Pandemic Home schooling

I am feeling it for those worried about school in this "shelter at home" time.  Working in a bookstore I have chatted daily with panicked parents grabbing workbooks by the dozen, and there is not time to really help them.  There was a women in today, filling a basket with workbooks for her preschoolers...I bit my tongue.

A month out of school will not destroy the trajectory of said student, unless it helps one family discover the perks of homeschooling and they then pull a student from a bad situation.  Mostly a month off will most likely give children a bit of breathing space.  I was a homeschooling parent for 24 years.  I was the product of a private school system, and never dreamed of becoming a homeschool parent, how that happened is a long story, visit the beginning of this blog for more info, but over those 24 years I did learn a thing or two.  The first and most important thing I learned, and for the sake of your "stay at home education" survival you need to consider, is that children are learning machines, and mostly you need to get out of the way.

This is not always an easy process and you only have days, I had years to recover from my personal  educational indoctrination, you need to trust me on this one.  It will all be okay, even if not a single worksheet is completed.  Learning does not always require quiet, a pencil, paper, and a teacher lording over the process.  Learning can take on an infinite number of shapes, you need to stop trying to shove it in a box.  This is hard I know, but oh so fun to watch. 

Homeschooling and school at home are two different things.  Trying to recreate the school day schedule at home, 40 minutes on this, 3 minute transfer time, 40 minutes on the next subject, 10 minute mid-morning break, another 40 minutes on that, then 24 minutes for lunch...  Please do not crucify your children with this.  The time to complete a day's worth of lessons for a child at home is just a couple of hours, if you want to cover the material they do in a public school day.  So if you feel obligated to fill out the work sheets relegate this task to before lunch hours, and then you can devote the rest of the day to some real learning.

How hands on you are as a parent is totally up to you, I encourage engaging with your kids, but if circumstances preclude this, that's okay, strew the path and learning will happen.  I happen to enjoy crafts and don't mind mess, this is the perfect time to try some new crafting with kids, and this counts as learning.  At home tasks are also ready made lessons, from laundry to preparing dinner to scrubbing the bathroom, each offers a life skill, or several, which kids need to learn, and if you have young ones they love to help.  If it takes longer, thats okay too, it's school, and your toilet is clean.  Games are learning, almost all of them, let them play board and card games, join in if you feel like it, or just take pictures, so you remember.

Let them be bored and let them create their own entertainment. Like self-soothing to sleep, this is another life skill your children need, how to appropriately amuse themselves.  The line on video gaming is up to you, bad day, let 'em go, but limiting video will help with the calm in the house and also help to build the creativity.  It is all okay.

Finally I strongly encourage read-alouds.  Pick a book, it doesn't have to a picture book even if they are young.  My mother used to read long chapter books to me and my siblings when we were quite young. She actually read aloud Moby Dick (I do not encourage this as an appropriate selection) when I was just 8 and my brother 9, the other 4 children listening were all younger. She also read Heidi, 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea, Black Beauty, Peter Pan and more.  I know that my younger siblings at 2 and 3 don't remember all the stories but they remember being a part of that storytime.  And if you have a busy body that needs to move a bit during storytime, offer them some paper and crayons, or something to quietly play with while they listen, it will amaze you how much they listen and learn.  So pick something that interests you as well as something that might appeal to the kids, if you need ideas I can give you a list.  And just read.

This will all count as school, and read-alouds should include teenagers if they live at home.  If all you have is teenagers, you can even do an audio book together and work on a puzzle, cause everyone loves a good story.

Mostly you just need to breathe and enjoy the extra time with those that won't be small much longer.  It will all be back to a new normal shortly, and the kids will be okay.

Toilet Paper Math

I understand that some folks out there are hoarding toilet paper because they are panicked and need to have at least a modicum of control in their lives and they have chosen to control the roll.  I am hoping that this group is actually smaller than buying indicates, allow me the fantasy.  I want to assume that a major part of the problem is that an abundance of bathrooms and the only partial use of the home during the day has led to folks being unable to properly estimate their actual toilet tissue use.

