The reasons we do...

Everyone thinks her child is beautiful. Everyone.
I realize this, and here I am about to wallow in it.

My baby just turned three. He is very likely my last child, despite the last few months' surcease of my "I am so done!" ranting. With his physical demands on my body easing, with his behaviour turning from maniacal toddler to a child of my recognizable tribe, my heart has tempered its resolution to never bear another child. This is not to say I ever will. But at least now I wouldn't cry. A lot.

~I digress.~

I was looking for pictures of the very, very fine sweater and came across many of D-baby as a baby. Before the maniacal toddler-- the child we called "Perfect." This particular set always makes me smile because I remember it so clearly. As the third child in a pretty close family, D-baby never belonged wholly to me like the other two did. I never was able to spend a lot of non-nursing, non-diapering time with him, just he and I. I had other children to attend, and he had siblings who doted on him. The older children, as small as they were, really did participate in caring for this little guy. Who knows what his worldview is, having that intense belonging? I can't even begin to imagine.

Anyway, on this one day when he was about 15 months old, he and I got to take a walk together. That's it. It wasn't all that long, and we only went around the neighborhood, but on this day he and I were able to go together, alone, and I brought my camera. He's such an infant in these pictures, clearly still "toddling," and the vibrant colors of the Spring here just accentuate how tiny and young he really is. I love them.

I love him.



And then, I had to release him back to the family.

Montessori and Dyslexia: The Einstein Effect

A post of mine here really resonated with a dear friend of mine, exciting her. Her reaction to the specifics of the Montessori method were so affirming for me. It seems so clear to me, how wonderful it can be to just take another view on education, but when other people get excited about my excitement, well who doesn't cherish that? My own struggles with ADD and the comorbid dyslexia were really very mild, because in my specific case, the school environment was actually good for me due to a variety of factors in my home and school life. Chief among those school factors was a very early diagnosis of "giftedness," and a removal at least once a week from the traditional classroom. From my earliest years in public school, I was sorted out and given a different way to do things-- because I was gifted.

Because I was gifted.

This is important to note: even as a child of eleven years of age, I realized that the way they were approaching my education was so cool, so interesting, that every student would benefit from it. They gave it to us, as a prize for being "smart" when we came to them. How much more does the child who needs that different approach benefit from the extra time and consideration? To this day I can rattle off the names of people I saw fail out of school, one way or another, who really had it in them to do so much better. No one gave them the option to learn things in a way appropriate to them. They were just counseled to do better, to try harder, to "really listen." Maybe Montessori isn't for everyone; I can accept that. But in my experience, it sure works for most. It's not so much that Montessori caters to individuals who learn differently, it's that the method allows for so many different individual approaches to learning. It's that subtle, child-centric distinction coupled with tactile materials that makes it so effective.

I did some quick research tonight while I was thinking about this in general, and came across the following (clickable) snippets.

From Myomancy:

The modern classroom with its tightly controlled and scheduled syllabus is not a good environment for dyslexic children. Any children who falls behind the learning curve is in deep trouble as they have no opportunity to catch up. The classroom is like a production line than forces children to move on to the next class whether they are ready or not. However the Montessori classroom isn’t like that.

Devised in the early 1900’s by Dr Montessori, it is an approach to education that is child centric, focusing on individually-paced learning and development. The Montessori Method should suit a dyslexic child better. Allowing child and teacher to spend time on their basic literacy regardless of the rest of the class’s ability level. As the Montessori method also does away with traditional grading of students there should be less issues about confidence and self-worth. In fact, Montessori and dyslexia should be perfect together.

Another way that Montessori and dyslexia go together is the teaching materials used. Montessori has always used a multi-sensory approach to teaching involving wooden letters to handle and sandpaper letters that children trace out with their figures for a strong tactile feedback. Lots of the Montessori teaching uses physical objects for teaching basic number skills. Making learning movement based, rather than purely paper-and-pencil, increases the opportunities for hand / eye coordination and cross lateral movement.

From Montessori Life:

Dyslexia is caused by anatomical differences in the brain. If an appropriate preschool program is offered to this child and reading, writing, and spelling are introduced through a Multisensory Structured Language (MSL) approach, the learning difference does not become a learning disability. This neurological difference cannot be cured but it can be treated, so that the child can have functional written language skills.

This article goes on in the specifics but I loved this line: the learning difference does not become a learning disability. That's Montessori for you: Difference does not equal disability.

