Well, we got the more snow. Today was a minor disaster for our county with their snow cancellation--they didn't make the call until high school students were already in school and elementary students were already at the bus stops. Then they called for a 2 hour delay for middle and elementary schools, then quickly turned it to a full cancellation. So no Valentine's party at preschool because there was no preschool. And no math class. It was all fine with me--we wanted to finish our book, the boys got to play for four hours with a friend from another neighborhood, and we got all of our math and then some done. It was a productive day. And Frances still had her piano lesson and her dance rehearsal, and I was able to go out and get a chicken for dinner. Then tonight the boys had their library book club (they were the only ones there again...feels kind of odd to have the private Clendenon book club, but they love it!) and Rutledge and Frances got to go swimming and then we all had hot chocolate and ice cream by candlelight before Frances read to Rutledge and then we started reading "The Secret Garden" in a lovely illustrated edition. After that, the boys and I read "The Dead and the Gone" for a little over an hour, but it got so bleak and disgusting and disturbing that we had to stop and push the reset button by watching a little bit of "Mantrackers," which is an amazingly stupid snow. It saddens me that even the Science Channel and Discovery have stooped to reality show level. Now I flip past my favorite stations for late night TV (History, History International, Science, Discovery, Military) and they all have these static series that don't interest me at all. Swamp Loggers, Survivorman, Pawn Stars, and all kinds of other things that I don't want to see, or I watched them once or twice and had enough.

I feel like we're at a bit of a crossroads with things like math and even vocabulary. I'm not sure that Walter is able to go much further than he has already gone. Or we may have to slow things way down and I'll have to modify my expectations. It's hard to understand--he's always been in the very top percentiles in math since we started testing, and he even scores in the high 99th percentile on independently given, high-ceilinged achievement tests, but it's like he has lost all ability to problem solve and think and manipulate information. He seems to not understand very basic English words--not just in a "I can't think of how to describe that meaning in other words" way, but in a total misunderstanding of the entire idea of the word. It is painful beyond what it feels like it should be, and I feel very guilty about it, that I am possibly going to have to let go of some of my dreams for him--maybe even something like college. I hate that I have such a narrow vision of "success" and what best situates a person for a happy and productive life. My whole life I've been surrounded by people who have valued higher education as pretty much the only path, and I've been surrounded by people who were doing pretty well in the system. Some of them didn't always put forth a huge amount of effort, but I guess lying in wait was the possibility that if or when they wanted to get something, well, then they'd just apply themselves. I didn't know people well whose possibilities were more limited. And I kick myself because I feel like I'm not being very thoughtful and have my eyes on the absolute wrong prize here. The most important thing is that my children find ways to be happy, to feel productive, to have good lives where they have satisfying relationships with other people and hopefully contribute to wherever they live. Getting into a "good" college is probably more about making *me* feel successful. And after all, part of my motivation in choosing an alternative mode of education was that I didn't want my children to feel confined to the one little box of success with the path that I saw and pursued with more regard for the path itself sometimes than for actual learning. Still, I have to be honest and say that I still feel out of my element. I get the traditional path; I feel more like I'm wandering in the desert when we're far off that path.

Our days seem to go like rollercoasters. Yesterday, Ollie really liked math and it felt easy. Before that, he was getting more wrong than right. Then today he was back to confused.

Then there's our dear little Rutledge. Hmm. Big conundrum. Most people I know have "smart" kids. He's well within the chronological age to go to kindergarten next year--isn't one of those dread summer birthdays or anything, is solidly within the middle of the pack--and yet he probably would not be able to handle it. He's not just socially and emotionally young, but he's academically clueless. He doesn't seem to consistently know the difference between letters and numbers. He can't write his name. Or say the letters in it. Or count past 12. Or say all of the alphabet. Or write any letters. Or hold a pencil correctly. I don't know how this happened, and he's not very open to learning these things. He actively fights me. He makes little progress. I feel totally and completely responsible for this, a likely result of him playing so many video games when he was young. I wonder if I have permanently atrophied his brain connections. Frustratingly, he doesn't truly test as having any developmental delays, at least not right now, he may just be plain "slow." I question whether he is going to be able to catch up to his peers at some point, or whether this is a continuous issue we'll deal with.