Here I can help! You see I haven't lived in a house with more than one bathroom in over 40 years, with only one to restock the math becomes easy.  Keep in mind that additional bathrooms will not increase the actual daily usage, extra rooms do not equal extra bowel movements, just more places to clean. We have also homeschooled from the start and I have one college graduate, she moved away, a second almost college graduate (May!!) commuting to school, and a third in college, the two students are still at home.  So we have years of bathroom use, with all the bodies at home a lot of the time, and with a mostly female population, which does make a paper difference.

So my estimates may be a little high for an all male household, but it will not leave you empty handed. With four females and one male daily use is one full (double or triple) roll of 2-ply tissue. This increases only slightly one week per month, add 2 rolls to be sure.  Now you need only adjust for single ply if you opt to make that choice, your number of rolls will increase quite a bit.  Only two people in the house, cut those numbers by at least half.  You have 8 at home all day, then double everything.

If you want more accurate numbers for your house, you only need to have everyone use just one bathroom for a 24 hour period, put in a fresh roll at the beginning of the test period and see what is left at the end.  You should have a spare roll in the designated bathroom, just in case you are using single ply, or have a larger than average household. Now you are ready to shop.

You want stock for 30 days?  Here I would need about 32 rolls of tissue for the 30 days, 45 days? 47 rolls, 60 days? 64 rolls.  There is no way I would need a pallet full of toilet paper for this 2 month period, if would merely take up extra space in the basement. So do your math, and you will have on hand exactly what you need and more space for storage of bottled water.

If you do the math and find out you have overbought, feel free to take it back to Target, or share it with your neighbor who failed to estimate accurately, or was unable to purchase the proper amount because someone else followed some poorly thought out numbers. 

Too Old Too Soon

Of the last 30 books I have read from the young reader classification, all the protagonists are 5th or 6th graders and 11 years old.  WHY??  And in most of these fictional accounts the youngsters behave in a manner much older than most 11 year olds that I know.  I taught 8th graders for 40 years and the books are attempting to move these kids into high school before they are ready.  I also just spent an overnight with 12-16 year olds, and I still believe the books are making their characters way too sophisticated, the 12 year olds at the event just confirmed my beliefs.

The behaviors that belong to older junior high or early high school, appear in these books with baby aged main characters, I can tell you no 13-14 year old wants to read a book about an 11 year old.  All publishers need to do is put all these kids in 8th grade and they would appeal to a much larger kid audience.  Everybody wants to read about kids their own age and those who are older.

So we are left with the later junior high kids moving to teen/young adult titles whose content is at times not appropriate for their age, but more importantly they miss out of all the great reading still available in the kid section.  So would someone please start writing for all the 13 year olds out there??

Lenten Psalm of Awakening

Too lovely not to share, we opened relent with this one and it offers food for thought.  It has been three years and I continue to ignore this spot, maybe it's finally time to wake up.

Lenten Psalm of Awakening

Come, O Life-giving Creator,
and rattle the door latch
of our slumbering hearts.

Awaken us as you breathe upon
a winter-wrapped earth,
gentling calling to life,
spring.

Awaken in these fortified days
of Lenten prayer and discipline
our youthful dreams of holiness.

Call us forth from our prisons
of past defeats and disappointments
and our narrow patterns of being
to make our ordinary lives extraordinarily alive
through the passion of our love.

Show to us during these Lenten days
how to take the daily things of life
and by submerging them in the sacred
To infuse them with a great love
for you, O God, and for others.

Guide us to perform simple acts of love and prayer,
the real works of reform and renewal
of this overture to the spring of the Spirit.

Loving God, help us not to waste these precious Lenten days
of our soul’s spiritual springtime.

Adapted from Edward Hays, Prayers for a Planetary Pilgrim

Questions...

Why is standing up for what you believe a bad thing? If you believe certain drugs and devices cause fertilized embryos to be destroyed, and you believe that destroying embryos is the taking of innocent life. This makes those drugs and devices tantamount to murder in your opinion.  Forcing someone to take innocent life or to pay for the taking of it seems unreasonable to me.

