for a few hours before killing himself as well.  This amazingly unique and loving woman's life extinguished in a shotgun shell.  Her life was so boldly lived and so quickly ended.

I remember reconnecting with her on Facebook a few years ago.  She was so happy.  Her love of photography and animals transcended into a career with dogs and cats, and a Rockabilly lifestyle.  She spoke fondly of her husband, Matt, to whom she had met on Match.com.  They seemed to have it all - or so it seemed on the surface.

I was never in Jennifer's close circle of friends.  However, I had gone to high school with her and worked with her at the Eagle Tavern in Greenfield Village for a few years.  Our work relationship trickled into the rest of our lives as well.  Her exuberance for life was truly admirable.  A few years later I found out Jennifer moved to California with her then boyfriend, Bob.  I was so jealous of her sense of adventure and courage to make it in another state across the country.  When they broke up, I know Jennifer was very hurt; however, she persevered and reinvented herself in another state: Tennessee.

In the last year our friendship strengthened again, as I was tickled when she invited me to join her Facebook group, Rockabilly Is For Lovers.  I felt so privileged to have a deeper look into her fascinating lifestyle.  I was so jealous of her beautiful tattoos and her gorgeous pin-up pictures.  I also found myself sending her articles to Readers Digest and on one occasion sent her the entire magazine so she could read the article about two of her favorite Hollywood stars: Elvis and Ann-Margret.  What I viewed from this closer look at Jennifer was that she definitely became more beautiful inside and out as the years have passed.

Upon reading the news of her senseless death, I was immediately angry and disgusted that someone could kill such a beautiful creature.  In fact, I had hoped it was a cruel joke.  Two days later, I am still working on inner peace but will continue to be very heartbroken that a light so bright was extinguished so brutally.  However, I am forever grateful to have known such a unique and compassionate person.  

Gone Are the Days of the Mixtapes

On Sunday, the Ladybird and I were on a return trip from Ann Arbor.  Ladybird, for those who do not know, is my "new" 1996 Pontiac Bonneville.  She is full of the latest bells and whistles, but only those offered in 1996.  One of those features is a lovely stereo and tape deck.  As the radio played I found myself reminiscing about the days of the mixtapes.

I vividly remember sitting at my stereo, which had a turn table and a double tape deck, waiting for my favorite song to play.  Quite often the song would be truncated by some obnoxious DJ, but I would tape it anyway.  I also remember making my first mixtape....

In high school I had this huge crush on an upper class man named Jessie.  Jessie's brother, Johnny, was dating my sister and we were lab partners in Chemistry.  I found out that he loved The Beatles, and I decided to make a mixtape for a birthday gift.  I took records from my mom's collection, and listened to all the songs over again and again.  I carefully selected the songs to be used, and then spent countless hours making the recordings seamless.

I was so proud to hand the tape over to Jessie.  Of course he was kind enough, and he didn't make fun of me to my face, but I know that his friends were laughing as I walked away.  He told me it was a really cool gift, but we never were more than acquaintances and lab partners.

Years later I was driving in my sister's car and the Beatles were playing in her tape deck.  The songs sounded VERY familiar.  I would know exactly what song would follow.  So I asked her where she got the tape and she told me she got it from Johnny years before.  Apparently many people who were friends of Jessie's and Johnny's had a copy of the mixtape I made, which in a strange way made me feel pretty awesome.

In college I dated a guy, named Marshall, who made me a mixtape (AND he wrote me a song too).  He told me each song on the tape was selected especially for me.  That he had spent a lot of time creating the best song list for how he felt about me.  I actually loved many of the songs on the tape, and played it over and over and over again.  I also felt very special that someone took the time to select a special song list for me.  Awhile later we broke up, but I still enjoyed listening to some of the songs on the tape.  Not because it reminded me of him, but because some of the songs were pretty great.

Marshall and I hung out in the same group, and one night we were all out at the karaoke bar that we frequented.  Marshall's current girlfriend was telling some of the group about this awesome mixtape she had been given.  That the songs were created especially for her.  I figured making a mixtape was just something Marshall did, that is until she began to name the songs on the tape.  I asked if I could see the tape cover and she said okay.  The two of us went out to the parking lot and shared our tape covers with each other.  And you know what?  The tapes were exactly the same.  Nothing was different.  Each song Marshall carefully selected for me, was in fact the same ones he selected for her.

We sat in silence for a few moments, and then we began laughing hysterically.  Because from that point forward neither of us would be persuaded by a mixtape ever again.

But I have to wonder what teens do today to share music with each other.  Do they make MP3 lists?  Or do they make videos of them listening to music and post to Youtube?  Whatever the case might be, technology has definitely changed the way we listen to music, and thus how we share it as well.  I must say that I kind of miss the days of mixtapes decorated in stickers, the hopeful hearts and the time spent carefully crafting the perfect song list.  But I suppose that is what happens as one ages...nostalgia kicks in.

In Lieu of A Monthly Wrap Up

Over the last few months I have come to realize our home is not just a haven for us, but a haven to many.  I am pleased that our home is full of love, and that all creatures feel comfortable here.  There are moments when I am enjoying a cup of hot coffee and I look around to find cats are meowing happily, kids playing and singing with joy, and... okay, lets be real - it is a complete fantasy.

However, our home seems to be the place everyone and everything wants to be.  Not a day goes by when I haven't bandaged up a child's boo-boo, placed an ice pack on a bump, settled a dispute, chased a ball across our busy street, chased a dog around the backyard to give back a toy, made an extra pb and j for a hungry mouth, said, "no," to a child begging for another sweet.  But sometimes this joyful chaos feels like my mantra should be:

And there are times I think, "God, why on Earth did I commit to homeschooling my children and continuing with my teaching business?"  And then I hear a giggle, a "thank you, Mommy" or "thank you Miss Michelle," and I think, "Yes, I can do this...I can provide the loving environment that my girls and other children (and critters) need."