Furthering that idea, there is a school in Florida whose mission is to educate dyslexic children using the Montessori method. This is my favorite snippet to share here, because it also discusses Albert Einstein. I love me some Einstein. He was brilliant, but was also ADHD and dyslexic. From the website for Einstein Montessori School:
"Zach Osbrach founded this school to better educate children with reading and spelling delays. Our dyslexic students have achieved the highest reading gains among their peers in the state of Florida. Our extensive testing has shown a 285% increase in reading gains." Their FAQ on dyslexia and its life prognosis is fairly extensive. Yet it is their page on Einstein, and why they started the school they did, with which I will end this post:

Einstein showed language impairments at a very young age. His speech was severely delayed. He only began to talk at the age of three, and had trouble with language throughout elementary school.

During a parent meeting, the Headmaster told Einstein's parents that he did not have the ability to be a successful professional. He recommended that Einstein attend a trade school. In fact, his teachers thought he was borderline retarded.

Young Albert did not listen to them. Instead, he moved to a different type of school. This school de-emphasized rote memorization. Unlike his old school, they stressed creative thinking and hands-on learning. Young Albert's academic performance improved dramatically.

Einstein suffered from dyslexia. He is a clear example of a person who would be labeled as learning disabled in today's educational system. With the right approach to education, these labels cannot prevent great accomplishments, as proven by Einstein and others.

Children with learning disabilities have one or more processing or learning weaknesses. At Einstein Montessori School, we would rather not use the term "learning disabled," because many of our great thinkers had dyslexia--geniuses and statesman like Alexander Graham Bell, Thomas Edison, Leonardo de Vinci, George Washington, Thomas Jefferson, Winston Churchill, Walt Disney and so many others. Most of us do not think of these men as having been "disabled."

This is Community

There is this sweater, you see. It is a soft sea-green, cable-knit hoodie with a subtle periwinkle-blue trim on the cuffs and waist. It is a quality brand name, it zips up the front and it has lasted through both G and N. We've had it so long, I couldn't even remember where or how we got it, but I do know N has gotten more use out of it than G. While I knew I hadn't bought it from a store, because generally that's not how we do things, I thought I got it from a consignment somewhere. Maybe a clearance sale. Never mind that, it's a fine, fine sweater.



The thing is, now that it is D-boy sized, he doesn't want it. It's not his color, he says. This is the boy who now insists his name be said correctly (no nicknames), that his clothes be spotless (water spots are no exception, off they come) and that his boots be by the door without fail when he comes in. So when he says he won't wear this sweater, he oh so very much means it.

But I love the sweater. It's a fine, fine sweater. It's in great shape and needs to be worn. So I put it in the closet and saved it for Nikirj's Bitty Princess. I fretted a bit, because it's not pink or lavendar. It has no sequins or ruffles, no lace or glitter. I worry that instead of being loved, it will be scorned for the second time. Finally, I decide the sweater must be given. It can't be boxed or donated. It must be presented.

For lunch on Wednesday this week, we traveled to the C-family abode. The sweater came with us, and as we made our greetings, I said to Bitty Princess, "I have a present for you! A princess sweater!" Hype, hype, I must hype the fine, fine sweater. Any reaction I might have gauged from Bitty Princess was lost as her mother began to chuckle.

"Oh cool!" She said simply, "Becca's sweater came back. That's such a good sweater, isn't it?"

Blink Blink. Blink Blink.

"We got it from YOU????" I bellowed.

"What, you didn't remember that?"

My embarassment morphed into glee as I cavorted about, happy that the sweater made it's way back home, full circle. Quite by accident, of course, as I really forgot it ever came from there. (Still. I am ashamed. No recollection.) I love stuff like this.

And so, this is community. Child number five (maybe) in the fine, fine sweater. It's making its rounds as the years pass among us, and it's taken on a symbolism; it's now imbued with the warmth of friendship, of filial love for other people's children. We want them to be warm, we want them to be loved. We want them to be in possession of fine, fine sweaters.

Math Manipulatives

The more I work with math and my children, the more I "get" why manipulatives work as well as they do. G just added 4332 and 2464 without even having the slightest idea when she sat down that she could do that. She sort of resisted at first, because although I presented the place value stampers as a game, she saw bigantous numbers and knew I was up to mischief. I am sure me telling her she was going to tell me the sum of those numbers didn't help, but I was going for the shock value of her success. Well, mischief managed. She swiftly took over the stamping and told me the sum. Then she smiled.

I've read about children in Montessori environments doing advanced calculations swiftly and accurately, but I never really understood how that works-- they're just beads-- until I began to show my own kids how it works. It's a little unnerving to go into the unknown, but so satisfying when it works. And oh, how it works! I've not wanted to make / purchase the beads because I have felt that storing them in a home situation would be too unwieldy. Today, working with stamps of a similar design, I changed my mind. This was fabulous, and fast.