Why is birth control a right?  I do see it as a responsibility but I don't see it as a right, we are not morally entitled to birth control.  It is something we have available, and in many cases causes more harm than good,  If someone chooses to use birth control why is society compelled to be responsible for that person's behavior.  Sex is a choice, although there are many that would have you believe that we are incapable of control over this physical urge.  Sex isn't necessary to live, millions live without it and survive just fine. Yes, yes, it is necessary for new life, I mean not necessary after you are conceived.  I just don't think this is an area where we need government telling us what to do.  As is the case with most health decisions.  But we have already sacrificed our freedom over our personal health care, so we are stuck with interference.  So when government says I must kill someone, I think it's important to say, no.

What would have happened if enough people said, "I don't think killing Jews is a morally responsible thing to do," and refused to cow to Hitler.

Don't Miss Honora Lee

I interrupt the dress business to return to a favorite topic, books, or a book to be specific.  I have no question where my daughter got gets her distractability. 

I have found a great inter-generational book group title.  ACB With Honora Lee by Kate DeGoldi a charming book that can name feelings and frustrations for many kids but I am afraid they won't pick this one up by themselves.  So it might be one to foist on your children during a car ride, but you need to have a copy of the real book on hand as well so you don't miss the pictures.  For your artsy ones the pictures give much to explore and to think about, a little insight into how Perry's brain might work.
Perry is the young lady with well intentioned busy parents, and a mother whose mission is to make sure her only child doesn't miss a learning opportunity.  Perry is saved when a scheduled class is cancelled and convinces her parents that she can use the time to weekly visit her grandmother Honora Lee, who has pretty severe dementia, at the Santa Lucia nursing home.  Grandma cannot remember her son, calls Perry a boy, bullys other patients, and because of a history teaching special education and reading, has a love for all things alphabet.  Perry decides to write and illustrate an alphabet book for her grandmother, through which we meet all the wonderful residents, and workers at Santa Lucia.
No real conversations seem to occur between Perry and Honora, yet real connection takes place.  Perry is a struggling student she offers grandma another chance to teach, though neither seem to be aware of this delightful happenstance.   Perry is a bright and quirky kid, looking to build her family bonds, as life at home is a bit too much about structure and not enough about relationships her well intentioned parents often miss the mark. The book is touching, funny, informational, with lessons in kindness, patience and the dignity of all folks. You will love Perry's gentle indomitable spirit, ever forgiving nature, and most of all her compassionate heart.

Once upon a time...a Dress.

This is currently consuming my time so it will therefore become blogging fodder.  A dress made it's appearance on stage in 2007 along with my children it was their first Thin Ice production, Oliver.  We had found in our collection an antique item, late 1800's, that fit our Mrs Sowerberry.  It was a black silk and really lovely but we discovered as rehearsals progressed that it was a bit fragile, required daily repair, and there were some sort of mites living in it, as our young actress daily came away with new bites after wearing the dress.  Yes, we made her wear it, yes we cleaned it, yes it continued to be a problem.  Needless to say it has not made another appearance on stage, but ended up sealed in a bag hoping to suffocate any other critters or eggs that might still reside in it's folds.

Just recently we moved the costume collection and unearthed the dress from it's bag, and whatever died left the dress musty and moldy.  I said I would take it home to launder it.  I started with a cold water vinegar bath, just soaking, hoping that would kill off the mold before I washed it.  Well lo and  behold the water turned jet black instantly and rinsing didn't help it continued to turn even plain water black.  The fabric was actually disintegrating.  I removed as much water as I could, as gently as I could and hung the dress, or what remained of it to dry in the sun.

With no hope of ever using the item again as a costume and because it was a beautiful dress I decided to deconstruct the thing and make a pattern from the pieces.  The bodice was fully lined and the lining fabric was a cotton that proved a little sturdier that the silk dress fabric.  So between outer and inner pieces I hope to come up with something that will make constructing a like item in the future possible.