I find balance in the chaos by reassuring moments that remind me why I wanted to be a teacher and mother. Those moments are not always there - believe me I'm not perfect nor are my children - but they are the essential ingredients in my life as a Mother and Teacher.

August Wrap-Up

August proved to be a very relaxing month.  My surgery was not as successful as I had hoped.  I am still leaking.  The doctor told me it was from the surgery, but I am thinking it is also urine.  I go to the doctors on Friday, so hopefully at that point I will have more information.

Now for the standard wrap-up:

Goal #1: Read all seven Harry Potter books on my new Nexus 7 tablet. Read as much as possible.

I read two enjoyable books: Mennonite in a Little Black Dress and The Wednesday Sisters.  I also received all our curriculum and made certain what was required of me.  I was also very privileged to win a free ticket to a week-long homeschool webinar.  It was super informative, and I loved having the opportunity to connect with people, and get energized to teach this year.

Goal #2: Reclaim my body - mentally, physically, and emotionally.

I have started to walk distances again, and it does help my moods.  As for losing the weight...ugh...lets not go there.

Goal #3: Give more.

Our financial donation was to The Henry Ford.  However, during the month my girls and I donated towels to the animal shelter and they raised money with their friends for St. Jude.  I am currently chairing up a mini mission at our old church (which is our current church too) for the Ronald McDonald House Charities.  I never found a replacement church, and I need to be with people who are open to whom they accept (i.e. everyone).  I am not comfortable in a church that picks and chooses scripture to support their views.  I also feel women need to have an opportunity to pastor, not simply pushed to the side.

And another month begins....

Having the Confidence to Homeschool

I think one of the greatest hurdles I had to get over was the concern I would not be able to adequately teach my Ladybugs.  Granted I teach piano and voice, I do have some pedagogy classes under my belt, I've taught in a classroom setting, and I was always a very bright student.  However, it is difficult to transfer that into successful teaching of my own daughters.  

We are very lucky, because in Michigan there are not the same restrictions with homeschooling as there are in other states.  If you are interested in which states require what you can click here: HSLDA

I began to consider if I was any less intelligent or educated than those with degrees in teaching.  And I realized that even though I never took education classes at a college, or special pedagogy classes, or classes designed to help organize and manage a classroom, I have been teaching for over 20 years.  I have taught Kindermusik, group piano, theory, choir, music at a K thru 8 school, private piano, and vocal training.  Plus I have been the music director for multiple shows, and an accompanist for many different situations.  I have a lot of teaching experience.  Maybe I have not taught reading, or history, or astronomy, but I have taught my children about our world, and how to take care of themselves and others.  I have taught them many MANY things in their little lives, so why not add a few traditionally school taught subjects as well?

The other thing is education doesn't make a person better at their job.  I have had some really HORRIBLE teachers in my past, as I have blogged about before: CLICK HERE

The point is: I can do this.  And I am confident this is the right choice for my Ladybugs.

The Netflix Binge

Santa Clause gave our family a new Blue Ray player for Christmas, and thus we got Netflix to join in the fun.  At first Jim and I watched old Twilight Zone episodes, and had fun introducing the Ladybugs to Jem and old Spiderman episodes.  Then Jim and I enjoyed the newest season of Arrested Development, and also journeyed through seasons of Breaking Bad.  However, upon the completion of Orange is the New Black, I have found myself obsessed with Parks and Recreation.

I will admit that season one was fair if not poor in its execution, however, by season two Parks and Rec found its rhythm.  Each night we watch four episodes, give or take, and I cannot get enough of the characters.  I feel as if they are part of my world and we are all friends.  I have become a binge television viewer.

 
Binge watching seasons of television shows makes me wonder if I would be as obsessed by the series if I had to wait a week for a new episode.  Take Lost for example, I think my brain appreciated the week between episodes.  I was able to discern through the information presented, and determine what I thought was the real story.  Lost gave such fantastic cliffhangers that if I binge watched the show I may have not been as satisfied with the plot.  However, I have to state that the finale was really horrible and in no way how the series should have ended.  Breaking Bad is similar to the intensity of Lost, with its plot twists and turns and the deep character development.  After a couple of nights of watching episodes, I am compelled to watch a documentary or two.

In the same vein, I truly believe that my obsession with Parks and Rec would not be near as so if I had to wait a week between episodes.  Instant gratification is something I'm not used to, but something I am getting very comfortable with.

   

When we gave up our cable television a couple weeks ago, I was afraid that I would miss it.  Truth is, I don't.  Probably due to the fact I am currently obsessed with Parks and Rec.  However, it is so convenient and inexpensive to watch through an antenna and through a service like Netflix, I cannot imagine ever needing cable again.  

I remember the summer we got cable installed at our home.  I was eight, and my sister and I spent countless hours watching and rewatching Grease 2.  At the time, I had no idea what was being suggested in "Lets Do It For Our Country," nor did I find it repulsive that a person would have to change his identity to impress the cool girl.  I also remember watching The Incredible Shrinking Woman that same summer, as well as shows about circus acts from the 1800s.  I have been trying for years to find a youtube video of Lavinia Warren, General Tom Thumbs wife, singing "Beautiful Dreamer," but I have never been able to find that song Kelly and I remember from the show.  

That was when cable was new and exciting, and possibly fifty stations (maybe).  There was no recording, there was no pausing to go to the bathroom, and there was no rewinding to see a scene again.  I remember nine years ago when I was pregnant with Zoe, I was encouraged to get a DVR.  The DVR really did change the way I watched television, but I must say Netflix has revolutionized how a watch a television series.  No longer do I need to purchase the entire season on DVD, nor do I have to set the DVR to tape a particular show.  I simply search for the title and start the viewing process.

I wonder how many people binge watch like me.  Maybe this has been going on for years, and I am just now jumping on the bandwagon.  But, believe me, I cannot imagine watching TV any other way.