One kid getting into any college whatsoever. That's what I'll settle for for now! Or one kid who will be able to leave home and be self-supporting.

On the plus side, he was on a maze kick today, after I bought him a new maze book this week. He did, I think, 110 or more mazes today. 84 in one book and about 25 in another. And he's quick. He even looked at the pictures in the front of the book that explained how to correctly hold a pencil, and he was willing to give it a try. I couldn't get him to put the heel of his hand on the paper to help control the pencil more, but at least he was doing better than his usual, and his lines weren't as shaky. Then Frances got him a pencil gripper, and that was the end of it. He was holding the grip all wrong--it has these wings that stick out the side and you put your fingers inside them. He was grabbing the wings from the wrong direction and then holding them, not the pencil. I was worried that if I pushed a correction on him, he'd never do another maze or anything involving a pen, pencil, or marker ever again. Sigh....

For many years I have not been the primary dinner-maker, but for a variety of reasons, I'm finding myself suddenly in this role. It is important to me that we eat at the table and together at least a few days a week, and I had realized that over the past few months, we've rarely even eaten at all. I was feeling awful that the kids were getting hungry at all kinds of odd hours...and it was because we had forgotten sometimes not just one meal, but two in a row, leaving people kind of fending for themselves. I hate cooking and I'm really bad at it, mostly because I have little interest and my attention gets diverted so easily that I forget things or time things all wrong. But I'm making it my particular project lately to improve and to prioritize this. I'm also trying to step it up on the home projects and maintenance and with the dogs. Hokie is looking just awful lately--so thin and bony, not absorbing his food well at all. Kerry doesn't think the vet can do anything and doesn't want to spend any money on him, but it's been more than 3 months, and I think he needs to be checked on again. We don't need to do a lot of diagnostic tests, but maybe there's something we can do to keep a little weight on him. There was a time in his life when he was 48 pounds (yeah, that was overweight), but now he is probably about 16 pounds. His ideal is probably somewhere between 32-34 pounds. Bilbo, meanwhile, won't stop stealing cat food, and he's a porker now, which is its own problem. And he's getting less housebroken by the minute. I feel responsible. It is my fault, and if I'm bothered, it's my responsibility to do something about it. If there was money I could throw at it that would make a difference, I would, and I'd risk any wrath to do it. But I just don't know. What I think would help is if I could get out and walk him several times a day and implement a positive reinforcement program. Long ago, about a year and a half ago, our vet suggested boiling up some chicken to give him when he goes and to use the crate and take him out regularly. I'm not doing that. I'm distracted. I. Must. Stop. Being. Distracted. I feel like here I am, doing something, since I rarely sit down, and I get a lot of reading done, but is anything else getting done? My front steps and walk are an ice slick because I kept meaning to get out and clear them but kept forgetting. My family is suffering because I'm not managing our life very well. I fear I'm just not cut out for keeping track of everything to keep a family and life running smoothly!

Believe it or not, there is more snow possible in the upcoming week. Though I do still welcome it, I get nervous as we get closer to The Little Prince, which is next weekend. It goes without saying that our families aren't going to come. Already Kerry's sister has said they can't make it to the show, and I didn't expect my Dad to come, but I doubt Kerry's parents will want to drive if there is even any residual snow anywhere on the grass. I wonder if there will be a DVD of the show that we could get to share with our families. I'm just so excited for Frances, who is so very excited and is always leaping and grand-jete-ing through the house now. She is even doing a lot more gymnastics lately--splits and back handsprings on the bed and cartwheels. It's very cool.