Deconstruction has proved interesting and it appears that our dress had a history before it made it to the big time.  I have also learned a little about the historical dress construction and need to study up a bit to find out about materials.  But it has also explained how Polly, in The Five Little Peppers and How they Grew, could actually save and reuse thread.  I began using only the "Good" thread years ago but now know it is a poor substitute for thread used 100 years ago.  The cotton stuff used in this dress was made to last, they also use a cording to make mini piping that was a cotton twist heavier than button and carpet thread but not as heavy as a string.  Of all materials that were used in this dress the thread was what was in the best shape.

I found the bodice had been interfaced, only around the neck, not the back where I would expect reinforcement of the placket for the hook and eye closure.  There also appeared to be a correct way to sew on hook and eyes, all were identically stitched in place.  The sewing in this garment was amazing hand work so fine and uniform on a couple of seams I thought I was looking at machine stitching. That interfacing though, I believe was a light cotton batting, seemed to be a perfect location for critters to hang out unnoticed.  It was powdery in spots and I had to scrape parts of it off the dress lining.  So I will only imagine what interfacing pieces should look like for my future pattern.  I did take photos.  Will post later.

So if you aren't bored to tears at this point I will continue to write about the dress, join me if you wish, or go away, your choice.

Appalled

I either have to do something with this or take it down.  For the time I am going to try writing again, for my own benefit, so I may even remove my filters.  Beware.

I know each generation bemoans the behavior of it's offspring but after attending a party recently I found myself saying "What is the world coming to?"

Common courtesy and respect for others and property appears to have disappeared.  The party I attended or assisted with was for a 13 yo and was attended by 14 or so other junior high types, and equal mix of boys and girls so no gender bias here.  The party began in the basement with music and some games, adults making appearances, we did not know at the time that total supervision was required.  When the crew moved to the back yard and I hit the basement to remove food trays, I found food thrown everywhere, stepped on, mashed into plates, reminded me of the area surrounding a one year old's high chair.  This was somebody else's house, what was behavior like at home?  I did mention to the host that the basement had seen better days, and I believe he did speak, gently to the guests.

More food, dinner type in the back yard, and when we went to clean up there was more of the same, plates thrown, food squished and mashed into plates, bottles and cans tossed about, at least it was outside.  Is this normal junior high behavior?  What do lunch rooms look like at school, are social niceties a thing of the past?  Finally it was time for cake, thank heavens there were only cupcakes, but the crew managed to smear chocolate frosting all over each others faces, backs, stomachs, arms and legs.  We didn't even break out the ice cream.  I did monitor the bathroom as some clean up ensued, to avoid another disaster area.

The herd decide they wanted to walk to a local park, or so they said.  Off they went, to another house where they threw coke cans and trashed another indoor space.  Is this even close to normal?

I am a bit removed from the mainstream in my social network, homeschooling does that, but I was truly appalled.  These kids were more than old enough to know better, one kid actually left the party, and I am holding out on hope that he realized he couldn't stay, nor could he stand up to the crowd so he quietly removed himself.  'Tis a glimmer, so I don't have to give up on a generation.

It has been ages since anything was posted it is time to revive the old keys and see if there is life left in this mission.  For today though, as it is late I am posting something I wrote a time ago after being asked about how I see God in my life.  Enjoy.

Footprints on My Soul

 God tiptoes in when I can be still and know, those moments of calm so rare amid the daily hubbub.  In pools of silence glassy reflections show feather light touches that gentle the spirit.

God slides in when I am not looking and is standing on second before I realize the ball’s in play.  The sudden stop leaves toe marks that wake and remind, this is important, pay attention, bring me home.

God skips in playfully when happiness abounds, laughing eyes and gleeful girl giggles.  Bounding rabbit tracks that glow with warmth and satisfaction spreading in circles like excited hugs.

God runs in the frantic activity that chases us daily.  Assisted by Anthony and Jude ever ready to repair and restore.  A dash that results in a path strewn with reminders that even though I forget, I am never forgotten.

God stomps in when I am oblivious, or just plain stubborn, causing crater like impressions that leave no doubt as to correct direction or path.