I didn't spend a lot of time with manipulatives when I was a child, and math became a source of extreme difficulty for me. If you miss one small kernel of understanding, you lose the option of understanding most of what comes after. It makes me happy to see my kids not only just soak it up, but hold "math" in a sort of cavalier regard.

Edited to add links for BBB:
Base Mathematic Lesson Plans (this is not what I used for this post, we were working with a Montessori three-part lesson)

You can purchase stamps here

but one of my favorite math / science equipment purveyors is here.

I did a quick google search and found this for you, to better explain how we began what we were doing. We have the actual bead materials shown in her initial photograph, but instead of the beads described for the lesson, we were using the stampers. The current lesson, which is related today, is based on this presentation.

Lots of things to blog about

But blogging is just not happening until this wave of tummy-crankiness passes.

(and aside, I look forward to being a grup again, someone who would never utter, much less publish, the words "tummy crankiness")

OK-- one thing will make it in. We've gotten about half the school room re-installed. Actually, that's less than accurate, because I have a great many new materials the children haven't seen yet. Yesterday, P-daddy took the doppelgangers out while ~N~ and I stayed home with our weak constitutions. We used that time to great advantage, really enjoying being together. He and I worked together in the school room for at least an hour, with me introducing some cool Montessori math stuff, among other things. (I love it when 5 year olds truly understand the quantity of, say, 4322. It trips me out.)

I don't know what happened while they were gone, or whether D-person just misses me from being laid out all week, but he came home to be a very affectionate tyke. He let me carry him about and just squeezed me really hard before explaining to me that "You my teeeeech-ah. You my teeeech-ah, Mommy!"

So, I have lost eleven pounds this week and had our daughter explain to us out of the blue that the sun glows bright because hydrogen is converted into helium. My P-daddy has taken exquisite care of his infirm family without reverting to testiness. We spent the evening yesterday rolling about in the living room as a family, laughing. It's been a balanced, pleasant week.

We rang in the New Year with a stomach bug

Initially we thought it was D-boy (sniff sniff no longer D-baby) having drunk too much salinated pool water at the Y, but 48 hours later, ~N~ wiped out. After staying up until 3.30 am to help him, I had to go to sleep. An hour after P-daddy switched off with me, I started going. At least the flu itself is FAST-- literally 24 hours-- but I am weak and sore today. Now, we wait for ~G~ and P-daddy to fall. Hopefully they won't, but I sure wasn't expecting what I got, either. My brilliant daughter has followed my instructions and is hydrating herself to the nth just in case.

I will choose to celebrate this as a New year's purge. We're quite literally shedding the old, and opening ourselves to the new. And I got to lose all my holiday overindulgence along the way.

Attack of the Birthday Boy

He's THREE!

Attack of the children

I have too many cute pictures so they get an entry of their own.

Impromptu Birthday Party

Where the C-family comes down with balloons and whoopee cushions while I scramble to make a cake and hors d'oeuvre and P-daddy steals the boy away for us to shout "Surprise."

And Dougie is surprised....

And shorn....

And so happy!

Our First White Christmas!

It snowed on Christmas Day here. While P-daddy though it was nice, the rest of us were enthralled. It's such a huge cultural thing here in the states to "dream of a white Christmas." Coming from the South, well, needless to say it has never happened for the children and me. The kids and I enjoyed it immensely, and girlie even built a Christmas snowman with her Daddy by scraping all the snow out of the yard.

Merry Christmas to All!

and may your cookies be tastier than ours......

Happy Solstice

We enjoyed a wonderful celebration with our friends.

Nothing went as planned, pretty much....nothing! The cookies didn't turn out, the food didn't all arrive at the same time, and it rained alllll day so we didn't do the tree for the animals.

BUT we had fun! Much laughter, and love.

But we did have 14 children opening Christmas gifts at one time. That was impressive. And then we sang Happy Birthday to and shared cake with the Solstice child, who turned three that day.

This is us prepping, earlier that day:

Literacy is Good....and Funny

~G~ has really been feeling her oats lately with writing. She writes us notes all the time, knowing how much we love to read them. We get many of them at bedtime, asking us to sleep with her, or to let her stay up, etc etc. That's what I thought this one was going to be.

P-daddy had installed the new shelves in the school room and ~G~ was helping em put the supplies back up. We'd gone along at a steady clip when I realized it was way past her bedtime, and I sent her on, telling her I knew how tired SHE was because I was about to drop myself. We had a solstice gathering the next day and I knew we'd all be exhausted; she needed to sleep.

About ten minutes after I sent her to bed, in comes this note, careening to the floor:

I want to be with you. You'll never make it without me.

I burst out laughing, and told her "You know, you're right. But we're both still going to bed."

What happened to Romulus?