The Past Meets the Present

Today the Ladybugs and I have exactly two weeks of summer vacation left, and I am slowly coming to terms with starting a new school year.  In fact, I start teaching piano and voice next Tuesday, which means I only really have a week left of lazy summertime.

I have made some changes in the design of my homeschooling space - moved furniture, altered the placement of the existing furniture, and have begun to wrap my brain around a full week of homeschooling. I was even lucky to look through our curriculum, and set up a high level schedule for the school year.

Zoe and Evie's Kindergarten teacher came to visit us today.  She brought all over Evie's papers and such from the end of the school year.  I had contacted her through email and phone back in March, but I now realize that she wasn't avoiding me but just trying to save her own job, and/or finding a new one.  The school situation was heartbreaking for everyone involved, including her.  This woman, whom shall be called Barb, has always been a fantastic supporter of mine.  In fact, she was pleased to announce she will be teaching homeschool art in her new home art studio.  I'm really excited for her - and us (even though we already signed up for a fall art class, there is always future possibilities).

As much as I enjoyed our brief visit, I started having panic attacks last week as I remembered the hell my family experienced at school last year.

It has now been almost five months since I pulled the Ladybugs and quit my part-time job as music instructor at their private Christian school.  Some felt I left as a result of the blog post from February 25th: Not My Kid, in which I described the bullying that was taking place at the school.  Some parents sent beautifully written letters and note cards about how they will miss me and my family.  But most have never spoken to me, and have physically avoided me in grocery stores and other public places.  However, the sad part is that even after I was bullied by parents and my Zoe was bullied by students, I was bullied by the administration of the school.  I was not certain how other teachers felt, but I was pleased to have the opportunity to talk to Barb.
 
Barb suffered a lot of heartache herself, as she had been at the school for a very long time.  She was the matriarch of the school, and she also taught art classes.  The Kindergarten thru 8th grade classrooms have been replaced by a larger preschool, but Barb was overlooked for the job.  She definitely deserved the opportunity, but the administration was as narrow-minded as always.  They had their chosen few to run the program, and Barb did not fit their plans.  From previous conversations with the preschool teacher, I knew she didn't think Barb taught enough in her Kindergarten classrooms.  In fact, I'm not certain the preschool teacher even liked children, let alone parents.  The preschool matter was a difference of opinion, but I know that the school closed because of the group of people who wanted to expand the preschool and, thus make money for their already wealthy church.

The past is a chapter that I am happy to close, but I'm not sure why I always feel so horrible ending relationships with people.  Maybe it is that I hate to have people end relationships with me.  Regardless what is the reason for my feelings of remorse, I am going to acknowledge them and continue to move forward.

Here are two pictures of my homeschool area:

To My Grandma

Earlier this year I wrote a story for my Grandpa Brown's 90th Birthday.  Click here to read: The Knights of Bedford Street.

The book of stories from family and friends was a success.  Therefore, in May, my family did another book for my Grandma Brown, who was turning 85.  I never put my story on this blog, and since it is a good recollection of my past I would post it today.  Enjoy!

If God had intended us to follow recipes,

He wouldn't have given us grandmothers.

~Linda Henley

My family memories are sprinkled with a dash of Texas Sheetcake, a pinch of Deviled Eggs and a splash of Spaghetti Salad.  My Grandma Brown knew how to throw a party, and still does to this day.  She loves a reason to bring her family together, and what better way than to dangle yummy food in front of them while you are at it?

When I was little, I would often ask to help bake cookies, or cut vegetables for dinner.  My mother would lose patience quickly, because I had this habit of not listening to her directions.  Throughout the years, many tears were had in that kitchen of ours.  However, I was lucky to have two grandmothers who allowed me to express myself in the kitchen, even if I wasn’t completely paying attention.

My very favorite memory in the kitchen with my Grandma Brown was when my sister, Kelly, and I learned the fine craft of bread making.  I remember that we made the bread from scratch – no box mix for Grandma Brown.  She also mixed everything by hand, which was extremely exhausting.  We had to stir one way so many times, and then the other way the same amount of times.  And it seemed to go on FOREVER!  I remember getting flour over everything (especially ourselves), and I also remember learning how to kneed the dough the proper way.  I have been lucky to share the proper dough kneed with my husband, Jim, and my Ladybugs, Zoe and Eva.  There was a lot of laughter while we kneeded the dough, and waited for it to rise.  I was so happy to be allowed to have a true hands-on experience. 

Of course (I’m sure it is no surprise) we were not quick or efficiant in our doughy masterpiece.  I do not recall the temperature of the oven, what container we baked our bread in, what we ate for dinner that evening, nor can I tell you how the bread tasted.  However, the memory of that experience has remained in my heart all these years later. 

Happy Birthday to the quintessential grandmother: my Grandma Brown!

A snip-it from Through Her Eyes

There were three odd jobs my mom always requested of my sister and me: 1) watch for KMart or Sears commercials for a particular photo package, 2) keep an eye out for The Fuller Brush Man, and 3) look for Wandering Jehovah’s Witnesses.  My mom had us watch for commercials from Sears or KMart photo studios, and I still have the package memorized: 1 8x10, 2 5x7s, and 16 wallets.  Usually twice each year there were sales on that package, and the commercials often came during the breaks on PBS.  I remember Amyre Makupson talking about the upcoming 12 o’clock WKBD news, and then we were blessed with a commercial for the desired picture package.  It was always a fight between my sister and I to whom reached my mother first.  Quite often my mom would not have seen the commercial and thus she would not have the phone number necessary to make the appointment.  After awhile I would memorize the phone number as well, so that I could tell my mom where to call.  I truly loved commercials. Sometimes ask me to recite the Lee Press-On Nail commercial from the 1980s.  