God dances in those moments of awe, sometimes the waltz of the Mass, ordered, constrained, yet soaring.  Sometimes a foxtrot that sets the heart thumping or swing that sends you flying, all leaving patterns that shape.

God stands in my life when I need to rest, when stability and solace require.  Those times I know I can’t go on and hope is a dim and distant feeling.  Not just marks this time, something solid to hang on to till I am on my feet once again.

That awful feeling in the pit of your stomach.

You know it.

That moment when your stomach drops, acidic tears push at your eyes, your breath catches in your throat.

Yeah. That one.

I feel like I constantly have this feeling. I'm constantly holding back tears, holding back emotions, trying to hold it all in.

We're starting to get financial aid information back from colleges and every time I open a letter I get this feeling - to the extreme. Every letter I open seems to push my dreams farther and farther away from me.

In order to go to any of my schools so far, I'd have to take out $15,000 in loans at this point. This is money that I, a Communications/Art/English major, cannot afford.

Let's take Ithaca College for an example. I've been really psyching myself up to go to Ithaca, trying not to think about the fact that Elon won't give me any money so I won't actually be able to go to my dream school. Whatever. Not bitter or anything.

But Ithaca has offered me not only their highest merit scholarship, but also a leadership scholarship and has accepted me into their Honors program.

Okay, I've gotten their highest scholarships and would be one of their top students.

And I still can't afford to go.

I just kick myself every day for being too lazy to apply for more scholarships. For not working my fingers off. For not taking more hours. For not working harder.

If I had actually been committed to applying for scholarships a few years ago, would I be sitting here crying over the fact that I may actually not be able to go to school next year simply because of money?

I don't know. Maybe.

I just don't know what to do. I really, really, really don't want to end up going to University of Illinois - and at this point, I don't even know if I'm going to be able to afford to go there.

It just feels like my dreams are crashing down around me. This is everything I've ever wanted. I know this is a completely whiny post, but I am so scared and lost right now that I just have no idea what to do.

I can't hope anymore. I can't think. Can't breathe.

Life just sucks sometimes, and all I can think of Coldplay's Lost?

Just because I'm losing, doesn't mean I've lost . . .
Just because I'm hurting, doesn't mean I'm hurt.
Doesn't mean I didn't get what I deserved.

Distractions and resolutions.

So, I know we haven't been regularly posting - yes, it was my idea to start a blog and I've been horrible about it.

Ah, well.

So, I've been wanting to do the 365 challenge for a while. If you don't know what that is, it's simply taking a photograph every day and posting it somewhere. I need to start taking more photos and even just bought a macro/fisheye lens to inspire myself to do so.

Since I'm pretty bad at keeping up with challenges, I'm not going to be starting right away, but my mom suggested I practice. So, I'm going to start practicing - taking pictures and posting them here. Hopefully, it'll work out. I want to officially start when I leave for college, since it'll be a "new chapter," you know, and when/if I do so, I'll start my own "photo" blog, since I'll actually be taking pictures.

Ha! We'll see what happens.

On how money, college, and waiting sucks.

"Sure, we can sit around and fantasize all we want about how things are going to be different one day, but this is today and it sucks."

I just came across this on a friend's Tumblr. It's a quote from the movie Easy A (which I still have not seen, despite regular self-notes to do so), and it struck me how relevant it is to me right now.

I'm stuck in limbo. If you know me, you know I'm not an optimist in any sense of the word. I look on the dark side of life, and sometimes it's helpful, but most of the times it's not.

And right now, I'm waiting. And it sucks. Most everyone I know has heard the story, so I won't repeat it here - but in a few words, I didn't get the huge scholarship I need to go to my dream school and now I don't know what's going to happen.

I want to be hopeful. I really do. I want things to work out more than anything in the world.

But the problem is, I don't know what to be hopeful for. I can't guarantee that I'll be able to even go to any of my schools because of money. The problem, at this point, isn't that I won't be able to go to Elon. I'm working on trying to convince myself that isn't going to happen, because, realistically speaking, it's probably not. But what if I don't get enough money to go to my "second" choice? My third? My sixth?

It's really painful when people say things like, "oh, you'll end up where you're supposed to be."