Romulus is our 15 year old mini poodle. Last night ~G~ couldn't go to sleep at all. I brought her back out to the living room and we watched Chronicles of Narnia and made a nest. After the movie, we left the Christmas lights on and she slept on the floor in a sleeping bag and I slept on the couch.

About 12.30, Romulus started screaming. I don't know if you've ever heard a dog scream but it is not pretty. I went in there to him and thought maybe his hair was caught in his grate. He likes to sleep in a little travel carry case, so I took it apart. His hair hadn't been caught, and he was listless, unmoving at this point. He could look at me with his eyes and he was still breathing, but he could not control his body. His nose stayed cold and wet, but he had lost his bowels. I wouldn't have heard him unless I was sleeping on the couch.

I got P-daddy because I wasn't sure whether he was dying or not. We cleaned him up and P-daddy went back to bed while I bundled the dog in towels and held him on the couch for an hour or so. He would intermittently shake, like he was seizing, but began to regain control one limb at a time. I kept talking to him, telling him it was okay, stroking his head. It was weird to watch. Finally, he went to sleep and I put him on the floor between me and ~G~. He woke me up twice, lapping water out of the Christmas tree stand.

By this morning he appears normal (for him anyway) but I am completely wiped. The last time I saw the clock it was 2.40am. The kids had been sleeping in until 9, but today we have the joy of all being awake at 7.40 am. I may have to carb load today.

What happened to my dog?

Warming up for the Solstice

Yesterday we had a very calm day planned- I was potentially meeting up with the C-family while we ran a joyful Christmas errand, but then we were going to work on hanging shelves in the school room so as to get the boxes OFF THE FLOOR. I want them up for the kids, but hey yeah, the Solstice is coming and it would be more hospitable to not have people box-diving.

So my life is a sit-com and it didn't work out that way. But we had fun anyway. We ended up with the C-family here, with another friend of ours and her two boys joining us later. She'd thought the Solstice pot luck was yesterday instead of the coming Saturday, so she'd worked her butt off on her fabulous dish and had called to apologize for being late. "Late? What?"

So we said "Hey! Let's have a party anyway!"

And so we did.

I love Yuletime.

I am such a nerd

Seymour Salmon Day

The fabulous marine science classroom, complete with touch tanks.
This is about 1/5 of the class, which was one of two groups we homeschoolers were split into today. We are privileged to know a lot of homeschoolers.

Marine animals, with a little Northwest Rat tossed in.

Yes we are amusing. You may laugh at us now.

We hiked to a tidal creek where we were privileged to watch Chum Salmon spawning. Our little monkeys, imminently comfortable in the woods, took to the tree for a better look. Imagine their surprise when our Naturalist asked them to climb down!

On our way home, we stopped by Minter Creek because we knew the salmon were also running there. They were thick and still in the water, and you could clearly watch them spawn and then wander about after they were done, just waiting for the cycle to be over. (Do click-- it's impressive, even this late in the season.)

Lil Bit of Baking

I am really looking forward to Christmas being over.

I am not sick of Christmas decor or music, not stressed out by the gifts (much) but I can feel SAD creeping in. Unlike last year, I am not without electricity or warmth, and this year I have last year's depression episode to warn me. I am seeing the crankiness and carb-loading for what it is. I will win. It doesn't make much sense to me anyway, because I LIKE the changes in the seasons. I LIKE the dark, and I know it's transitory. But my body, whoo boy, my body doesn't like it. The spectrum light bulbs really do help, but they don't fix it.

But anyway, I associate Christmas with the Solstice, and I will love it love it love it when the days begin to lengthen again.

Today my pasty white children and I baked pumpkin bread and roasted pumpkin seeds. They actually ate their healthy dinner of sauteed chicken and wild rice pilaf. I suppose having pumpkin bread considered as a vegetable side dish will help speed matters along there.

~G~ drew out an artistic design for her big blank wall in her room. I think it's fabulous, and if we can pull it off, she'll have a rockin accent wall. I am definitely going to support her in this endeavor.

Speaking of ~G~, massive trauma today. Her surviving crab is hanging out of his shell. I hear Monty Python as I type this, regrettably, but I do have to note he's not dead yet. So he's either dying or he's molting. In the spirit of optimism, we returned him to his dark coconut shell house and shored him up with food and water. She got two crabs from Santa last year, and she has really taken very good care of them. One passed this summer,and she buried it under a rose bush. It would be most unfortunate to lose Flower so close to his birthday. She's planned a party for him, complete with wrapped gifts tucked under the tree. She made him a stocking out of felt and and has it hanging alongside ours. I feel terrible for her, really do.

Here is where I blog about our first gingerbread house

~G~ especially loved the marzipan characters.

Look at the window. This is one o'clock in the afternoon, and it is not raining.