My mother also loved having a visit from The Fuller Brush Man, as he always had new room fresheners, or special brushes, and sometimes she would sharpen her knives.  He was a novelty to my sister and I, because he pushed a cart down the block calling, “Fuller Brush Man!”  The only other service that made us known of their presence was the Ice Cream Man, however, in that case it was a rowdy rendition of “Pop Goes the Weasel.”  However, none was as mysterious as the wandering duos of Bible-carrying Jehovah’s Witnesses.  Even though they weren't selling pretty brushes, nor taking our picture, these people were fascinating just the same.

July Wrap-Up

This month was one of making decisions.  I made the decision to get the pelvic floor surgery, and I decided to homeschool the Ladybugs this fall.  This is a huge decision for me, as I am hoping I can handle it.  I also started writing my memoir about my time with Bonnie.  It is a memoir of love and friendship, and I have tentatively titled it, "My Faith Through Her Eyes."

Now for the updates"

Goal #1: Read all seven Harry Potter books on my new Nexus 7 tablet. Read as much as possible.

I spent the majority of my free time writing the memoir.  I read a few memoirs, preparing for my writing. I was also consumed with researching homeschool curriculum.  

Goal #2: Reclaim my body - mentally, physically, and emotionally.

As I mentioned above, I got the pelvic floor surgery.  Unfortunately I don't feel as if the leaking has decreased, and I am very depressed about my body and how it works.  I have an appointment tomorrow to speak with the doctor, and I hope things can be explained then.  Losing sight of hope.

Goal #3: Give more.

The donation for July (and August) was to The Henry Ford, which includes the Henry Ford Museum and Greenfield Village.  The Village is a sanctuary for me; that is, when there isn't a special weekend or event happening.  I am calmed by the simplicity in the living and inventions that made life easier.  It is a lovely place to visit, even a few hours, and the donation provides our family with free visits all year long.  

This year has been one of upheaval, but we continue to forge ahead into the unknown future.

Memories of Bonnie

After some encouragement, I have decided to write a memoir of my journey with Bonnie.  The tentative title is "My Faith Through Her Eyes."

I have been writing, as opposed to blogging.  Here is the current prologue:

Prologue

“They’re here, girls,” I heard my mother whisper emphatically as she quickly pulled the drapes closed.  Her white nightgown glided behind as she ran to secure the drapes closed.  As usual, my sister and I were watching cartoons and ignored her plea.  “Come on, girls, hurry it up,” my mother scolded as she shut off the television.  The sound of panic in her voice assured us she meant business.

“Don’t say a word, not even a whisper,” my mother said, as she motioned for us to join her on the floor.  We immediately fell to the floor, crawled beside my mother, and laid next to her hiding ourselves behind the front door.  I tried to peek through the sliver of light shining through the drapes, but my mother immediately covered my eyes with her hands and pulled me closer.  “Stay perfectly still,” she softly reiterated.  The three of us, concealed by an afghan my sister had grabbed off the couch, could have been mistaken for a pile of laundry left on the living room floor.  

There was a knock at the door, and fear pricked every nerve in my body.  I turned rigidly to look at my sister, and noticed streaks of tears running down her face.  This really wasn’t any different from any other day; my sister was always crying or complaining about something.  My mother had said they were here.  It was our turn.  We were next.

I said a silent prayer.  I prayed that they would leave us alone, and that we could return to as we were before.  But there was another knock, and another - much louder this time.  I tried to breathe without making a sound.  What if I gave us away?  I held my sister’s hand, closed my eyes tightly, and hoped the knocking would stop.  

My sister began to squirm under the midsummer heat of the afghan.  I began kicking away my sister’s feet, and a sound, barely audible exited with my exhale.  My mother’s eyes were round as saucers, as she held her finger over her mouth.  She knew we were being as good as two little girls could be in this circumstance.  We were on summer vacation, and kids are supposed to be laughing and having fun.  Now we were trying to evade them.

We stayed together that way for what seemed like an eternity, but what was most likely two minutes.  The knocking ceased, and my mother slowly crawled to the window and gently pulled back the curtain.  She sat down and took a deep breath, “They’ve gone girls.”  We all smiled and did a collective sigh of relief.  They had gone.  The Jehovah’s Witnesses had left us a magazine in our mailbox, which assured us freedom for another month.

If 38 is Midlife, I Need To Retire

This morning I read an article called, "This is 38"; if you are interested in reading it (since I am referring to it) click here: THIS IS 38

I am looking forward to 40, probably for only one reason: I will be traveling to Wales to spend time with my best friend, Dana.  However, I can unfortunately state that I do feel older this year.  I can also emphatically state I am much happier with 38 than I was with 18, but maybe not as physically happy as I was at 28.

No matter where you are in life, there is always moments where you take a breath and realize you are in a completely different place than you anticipated years before.

I had no intentions of every having children 12 years ago when I met my husband, Jim.  I was newly out of a disappointing marriage, I was focusing on grad school, and I had my own place.  I was happy; I was independent.  If I was able to travel back in time and talk to that 26 year-old, I would probably slap her in the face and say - WAKE UP!  But what good would that do?  Especially considering she would need to experience the loss of her dear grandma, the change of careers, falling in love, having two beautiful daughters, and making a home from a fixer-upper.  But to think this is the middle?  I completely disagree.

I have been very fortunate to have three of my grandparents live a very long time, and one live almost just as long.  My father's parents are 85 and 90, and my mother's father will turn 95 next month.  I sincerely believe in the power of genes, therefore, 38 is not middle age (maybe 45 is...but then again my grandparents are still aging).

Not my mother, nor my children.  However, you get the point.

When I think of living in "the middle" I think of my amazing mother. She takes care of her elderly father, who refuses to leave his home, and she watches my sister's special needs daughter at least once a week.  I do not think I'm in the middle of this life, but still diligently peddling up the hill.  I appreciate the point of Lindsey Mead in her above article.  We all hit the "middle" at different points, but I do believe we should no longer believe 40 is over the hill or in the middle of our story.