What does that even mean?

I'm "supposed" to be at Elon, is the only thing that runs through my mind. "Everything works out. Everything happens for a reason."

But what if it's a bad reason?

It makes me so jealous when I see people saying, "so, I've decided to go to this school." Well, whoop-de-doo, congratulations that you have a choice. I get to go where I get the most money, whether I like that school or not.

And that just sucks.

Because as much as I want other things to happen, or even as hard as I work, my future is in the hands of someone else right now, and I can't do anything about it.

Sucky Day

Tumor...such a scary word. It is most likely a benign tumor, but you should get it checked out. Well that's a DUH. But worse than the initial statement is not being able to get it checked out for 12 days. You just wait and wonder and google everything you can think of and fill your brain with worse case scenarios. It is not a pretty picture, bone cancer in the face is so rare that it is seldom a primary location. It does get better from there, but my brain is stuck and keeps checking back to that fact. We don't know how long it has been there, well less than two years, and there isn't any sign of it going back 15 years, until the current x-ray. I just wait and dread.

Then to cap off the day my baby failed to be invited into the honors fellowship at the college of her choice, this program brought with it enough scholarship monies to make the small private school doable. She had already been accepted and awarded their presidential scholarship at which point they invited her to apply to the fellows program. I am so sad for her, and haven't written off the school as she has but we need to find some other tuition sources.

So goes my day, I am glad it is over but we still must both deal with some grief and consequences so the house is not so happy at this time, and we are both starting on some stress vitamins.

Guilt

I feel compelled to write but have nothing of value to discuss. The Newberys will be announced in two weeks and I haven't read enough to make predictions. I have to teach two classes beginning on Monday and should be doing some prep. My babies are turning 14 today. Girl Scout cookie sales begin today, I know this because one of my hats is that of Cookie Mom. I get to go to a brunch today, without my children. I need to finish my Christmas thank you notes, this week. I keep unfinished projects around even thought I know they create more guilt, and seldom get finished. I really should make some resolutions for the year but finally know better.

OK, that is a post, I am once again current.

Shower Revelations

I do some of my best thinking in the shower. This stems from years of having this be the only spot in the house where I could be alone. They will come into the bathroom but not the shower. It is quiet and calming, and most days they leave me alone now. Water soothes all sorts of ills and as my mind relaxes new ideas emerge,

Water saved me regularly when the kiddos were small. Most frantic days could be smoothed out with the addition of water. A bucket to paint on the sidewalk, a kiddie pool in the back yard, a day at the water park, an afternoon bath that lasts till dinnertime. Something about water puts smiles back on faces, brings an end to fighting, and refreshes the body as well as the soul, all at the same time. So I shouldn't be surprised that shower time offers more than cleansing.

My most recent revelation involves my twin girls. Twins do not have normal sibling relationships, if you have siblings and then have twins you can easily see the differences very early in the twins lives. These children are linked in a most intimate fashion, the need to please Mama, when young, is overshadowed by the need to please your twin. Joint permission is a given, you say yes to one, they assume both have permission. They support, admire, share, encourage, nurture, correct, defend, the list is endless, each other all the time. So why are my twin girls daily ready to throw their best friend out the window?

I got it, in the shower, my answer. Adolescence is a time when a child has the job of separating from her parents and establishing herself as a young adult, this means developing self awareness, setting personal life goals, standing ultimately on your own two feet. Normally this involves some struggles in the parent child relationship as the child pushes for independence and autonomy and the parent relinquishes control over the child. Well, remember that atypical twin relationship...that's it, that's why they are trying to kill one another, they don't have to push us their parents away, they are moving away from each other.

And they are in anguish, a twin is someone who you require in your life, but you also know you can't really have them like you did in the past. Yet this is someone who knows your soul, who knows your most intimate secrets, who has shared your life since before you were born. They want to be free and independent but letting go is almost impossible, the turmoil is evident in our house. But at least I have a plan. We are working to assist them on the road to alone, by encouraging individual activities, and pointing out those successes, healing the hurts they inflict on each other, reassuring them that their twin will always be an important person in their life, someone they can lean on even when they don't live in the same house or state or even country.