Hands Hands Hands

Our little architect

The Bluest Eyes....

Doulapunk gave me the head's up that the kit at Trader Joe's is clean this year, (thank you!) so we used that one. It's a little kit but it was perfect for our first venture.

The problem is that the children have every intention of consuming the entire endeavor. Amongst themselves, quite amiably, they have decided who gets what part and every few hours or so go sit and stare longingly at it, admiring it's every detail.

I am not sure exactly what I thought would happen when we built a house made of cookies, but here's where we are!

Do you eat your gingerbread houses?

What do Hobbits read for Christmas?

Hearth-and-home day

The Christmas tree is sparkling, the fire is going in the hearth and I have pumpkins roasting in the oven.

We've spent the week enjoying both the season and the break from some of our classes.

We enjoyed Santa's early visit to our neighborhood, where he gave the kids candy canes and took G's letter. We've made cookies, and we decorated the house inside last Thursday, before meeting some friends for playtime at the human habitrail. Unfortunately, despite my repeated admonitions otherwise, G kissed her crab beneath the mistletoe and spent a day and a half puking from the couch. She rallied from that in time to go find a tree at a neighborhood tree farm, where me met this really awesome woman. I won't bore anyone with all of their commonalities to our family, but let's just we were saddened to see the big giant for-sale sign in their yard.

I went out alone to enjoy that evening with a woman's night out at a friend's house. She had real food, real wine, real coffee and we had a gift exchange. It was almost jarring to just be ~L~ for a while, and to use my beadwork. I even regifted the ball-warmer purse I have been holding on to for two years. I stayed out until after midnight, which is freakishly unusual for me. That definitely supports the idea that I need that! Much fun! Yet it didn't stop! The very next day G had a party for a friend of hers at the Y. It was so exciting for G to have a girls-only event, and the little girl actually liked G's present, so I was happy too. It could have gone either way, as G made a felt doll out of Popsicle sticks! (One of her gifts for Christmas is going to be a huge supply of her bendy dolls materials, because she's completely out.)

Today I had planned as an inside-laundry-let's be quiet-and-recuperate-day. Alas I am out of oatmeal and dishtabs. I am tired of a week of handwashing our dishes. Spoiled ~L~ is taking on Costco after the pumpkins are done.

More Babyness....

We have a new niece!

Brynn Noell was born on the first day of Hanukkah.


This is number three for Mom and Dad, our very dear friends. Dad said to P-daddy "OK, the ball's in your court now, and I hope you guys stop the game!" He also mentioned a trip to TN, for the 2-for-1 vasectomy deal. This is the kind of weirdness you can expect when you have that many children between you!

Three years ago today,

we became Washington State residents.

It's hard for me to understand, but it's true. Sometimes I can't believe it has been that long, and sometimes I think "only three years?"

~N~ thinks he was born here and has no recollection of the "place" of SC, only the feelings and the people. ~G~ remembers, but things are fading; she told me this morning she can't really remember what a proper sandy beach looks like. ~D~ was not yet born--barely--when we flew into SeaTac at 6.30 that evening. It is incomprehensible for someone born and raised in a wholly Southern family, as I was, to have my children not know our city like they know their mother.

Time keeps on rolling for us all, and some friends from our past stay fresh and constant while others have faded into their own lives. We still love them and miss them all. We had family-friends in Charleston. I still think this was such a horrible time of the year to move away from family, to try to sell a house. Yet, I am wholly grateful we didn't have to deliver ~D~ unassisted, as we had planned. All blessings come with a balance, I think. We would be hard pressed to imagine our lives without our newfound friends in it, and were we to pack it all in and go back East to a culture we (adults) understand, we'd have a whole other group of people we'd sorely miss.

I do not pretend now, sitting here, that I have any idea where this family will be in another three years. I do intend for us to be as much a unit as we are now, together and thriving. Beyond that, I dare not hope for more.

Memories: http://mama-hobbit.blogspot.com/2004/12/and-fast-forward.html

Gingerbread House Help please

Every year I want to make a gingerbread house with the kids. Every year I don't because the kits are all contaminated for our allergies, (peanuts, walnuts and pecans) and I can't find an easy to understand recipe to make the walls myself.

Can you help me with information?

First of December: Snow Falling on Cedars

Yesterday was an idyllic day to begin our winter months. We enjoyed a leisurely pancake breakfast, and then the snow began to fall. The kids pulled out their snowbibs, snowboots, hats and gloves, and went catching the gigantic, wet flakes with their tongues.