I am looking forward to writing new chapters to my story, one that will probably amaze me looking back 20 years from now.  Where will the road on the other side of the hill lead?  That is the excitement that keeps life exciting and unpredictable; and truthfully what writes a great story.  Let the future begin!

June Wrap-Up

This month has been a busy and quick one, if nothing else.  The Ladybugs are working Little House in the Big Woods curriculum from The Prairie Primer.  I was lucky enough to find a gently used book on ebay, but the curriculum is worth more.  So far we have made butter, a corncob doll, and worked on a lap book that was illustrated here: marinecorpsnomads.com 

I also got a new (vintage) vehicle.  Her name is Lady Bird, and she is a 1996 Pontiac Bonneville with only 27,000 miles.  My Grandpa, Ray, is no longer able to drive (pretty good run for a almost 95 year-old), and he passed along his gem to me.  After a charge to the air conditioner, the only thing that needs to be fixed is the tape deck.  I think an aftermarket CD player would be an easy addition to Lady Bird.

I could probably go on about our family, but it is now time for the monthly wrap up.

Goal #1: Read all seven Harry Potter books on my new Nexus 7 tablet. Read as much as possible.

I had a very good month when it came to reading.  I read two books that I could not help but recommend - "The Divergent" and "The Insurgent" by Veronica Roth.  I also read a very heartwarming book, "The House at Riverton" by Kate Morton.  I have also been deeply engaged in "The Well Trained Mind," which is pictured below:

Goal #2: Reclaim my body - mentally, physically, and emotionally.

I have found a new product for my face - Simple Skin Care  It is so gentle, that I have only been using witch hazel and the cocoa face mask on occasion.  I have also found a new tool that I must say is so cool, I cannot believe I never owned it let alone heard of it before this month.  It is called a pore extractor, and by God it is the coolest tool EVER!

This is the exact one I bought, from Target, for under $10.

I have also started using this new foot cream that has given me hope I will no longer need monthly pedicures to remove the hard crust from my heels.  It has been about a week and a half, but my feet aren't nearly as crusty as they usually are.  The product is called Epoch Sole Solution.

Tuesday is supposed to be my 6th and final visit for Pelvic Floor Therapy, however, I will be calling tomorrow to schedule a surgery consultation instead.  Unfortunately the therapy is just not working, which has caused daily depression for me.  Logically I realize that I'm fine, but it is really difficult emotionally to deal with peeing myself many time daily.  The depression is also affecting my decision to continue homeschooling. I don't want to do wrong by my Ladybugs, but my heart says to continue with the homeschooling.

Goal #3: Give more.

I gave $100 to our local NPR radio station - WDET.  I do not listen to biased radio or television news programs, nor do I listen to current music stations.  I love the programming, and I really enjoy keeping abreast of local and national news, without a political spin to it.  I also spent time cleaning out our back storage area (we have two areas under our front porch that serve as storage for us), and we donated A LOT of clothing, household goods, and other items to Purple Heart, 10 years worth of electronic devices to Wayne Country, and puppy pee pads (Maggie hasn't need them in a long time) to the Dearborn Animal Shelter.  The Ladybugs have decided to sell lemonade this summer to collect money to give to animals in need, which makes my heart smile. My Eviebug even said to me, "Mommy, does giving make you happy?" And I said, "Yes, it does!"  Eviebug replied, "Me too!"

A Case For Not Attending My 20th Reunion

As some of you know, I was bullied quite badly when I was younger.  Even though time heals the wounds inflicted emotionally by others, it isn't a time I have simply forgotten.  By the time I was in high school I had established a group of friends who were more like me than when I was younger.  The bullying continued, but I was preoccupied with my interests to let it bother me.

Fast forward 20 years, and what do you have?  A class reunion.  I never saw myself attending another reunion after the completely uncomfortable five-year.  So I won't surprise any reader by stating the obvious: I am not going to attend the reunion dinner nor the family event the day after.

I have been reorganizing the Martin home, and I found Jim's yearbook.  Even though he graduated from a different high school, in a different city, a year before me, the people seemed to be just the same.  It was almost uncanny the similarities in people.  It was amazing how two separate situation could produce the same groups, cliques, etc.

I thought I would be a bit more specific to why I am not going to attend the reunion festivities.

Here are my reasons:

1. Social Networking
Facebook has completely eliminated the need to wonder what "insert name here" looks like or if "insert name here" ever went bald, grew fat, and/or changed.  With a very simple search, I can voyeuristically answer any question I have clinging to a balloon in my mind.  I can be in control to what others see, who can search for me, and catch up with old friends.  But what used to be reason to see classmates at a reunion (curiosity, unresolved issues, etc.) can be easily achieved by social networking.

2. People Never Change
I am not referring to those individuals who quit smoking, or decide to try a new hairstyle.  But it is naive and oftentimes heartbreaking to believe people can change their immature behaviors.  Popular then?  Still popular now with the same crowd of people.  To prove my point, we have a Facebook page commemorating the reunion.  Initially we had people posting pictures of high school stuff.  I am in one - from my dear friend, Jahna.  But in every other photo (over 100) I am in none.  Why?  Because I was not part of the parties, the get-togethers, the dates.  I was part of another group of friends, most of which left before me (see below).

Now there is information regarding the venue, price, etc. on the Facebook page.  Since then people are posting when they send in their checks.  Currently "Team Football" is winning.  Is this a surprise?

3. Friends Come and Go
I was quite close to the students who graduated a year before me.  When they graduated, I made friendships with underclassmen.  I had such difficulties trusting people in my class (from years of bullying), that I found peace with individuals who were younger or older.  I have a few close friends who I have had since high school: Dana, Jahna, and Joe from my class, and Rachel from a year after.  I also have remained in contact with other friends, but I have not lost contact with anyone I hold dear.

For me, high school was a season of my life; one of which is nicely packaged in a black and white box.  I am perfectly happy keeping the box wrapped and move forward in my life.

I Dreamt of My House Again...

....but this time it was different.