Hopefully the struggles will taper off as confidence grows. In the mean time at least I have an inkling as to the root of the daily frustrations and can better negotiate the minefield these twins have created.

Ignorance is Bliss

This too shall pass. That has to be my mantra.

Adolescence is rearing it's obstinate head, in stereo, in my home. At times it seems a battle to the death is our only option. It is so difficult to remain the adult amid the hailstorm. Yet I know that there is hope, as I have survived this once before. Somehow, 13 stormed through and the delightful 17 year old who now resides where I live makes me forget that war zone. Could it be that this is another "childbirth" experience?

You remember, or do you, the day your darling was born? Both the birth days of my daughters are shrouded in fog. There are fragments of the day, waffles for breakfast, walking hospital hallways, a dark quiet room, a brightly lit OR, I think there was some pushing... Then all is clear again a tiny kitten cry and a baby whisked to intensive care, or second time around two babies to hold and nurse and snuggle until they insisted I move to another room. The moments most available for recall all have babies outside of me.

This must be a protection device to insure the survival of our species, the entire childbirth experience is almost forgotten as you hold your new born. This insures we will do it all again. I am beginning to believe that surviving the rearing of offspring through puberty is a similar experience. Of course you have had years to bond with the child, this too helps in their ultimate survival, but if one truly remembered it all I am not sure you would keep future children. Your own need for preservation would force you to sell to the first interested buyer, and may be even be willing to offer monies to cart them away. As a group we might have even come up with institutions to house the unruly lot and let them take on each other instead of keeping them individually.

But nature sees fit to protect us, and when my 17 year old apologized for past sins as a 13 year old I struggled to remember anything that merited an apology or forgiveness. My brain has tucked those memories into corners so obscure that they fail to register. Just like my first airplane ride. I remember being so excited at 16 I was flying to Washington DC with my youth group for a national convention, and chatting with my dad and mentioned it was my first flight. "No it isn't" he said.
Yes it is, I've never flown before," I responded.
"Don't you remember flying home from grandpa's funeral? You were 9 or so..." He went on to explain it was a very rough flight we apparently flew through a tornado on the way home.

Now I have total recall of the events leading up to said flight. My grandfather had a heart attack and died while visiting my family in Oklahoma, their home was in Minnesota. So my father, brother, grandmother, and I all traveled together by car back to Minnesota for the funeral. I even remember the funeral procession to the burial and playing with all the buttons in the back of the limousine. Thinking about it, I realized that we had driven my grandparent's car on that road trip and had to have gotten home somehow, but try as I might there are no available memories. No airport, no flight, no nothing. According to my father it was one of the worst flights he ever experienced, my brother was sick for most of the trip. The old brain pulls a fast one hiding all.

Good thing for the 13 year olds.

Tomorrow is the triathlon, a second annual for the family. Only two participants this year as last year and daddy is very excited. He gets a little goofy when he is excited. It is fun to watch. There is clearly joy in his heart when people he cares about do absurd athletic events with him. Years ago I watched the same thing happen when I started doing weekend distance rides on my bike. These events didn't even require we ride together. I would do 33 miles and he would do 50, we started the route together and at some point the real distance riders veered off, we would part and would have to search each other out at the end of the ride. The first time I completed a 33 mile route and we reconnected by the car, it was like having a friendly puppy at your heels, bumping, nipping, playful and no matter how annoying you would still find yourself smiling at the antics. Tennis too brought on some of this euphoria, a silly giddiness, that prompted sweaty kisses as we switched ends of the court. It is not just doing things together, but they must involve athletics.

A week ago my eldest said "Daddy is really excited about the triathlon." I try not to "Duh" my daughters but was sorely tempted in this case. "Yes," I said. "he really enjoys doing these kinds of activities with family."
"No," she said. "You don't understand, he is really excited and acting kinda goofy."
"Yes, he is, just get use to it, it is part of something bigger than both of us so just enjoy"

My children are driving me nuts, "Has the cast list come out yet?" a question posed at least daily, and sometimes thrice daily, and I have absolutely no control over said cast list. So why do they continue to ask me? "Because she sends it to your e-mail." is the regular answer to that question but one would think that they would realize I gain nothing from hiding the release of the cast list and would not do this, so they will know as soon as I know, unless they are not home. Then it is possible I would momentarily forget to pass along this precious knowledge but it would not be for more than an hour or two.