P-daddy started a fire and we set out on a short walk. It was too warm to accumulate much where we live, so close to the sound, but the snow was falling fast enough to coat the trees and houses with a beautiful white mantle. After talking to some neighbors, we decided to head over to Kitsap to see what it looks like over there. Just a few miles away from the water, everything was whiter and colder, including the roads. Even though we were driving slow, the van didn't stop for the turn into Horseshoe lake when I tried to brake. At 32 degrees, enough had melted on the roads to make it slushy and icy, so back home we went. It was completely worth it though-- the kids and the parents alike just loved driving through "winter wonderland," as ~N~ called it. The farms especially called to the boys, with their expanses of white, while the trees are what held my eye. I love snow days for their inversion of light-- the whole world seems brighter.

When we returned from that short trip, the family made a snowman and had a snowball fight while I went in to make a pot of hot chocolate. With warm tummies and hearts, we made our way down to the tree lighting in the harbor. Three years we have been here, and this is the first time we remembered it on time! Not snowing anymore, it was just a freezing rain accompanying the festivities. It didn't dampen many people's spirits though; they had free cider and hot chocolate, and there were elves handing out Santa hats and glow sticks to all the kids. We got to meet a live Reindeer, and strolled the docks where the boatowners had a light display of their own going on. ~G~ made sure we had front row spot when Santa finally arrived and we counted down the tree. We were right there when the lights came on, and I have to admit I think my eyes didn't appreciate that.

By the time we arrived home at 6.30, all our snow had melted. I told P-daddy I was so glad this had been a Saturday. With the exception of our little snowman, there would be absolutely no evidence of the beautiful day we'd had, and I was glad he'd been right there with us. What an incredible first of December!

As I write this, the ground is again covered in a new dusting of snow, and it's falling again, though somewhat slushy. A little voice woke me up this morning, "Mom, hey, it's snowing........"

I had a very clear dream last night

In which I delivered an unassisted footling breech on the back porch in a windstorm.

It was another precip labor, where I had only realized that "this is IT" minutes before. Frustrated that dh wasn't listening to me about it (proof of a dream state-- dh is all over any labor alarm and would never behave that way), and doubting myself too much to call the midwife, I went outside to take a breather. As the wind whipped up, I moved from the yard up to the first step on the porch, cold in a sleeveless shift. I had a nasty contraction, one of those that comes from your thighs, through your back and straight into electrifying your cervix. That's when I felt the baby in the birth canal; out popped one foot, then another.

In the dream, I remember my rapidly cycling emotions, moving from panic to resolve to fear to determination. I remembered reading (during planning my UC-that-didn't-happen with ~N~) about how to deliver in a footling breech situation on Laura Shanley's site, and I tried to adopt the proper posture. I couldn't decide whether to continue climbing the stairs to get some help from my husband, and noticed the neighbor's gigantic bull mastiff crossing from their yard into ours. Smelling the birth situation, he was coming to investigate, and I didn't want him anywhere near me or the helpless, dangling child.

I remember thinking even if she didn't suffocate, she had to be FREEZING, hanging there in the cold wind. By the time the dog got to me, she was free. I reached over to smack him away, and that effort jerked me enough to push her out the rest of the way.

I scooped her up, tucked her into my bodice and rushed through the house (which was not my real house on the interior, but my Grandmother's) to my bedroom, placenta still inside. I clawed my way under the covers and kangarood the baby, layering both of us with too many blankets. She was looking at me with a quizzical "what? what just happened?" expression when my dh came into the room for the shock of his life.


What

the heck

was that about????????

Ah yes-- A Carol for Our Community

Twas the Night Before Solstice
By Kristie Burns
www.thedreamangels.com


'Twas the night before Solstice and all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even our pet mouse

Knitted wool stockings were hung with care
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there

The children were tucked in organic cotton sheets,
The air filter blocking pollution from the streets.

While mama stayed up to make handmade gifts
I co-slept with the kids and watched auras shift.

When out in the herb garden arose such a clatter
I sprung out of our futon to see what was the matter!

Away to the solar panels I flew like a flash.
They took me hours to install, I hoped they hadn't crashed.

The crystals we'd laid out to absorb the moonlight
Sparkled like fairydust and blocked my sight.

When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh without any reindeer.

At that moment I knew that the little old man
Had received my last letter so bold and so grand

Could you stop using reindeer? Last year I wrote him,
And enclosed with the note a PETA pin.

As he neared the house in his all-wooden sleigh
I noticed it was powered by wheatgrass and hay.

Ostheimer! Kinderkram! Stockmar! Fair Trade!
Don't bother landing if the toys aren't handmade!

"Hey Arriana," I called to my wife with chagrin,
"With that body mass do you think he's vegetarian?"

She paused only a moment from her crafting and said,
"One moment dear! I'm shaping this gol-darn Waldorf doll's head!"