This time I was able to make the negative energy leave, and I was finally able to enter the attic without panic.  It was as if I finally got to the place I have been hoping to visit all this time.  

Maybe I should start from the beginning.  

Since I can remember, I have had dreams about a house.  Sometimes I am driving to find the house, sometimes I am walking to find it, and other times I am in one of its many rooms.  For awhile I was able to bring different people into the dream with me; almost as if I was lucid dreaming.  I often find myself traveling through the rooms and saw the Gothic decorating scheme.  However, it didn't matter if I climbed the red velvet staircases or if I took the elevator to the top level, each time I was met with adversity. 

Sometimes the adversity was ghosts, sometimes it was me waking up, and sometimes I spent too much time in other rooms to care about the attic. Quite often I am driving to locate the home; and I can see it's exterior before I awake.  In the dream I am very familiar with this home, and I have come to the conclusion I have lived there in another life.

However, the other night I dreamt of my house again, but this time I was able to fight the negative energy and make it up to the attic.  I made peace with those whose paintings hung on the walls, and I was able to view the land outside the gabled window.  The crazy thing is at the end of the dream I flew out the window over the land and looked backwards at my home.  I was at total peace, but also kind of bummed because I could have rather hung out in the house.

I looked up an analysis for these reoccurring dreams.  Here is what it says about dreams of an attic:

Attic
To see an attic in your dream represents hidden memories or repressed thoughts that is being revealed. It also symbolizes your mind, spirituality, and your connection to the higher Self. Alternatively, it signifies difficulties in your life that may hinder you from attaining your goals and aspirations. However, after a long period of struggle, you will overcome these difficulties.

To see a cluttered attic in your dream, is a sign to organize your mind and thoughts. Perhaps, you need to rid yourself of the past and let go of the past emotions that are holding you back.

Here is other applicable analyses:

House (General)

To see a house in your dream represents your own soul and self. Specific rooms in the house indicate a specific aspect of your psyche. In general, the attic represents your intellect, the basement represents the unconscious, etc. If the house is empty, then it indicates feelings of insecurity. If the house is shifting, then it suggests that you are going through some personal changes and changing your belief system. To dream that a house has no walls, represents a lack of privacy. You feel that everyone is looking over your shoulder or up in your business.

To dream that water is rising up in your house, suggests that you are becoming overwhelmed by your emotions.
Window
To see a window in your dream signifies bright hopes, vast possibilities and insight. If the window of a house is dark, then it indicates a loss to your perception or vitality.

To dream that you are looking out the window signifies your outlook on life, your consciousness and your point of view. It also refers to your intuition and awareness. You may be reflecting on a decision. Or you need to go out into the larger world and experience life. If you are looking in the window, then it indicates that you are doing some soul searching and looking within yourself. It is time for some introspection. To see another face in the window in your dream suggests that you are feeling emotionally distant and physically detached. Also consider the emotion depicted on the face.

Let Me Take a Moment

...to fill in the last couple of weeks

Therapy

Yesterday was my fourth visit to pelvic floor therapy.  I have seen improvements, maybe around 20%.  However, it is enough to continue therapy for another week.  I was seriously hoping it would be enough, but thought the improvement was supposed to be significant (i.e. 50% or better). So now I simply up the exercise repetitions, and cross my fingers for the future.

Our Backyard

Maggie LOVES to dig, and our backyard was a perfect canvas for her desire.  We have a very large tree in our backyard, which makes growing plants, veggies, and other foliage almost impossible.  There was a lot of dirt that became mud often.  Especially one day when my yard looked like Woodstock.  The Ladybugs and Maggie were covered head-to-toe in mud, after five minutes of playing with squirt guns.  Something had to change, so Jim and I began brainstorming for a solution.

Interestingly enough, the one thing that seemed to thrive in the shade was an ugly bush.  I truly hated this bush, mostly because when I was doing dishes the girls would hide behind it and I would have to stop what I was doing and call for them.  Plus it was simply ugly.

Jim and I decided to put rocks on both sides of the back door, to see if Maggie would stop digging.  Thankfully it worked.  So we thought we'd continue the rocks in the bush area.  Which meant - NO MORE BUSH!  WOOT!  Here are the results:

A Craft For Fun

A while back I read an article that showed great projects for old sheet music.  My father acquired a TON of old sheet music after his uncle passed, so I took time yesterday to sort through the piles and piles and piles.  I found nice sheets and today I made a wreath from the music.  I am super proud of the project.  I just LOVE it!

It was such a simple project, and the Ladybugs made their own music crafts.  So fun, especially on a day they felt ill.

Happy Wednesday everyone!

Tuesdays with Kelly

*Please note that below is graphic in nature, and may not be suited for all readers.*

I found myself, again, staring at the pock-marked ceiling tile while the bright florescent lights toyed with the idea of blinding me.  Bad country music plays in the background, as I lie, half-naked, underneath a rough paper blanket.  I am doing my best to remove myself from the torture which is about to be performed.

After last week's treatment, multiple daily exercises, and no improvement I find myself wondering why I have returned for more.  But I suppose there is a glimmer of hope for a full recovery of the pelvic floor muscles.  I have been told that there is a 75% success rate with therapy only, so I need to be thinking the glass is 3/4 full rather than 1/4 empty.

Kelly, my technician for two weeks now, enters the room and smiles.  She has been very kind during therapy, and I thanked her for this a week ago.  She says, "Well, are you ready?"  And I'm thinking, "HELL NO!" But say, "sure," instead.  Then she inserts a probe into my anus.  Yes, I said probe.

*Note to reader: I tried to find a picture of the exact probe (size and shape), 

however, this is pretty close* 

Then, while the anal probe is still inside, she inserts a vaginal probe.  

*Note to reader: Again, I was not able to find the picture, 

but imagine a cross between this an a dumb bell*

Kelly gently sticks a monitor on my abs, which is to determine if I am doing the exercises correctly.  Then the countdown begins...and kegels begin.  Yes, while I feel about ready to burst, I have to do five five-second kegels which are monitored on the computer attached to the probes.  