Why the anxiety? I don't know I have children that must worry about something, this is foreign to me, I can enjoy life and exist for days in a bliss filled state of happiness actually pushing worry out of the way on purpose. But my daughters cannot, the seem to need to fret all the time. Even when things are going remarkably well, they will actually seek out things to worry over. Like after a beautiful day at the beach with friends, one of the girls corners me and asks to talk, this is code for I am worried about something and need to discuss it. Some minor event during our time at the beach will be front and center taking the polish off the day. I try. I try to remind that this isn't really all that important and didn't you really have a good time today? But it is as futile as shoveling during a blizzard, we must moan, and whine, and rehash the slights, and wounds, and mishaps or my day would not be complete.

This is not something I will ever miss.

A Letter to My Daughter

Dearest,

You ask me so often WHY I love you and I feel so helpless in trying to express how much you mean to me and to my life. I know you will never understand fully unless you have a child of your own, but it is Kenyon times 1000. I wish I could wave a magic wand and it would let you feel even for a moment the depth of my love for you so you would no longer need to ask, you would just know.

We have watched you grow from the earliest days there are photos and journals that recorded the minutia. Daddy secretly called the hospital to get the test results and knew you were on the way before even I did, and he got to tell me and we both cried. That was one of the first happiest days of my life. Eight months later was another, you came into the world backwards, and blue and were whisked away before I even got a look. We held our breaths until we heard this little cry and thought then we couldn’t possibly love you more than at that moment, but we do because it keeps growing.

Each day provides opportunity for parental bonds to get stronger, to get to know this “person becoming” who now shares your life. And what a person you have become. More than I could have imagined, as a parent you would like to take credit for all the wonderful, but mostly it’s just you. We are so proud of the young woman you have grown into. Your work at school, your jobs, your college safari, all demonstrate a responsible, mature forward thinking person that leaves her peers in the dust. But more important than the endless creativity, artistic flair, and word mastery is the heart that beats at the center of all that passion and promise. It is that heart filled with genuine concern and caring that shines through even when it’s immediate surroundings seem bleak and dark, we are connected by that heart.

You have yours and I gave you mine 18 years ago, that is how I know exactly how beautiful you truly are. Allowing one’s heart to romp about unprotected isn’t always easy, there are the bumps and bruises of childhood and the rending of adolescence, but on the whole you have taken great care of mine and I feel safe knowing a bit of me is always with you. In exchange for the hazards I get a peek at what makes up the core of you, there is a light there that warms me, consoles me, fills me with hope for you. You make me a better person, by all that you are.

As we face the future together, a great abyss at this moment, know that you are more than I could ever have hoped for in a daughter, I am honored to be your mom. Know too that doubt and faith go hand in hand, during those darkest times, I am there with you and Christ is with me, if you don’t see that, it’s ok, you don’t have to, I have faith enough for both of us.

I Love You, forever and always no matter what,

Mom

Procrastination, again

The fall schedule looms manic, how did that happen? Today I am avoiding the calendar. I am suppose to be filling all the little boxes with all the events to which we are already committed. It scares me. I am hoping to be pleasantly surprised when I finish to discover that in no way have I overloaded things it was just my imagination running a muck and the schedule is eminently workable.

I hope. I really believe at this point it is only my schedule that is out of control and this will change after a week of concentrated class preparation. I am teaching three classes this fall, including two new ones, instead of just one and new classes always require more upfront work than I remember. My oldest is in charge of her own schedule and she has done a much better job this fall than I have. The younger two won't be over booked, because they keep trying to skate on the academics, which makes for no extra-curriculars, makes me a bit sad but I refuse to fight as it's ineffective. So onward to class prep and a lowered heart rate.