On our roof I strained to hear the ole boy
But I'd recently insulated it with soy.

So I drew in my hand and was turning around,
When in through the front door came St. Nick with a bound.

The Advent wreath had caught in his hair
As I said, "Why in the world did you enter from THERE?"

The soot in your chimney contains poisons galore.
You should consider the environment more.

But he was dressed in fur from his head to his foot
So I said, "Look whose talking about my soot!"

A bundle of felt he had flung on his back.
"I hope you like handiwork," he said with a laugh.

His eyes - how they twinkled! His dimples were treats!
His cheeks reminded me of when I dye silk with beets.

He must be of the choleric type I mused.
It's a good thing with lavender the stockings I infused.

With his fur boots he slipped on the bamboo wood floor.
I offered him Arnica and then closed the front door.

After all that I'd paid to the energy company this year
I didn't want one bit of that cold air in here.

He had a broad face and a little round belly
I asked him, "Have you seen your naturopath lately?"

He was so chubby and plump I worried for his health
But I laughed when I saw him in spite of myself.

He spoke not a word, but went straight to task,
Needle-felting dragons and weaving a mask.

He knitted a pure cotton sweater and two pairs of mittens,
Then picked up a knife and carved 2 wood kittens.

He finger-knitted an entire nativity scene.
With the most amazing skill I'd ever seen!

When he sprang from his seat on the floor and arose
I yelled, "Arianna - watch - there he goes!"

With the unfinished doll she was struggling to sew,
Arriana went to watch him out the window.

And I heard him exclaim as he drove out of sight!
"Arriana, my dear, the stiches are too tight!"

Happy Thanksgiving Day!

We had two other families over and the children all ate like racehorses. P-daddy had a bonfire in the back yard and let them look at the craters on the moon through his telescope. It definitely felt like family, and was easily one of my favorite Thanksgivings.

The gravy is the end of it

A pretty, sunny day for friends

A simple setting for a casual Thanksgiving


We didn't plan a kids table, but we ended up with a Mommy's table. Oh, darn.

This what happens when you interrupt feasting children to ask them to say "Happy Thanksgiving!" They had me laughing so hard the pictures are hopeless.

OMG My house smells so good

This is where Voluntary Simplicity meets CSA meets the joy of the hearth meets the warmth of friends.

My house smells like simmering chicken stock, roasted pumpkin and cooling cranberry sauce. Soon the yeast from the baking bread will waft out of the kitchen. I love times like these. I love making everything from scratch, the whole foods turning into dinner.

P-daddy is home today, so he's on Taxi Duty while I prepare the house for our guests. Tomorrow, he will kick me out of my kitchen like he does every year, so today I have to get in what I need to do ahead of time.

Happy Thanksgiving to you all!

Farm Day Again

And my produce is still in the van. At least the van is in the garage, and it is not so different a temperature from the barn. I can get it in the morning. Another sunny day, after a stretch of grey.

I have lots I could write about, but I am pretty engaged in actually living it all instead of reflecting on it enough to have something germane to say. Even my pictures of late have been boring. Or maybe we're just so busy that I don't focus on them just now. I miss lunch on Wednesdays.

All I want to do is write about the kids' accomplishments and the days we spend with our friends. This week I got to intentionally see three different friends three days in a row. When I was in Toddler Land (the lifestyle ruled by playdates with other Moms with toddlers and babies, no dayplanner required), that was a pretty standard happenstance. In Taxi-Land (Reeciebird has congratulated me on graduating to the time-honored status of Mom-Taxi), time with my friends is much more precious. It has been worth it in the trade-off, though. I am watching my kids bloom yet again, and that's a sparkle I like.

Babies. Maybe I can write about babies. I wrote "sparkle," envisioned G's face, and saw her glowing. Not because she got her third black stripe in karate, or passed her swim test or finally conquered her fear of The Big Red Slide, but because she was holding a baby again. This family desperately misses babies. We love them so. I am really happy where we are in our own family, but I told that Baby's Momma that it was a curious feeling. Before I had the desire to stop procreating, I assumed that once I was done having babies, I wouldn't like babies anymore. That's so not the case. I love them just as much; love rocking, diapering, dressing, singing to them etc. They're just as precious, just as wonderful as they ever were in my eyes. How amazing to me, then, that all the cuteness of my baby and others doesn't set my ovaries to fluttering anymore!

Farm Day!

And a beautiful one at that, albeit cold. I don't want to be home, for some odd reason. I want to be gone already. Maybe I will make an early lunch, stuff them like piggies and just take off. Tuesdays are special days anyway, because the kids get to be dropped off at their classes by Mom and magically picked up again by Dad.