Once the kegels are completed, the ab monitor and anal probe are removed.  Now the vaginal probe is "turned up" using the computer.  I am to let Kelly know when I cannot handle anymore - which might sound erotic, but it is the furthest thing from it.     

After about 15 minutes of pulsing and beating my insides, the process is over.  For another week that is.

I am hopeful, but as I get off the table I realize how sore today's procedure has left me.  In some ways I can definitely see that this would be a reason to avoid going to the doctor over leakage.  But, alas, I will give it a go another week.

Everyday is a Learning Opportunity

After reading many Facebook posts about school letting out for summer, I thought I would share my feelings regarding the subject.

Most educators anticipate and celebrate the upcoming summer months.  I completely understand the desire and necessity to rejuvenate, revitalize, and relax so that one can be a better teacher in the fall.  This is the first year I am actually NOT teaching this summer.  I have offered summer lessons for the past 20 summers (doesn't seem possible, but alas it is true), but felt that my family needed my undivided energy and focus this year.

So I imagine most will find what I write next as a complete contradiction to above.

An Arbitrary Date
I have always felt sorry for teachers when the end of the school year approaches.  National and state benchmarks are needed to be met, but 99% of the time books and curriculum are never finished.  A few of the items are sent home with families on the last day of school (everything but the books that can be reused in the fall), but teachers never assume all students complete the materials during the summer months.  In fact, I know that only a fraction of my private students will practice daily over the summer break, let alone practice at all.

We all know the last week (or weeks) of school are flooded by picnics, field trips, and other fun activities that put traditional curriculum on the back burner.  During the school year, teachers must comply by the requirements put in place by those in charge and therefore, not able to complete everything.  There is also a mindset with children (and their parents) that it is okay to "turn it off" in the summertime.  After all, children are force-fed so much information that a break is definitely needed.  In many cases children are taught to do schoolwork like it is a race, rather than at their own pace which only leads to partial learning.

I can remember the countless tests I studied for and memorized the important dates, definitions, and information, just to simply forget it the day after the test.  Garbage In/Garbage Out I would say.  And I still use this analogy with my students today.  I am not teaching children to learn a song so they can play it/sing it for the recital.  I am teaching students to become musicians - to truly understand what they are learning, so they can one day not need me anymore.

And isn't it interesting that one school ends on one date and another school ends on another date?  I know it has to do with days in school, per government regulations, and how many days are not taught during the "school year".  However, I think the "last day of school" is only an arbitrary date on the calendar.  I have been very aware of this mindset, so I have done my best to engage the Ladybugs in learning activities throughout the summer months.  However, if one homeschools there never has to be a break from the daily grind, the testing, and the ridiculous benchmarks made by people who no longer have a pulse on the changing education dynamics, because there isn't any of that.  There is simply learning.

So What Does This Really Mean?
I believe that learning shouldn't simply happen between 8am and 3pm, Monday thru Friday, September (or end of August) thru the beginning of June (or end of May).  What if school was all year and the students and teachers had breaks throughout the school year?  Like a week here and two weeks there.  And more breaks throughout the day, rather than one recess at lunchtime.  I remember getting three recesses when I was in school, and having an hour for lunch.  Now there is barely enough time to scarf down a lunch and run off steam to be gathered back into the classroom.  And people wonder why we have so many kids with attention problems.

Therefore, rather than the proverbial summer slide, students would move at a steady pace and truly learn about the subject(s).  Students could move into curriculum and objectives when they were ready, rather than when someone sitting in an office thinks it is time.  We could return to a time when school was taught to learn and not to determine who was the smartest or the best.  School used to be a privilege when the public school system was created; now in many cases school is a prison.

I have to agree that with the amount of "stuff" given to students for 9 months of the year, they do need time off to recuperate.  But what is the answer?  I do not have the answer, just ideas that float around in my head.  I do know that with my Ladybugs they each learn differently and at different paces.  Some material is taught and the light bulb goes on quickly, and in other cases the light bulb needs more time to glow.  They also have completely different interests and it is obvious when we are working on daily tasks.

The one thing I've learned this year is that no one situation works for everyone.  Homeschool is not for everyone, just like private nor public is made for everyone.  The bigger issue is that so many people judge others for the decisions they make for their families, rather than embracing that we all must make decisions based on what is right for our own family.

This reminds me of a quote attributed to Einstein (there is much speculation regarding the origins):

“Everybody is a genius. But if you judge a fish by its ability to climb a tree, it will live its whole life believing that it is stupid.”

May Wrap-Up

Ah, yes, the time has come again for me to review what I have accomplished this month.  I must say that May has breezed by, quite possibly because we have been very busy with Birthdays, concerts, field trips, and learning together each day.

Okay...now for those silly goals I set on January 1st:

Goal #1: Read all seven Harry Potter books on my new Nexus 7 tablet.
This goal is not any farther along, as I decided I do not like the Harry Potter books.  I tried, I gave it a really good effort...but the books did not appeal to me.  I would say I must be an oddball, because it seems everyone loves those books.  However, just like most everything else in my life - I'm unique.  So this goal is closed.  I am okay with this goal never being complete.

However, I did read a great book called "The Wilder Life" by Wendy McClure.  It is a story about her quest to find where Laura Ingalls Wilder grew up and the "Laura World" from her childhood.  I love Little House, so this was a perfect book for me.  My Ladybugs also enjoy the Little House series, so much so we are going to do a Unit Study with the book The Prairie Primer.  