I am feeling very connected today to my friends, even the ones I hardly get to see. There's a lot of transition going on right now; careers, school, pregnancy, health issues of myriad kinds. Over a month away, I already feel the solstice calm growing. I've never felt it this early before, so it's ...interesting.

Of course, now that I write that out, I think it could be just a shadow of last year's solstice. Yesterday we had a storm that knocked out our power for a few hours. We had Y classes so we barely even noticed it. When we returned home we had power again, but we still screwed something up on our woodstove when we decided to have a fire anyway, and had roiling smoke billow into the living areas. Yup, pretty much exactly like last year. :)

Another "fruitful" day

Diffendoofer is definitely in session, as are it's affiliate schools in Fall City, Puyallup and Tacoma. Every Momma I talked to today is marveling at how focussed the kids are this week with their manipulatives and studies. It's so much fun to watch, and I am thrilled to finally have peers right here in the experience with me.

Today the children worked mostly without me, studying music and reading. We did some math. The project of note today though, is that we planted a "European Herb Garden Kit" from Jiffy. The kids and I love to garden, and it's horribly out of season, but that in and of itself can be the lesson, can't it? So now Diffendoofer has a windowsill garden, just as every good classroom should.

The bigger note for me is that the D-meister is becoming, as Montessori would put it, "more peaceful." Up until now he has been the "not yet peaceful child," but he's been allowed that as part of the privilege of being a toddler. I have been really satisfied watching him fold into the family in this new way. Grateful, actually! :)

Parts of a computer

Long ago my computer "Spot" died. I had two computers networked together so that ostensibly, P-daddy and I could spank each other in Age of Empires. All that ended up happening, however, was that Dalicious and I would sit side by side in my office and chat online with our friends. And sometimes each other. It was sad, yes, but hey we still all love one another.

Anyway, I digress. Spot died. Fido lives. Unfortunately, Spot had two hard drives and the master froze, keeping all my important journals to the kids inside it. Fours years later, I still have Spot's corpse, and any intentions I had of rebuilding it have gone the way of the Dodo. We live in Puget Sound, home of Microsoft and Boeing. I can pick up a desktop at a surplus sale for 25.00 that outsizes, outthinks, out-everythings this old machine.

So what does a proper homeschool Mom do?

She gives it to the kids. "Here's a screwdriver. Want to see what's inside?"






Here's a link to the words list I am using for their follow up: http://resources.kaboose.com/brain/comp-les2.html

Montessori and Gatto

Over and again I refer to these guys-- as well as John Holt-- as some of my best influences regarding educational theory. A blogger I read who also espouses Montessori at home has a nice entry on this today:

Montessori for Everyone

I cleaned my room today

Even more neglected than my desk, my room rarely gets the attention of my domestic focus. The upswing is that unlike my desk, I also spend little time in there. Aside from a few piles of "get to it later" and "omg I get to read tonight," it doesn't actually get messy. It does however, get dusty, and how. When my darling 5 year old son complimented me on my "rockin' Halloween decorations!" upon spying the cobwebs in the corner behind my bed, I knew it was overdue.

The problem with cleaning my room is that I like cleaning my room. The cobwebs in the corner turned into every spec of dust in the back of the house. The dusting turned into the windows, and while I had out the windex, that turned into the mirrors. Have you read, incidentally, the fabulous children's tome If You Give A Woman A Bottle Of Windex? The mirrors (all) turned into the shower turned into the walls. Now my house smells like a bleach bomb and I haven't even turned on the vacuum yet. I am taking a break from this to write while I can because well, I like the computer, too. But my fifth load of laundry awaits and I know that with our new schedule, if I don't get all this stuff done TONIGHT, it won't happen.

Time to move furniture now! See you Tuesday!

Settling into winter

So this is what "having kids" looks like.

While having my first baby be seven acutely shows me that at 2.75, my last baby is still very much a "baby," he is still more a child than an infant and I know it. He's been out of diapers for some time and I think we finally weaned this week. He'll be 3 next month.

Things have changed. I've had a baby for 7 years, in one form or another, and now I don't. And it doesn't bother me. Things are fresh and I can look forward again. This isn't a lament about maternity, because I treasured that period in my life and I have close friends there now; it's just a dawning awareness in me that I have arrived "there." That "next phase" we talk about.

My weekly winter calendar is bonkers full of stuff for the kids, without regard to nap time or nursing or playgroup or diaper changes. We're busy taking classes, engaging in the community, and fully active in the home school community now. My bigger kids tell me jokes we all appreciate, and they actually make me LAUGH on a connected humor level, not just a "oh aren't you cute" level. They give back. They expect different things from me, and I find myself not wanting to disappoint them.

This is a really tedious entry. I know I am not expressing myself well. I will try again later.