Goal #2: Reclaim my body - mentally, physically, and emotionally.
If you are interested in reading about my physical stuff of late, you can scroll through the last few blog posts.  I have started Pelvic Floor Therapy, and in one word it is: different.  It isn't bad, but honestly I really don't want to have surgery, so I'm hoping it works.  Mentally and emotionally I am doing well.  I feel very confident that our decision to remove the girls from their school was the right choice - emotionally as well as academically.  Even though we are waiting to hear on the boarder exemption, I am completely comfortable with my abilities to school the Ladybugs for as long as needed.  This is not a place I thought I would be, but here I am!

Goal #3: Give more.
I gave $100 to Friends for the Dearborn Animal Shelter this month.  I had a friend who walked with her two dogs in the annual FDAS Mutt Strutt.  Being able to give to this charity allows animals to be treated and cared for properly.  As for giving back...the girls and I have been collecting clothing and other household items to donate.  We have been so busy with commitments this month, we have not had the time to give time to others.  I am hoping that the summer months prove to be more flexible with time and our ability to give it freely.

So What About the Ladybugs?

As we round out our eighth week of homeschooling, I am happy to report the blessings are immeasurable.

Many ladybug blessings...

I must admit that it took awhile to get things where they worked for us, but I have learned to leave my "schedule" behind, and ROLL with it.  Our basic day is as follows:

Morning Work:

Handwriting

Math

Grammar & Phonics

Read Aloud/Language Arts

Afternoon Work:

Silent Reading/Finish Morning Work

Social Studies

Science

Originally I had a different schedule, but I changed things a couple times to make it work for us.  One of the biggest changes is the time schedule for things.  Now I just have us complete morning work before lunch and do afternoon work after lunch.

As you can see I am not currently doing Spelling words.  I find that spelling is involved in book reports, questions for language arts, social studies reports, and science reports.  So spending time copying words and taking a weekly test just doesn't seem prudent for us at this time.  

I have also been asked if Eviebug does what Zoebug does.  The answer is, yes!  She prints, while Zoebug works on cursive writing, she has her own Math while Zoebug does Math, they both have Grammar/Phonics workbooks, and they both work on Science and Social Studies as well.  The one area I separate them is Language Arts.  Eviebug listens while Zoebug reads her story of the day.  Then Zoebug writes answers to the daily story while Eviebug reads aloud to me.  

I have also noticed that taking many breaks throughout the day helps the Labybugs stay focused on their work.  These breaks do not include watching TV or playing a video game.  Rather they are playing with Maggie outside.  

We also play many educational games.  Our current favorite is Quirkle.  

I have also enjoyed teachable moments - unscheduled opportunities to teach and be taught.  I look at these as being on the same vein as what some call, "unschooling".  It is a way to have child-directed learning.  However, for our purposes I am only having these interests determine our science and/or social studies work.  

For instance, every spring we have a mom and dad robin who make a nest using our gutters: Robins  We talked about how every year they come back to have babies. And then we watched this great video:

CLICK HERE!

Are You Teaching Them Enough?

I also have been asked what curriculum I use.  I have had the great pleasure of having a retired elementary school teacher as a mom, and I also have collected "stuff" throughout the many years I have been teaching.  Therefore, I use a hodge-podge of curriculum at this point, but if we continue in the fall I will use a more focused curriculum series (maybe).

Here is what I use for each subject:

Morning Work:

Handwriting

• Originally we were continuing Handwriting Without Tears with Zoebug (she was working on this in her classroom), however, after WAY TOO MANY TEARS (I know, right?), I switched to Zander-Bloser Handwriting.  Eviebug prints words from her read aloud books.  I have her print them 3 times each.  

Math

• Originally I had Eviebug in a book I got Zoebug from Target 3 years ago.  However, she finished it last week.  Now both girls are in Evan-Moor Skill Sharpeners.  Zoebug is in a 3rd grade book and Eviebug in a 1st grade book.

Grammar & Phonics

• Zoebug was given Grammar worksheets from school, so we've continued a unit of those per week at her speed (3 or 4 pages per day).  Eviebug was using that Target book, but this week Eviebug started a new book, Word Skills Fun from The Mailbox Books for K-1.  

Read Aloud/Language Arts

• Zoebug has been using a series of books from my mother's years as a teacher.  The series is for 2nd and 3rd grade and is from the D.C. Heath and Company.  Eviebug is currently reading first readers from Margaret Hillert.  We have been enjoying watching Eviebug grow at reading, considering before homeschooling she was reading one and two word stories.  

Afternoon Work:

Silent Reading/Finish Morning Work

• Zoebug reads chapter books for book reports which she does upon completion.  She read a few Magic Treehouse books, then switched to The Bailey School Kids series.  She likes mystery/detective books a lot (her past favorite was Nate the Great).  Evie reads picture books (looks at pictures somewhat) to herself.  

Social Studies

Science

• In both cases the girls have been taught subjects that they find fascinating.  We have learned about Thomas Edison, Robert Frost, crystals, rocks, and robins.  It is so much fun learning as we go.

The Future

I have been asked by many what our plans are for schooling in the fall.  Zoebug was accepted at our school of choice (School L).  Unfortunately, Eviebug was not.  The 1st grade for the fall at School L does not have the space the 3rd grade does.  So now we have applied for a boundary extension for Eviebug.  When will we hear?  August.  Yeah, August.  If Eviebug does NOT get the boundary extension, we have decided to continue homeschooling in the fall.  There is nothing wrong with our neighborhood school (School N), but I feel homeschooling would be the better choice for us.  If Eviebug in fact does get approved for the boundary extension, we will have to cross that bridge at that time.

I have many friends who are looking forward for school to be done this spring - in order to spend more time with their babes.  I also know many who are excited there is no more "homework" during the summer months.  However, we are not going to stop learning this summer.  We will be doing curriculum from the Prairie Primer.  In fact, we are all looking forward to learning more about the time Laura Ingalls lived.  One of my problems with traditional schooling is the mindset that summer is when you no longer learn.  I really feel it is sad to teach our children that reading, writing, math, and other skills are only important between September and June.  I believe it is my job as a mom to cultivate their desire to ask questions, and want to learn more from our world.