Mid-late summer

Here we are, winding down the official summer vacation according to the vast majority of the American world...whatever that is. Around here, we're taking in these final lazy days by being a little less than lazy. I'm actually feeling like a big 'ol slacker these days. Not exactly creating opportunities for us, not really taking full advantage of the freedom that we have homeschooling. We should be doing exciting things, searching for unique learning opportunities, or at the least making use of our weekday freedom, and here I am, doing little more than going to our local pool, playing tennis, and spending too much time in the car according to our audio book count. We're halfway through Silverwing, which is 7 hours long and we just started yesterday, I think. That's bad news for our car time!

Frances has a buddy at gymnastics, a buddy who shares her on again/off again relationship with the sport. Eve and Frances look very similar--tiny with blond bobs--and they are separated during training because they prevent each other from learning with their shenanigans. Story of my life, actually. Nancy and Alison. Count off to find your groups--1, 2, 1, 2, 1, 2, 1, 1.... I am promoting the concept of a "Gymnastics Treat" similar to the old "Ballet Treat" that motivated Frances during the first year when she desperately wanted to take ballet and we had paid for the semester but she kept refusing to actually go out onto the floor with her class. Now she is saying that ballet is her one true love. And it's not as though I insist on gymnastics being her one true love, but darnit, we just ordered the new sky blue sparkly leotard, and it would be nice if she didn't drop out 6 weeks into the year. It is her belief that gymnastics practice prevents her from going to birthday parties and having fun. A misperception that probably isn't helped by the fact that she keeps getting separated from the person who makes gymnastics an entertaining venture for her. But the logic of people trying to get cooperation and "learning" has never been what I'd consider flawless.

Today Ollie has been hooked on www.brainpop.com. He must have watched at least 25 mini-video lessons on topics ranging from internet safety to Adolf Hitler to twins to the Vietnam War to genetic mutations and aliens. He gets a kick out of the quizzes, and with his tenacious memory, this is just the right fit. His amazing desire to scratch the surface of every topic on earth is also fed by the bite sized portions of facts and exposure. Walter...well, he's Walter. He can watch one or two things, miss 8 out of 10 questions on the quiz immediately afterward, but boy can he entertain himself with a boatload of action figures, a tub of Legos, and his quirky imagination. And his openness to new math concepts far outdoes Ollie's whimpering at having to actually do a problem on his own. To combat my own lack of patience, I am implementing a new system where I do the writing again for Ollie's math work and I sit with him in a comfortable spot and we do the problems together. My master plan is to take this approach for as long as makes sense and then transition to him doing more of the work on his own, culminating in him eventually doing the work independently without tears and without my blood pressure rising. I'm realizing this may be further away than I think.

I'm finding myself swinging back toward my longstanding approach to our schooling, which is to have a moderate agenda of my own but to primarily allow the children to direct their own learning and their time in it. One of the primary factors driving this approach for me is the fact that no matter how much I might want to do something like read (or do!) history with Walter, if it isn't sinking in, it isn't sinking in. And if he doesn't want to listen, he doesn't want to listen and is going to be distracting. Trying to force him into the box that I want him in, no matter how attractive the box and how much of a case I can make for him needing to be in it, isn't making any of us happy and isn't making him learn what I'm attempting to force-feed him. He is learning what is important to him, and I'm going to remain by his side and make sure that he receives what he needs to follow what inspires him, and this is enough for now. Will he ever grow up? I don't know. I really don't know at this point. But I can't re-engineer him, and that's a good thing. He's fine being himself.

Nine

Nine years old. Obviously, one bundle of a couple hundred days before double digits. And halfway to 18. And more than halfway to driving. And nearly ten years since I was pregnant with them. Nine years ago I had just come home from the hospital and was overwhelmed with two adorable little burrito bundles of screaming joy. One 4.5 pound loaf of bread of a guy, and one 5.5 pound jaundiced "Moose" who seemed so enormous next to his tiny brother. No preemie clothes. Just big, long onesies, my favorite two at the time being the rather small-sized newborn Babar onesies from France. Even newborn socks just hung off their feet like huge shoes. Now they're still tiny little things, but nonetheless tall enough to go on roller coasters, outgrowing their pants from last year.

Tonight was the smallish birthday party we had. Three families and one friend from down the street who is probably moving back to Connecticut. It was just enough and no more. We had a dual almost theme of Harry Potter and gnomes. I made a Voldemort pinata that I never did get a picture of before it was smashed to pieces with a baseball bat, and we had wizard hat cupcakes and a gnome party cake. Somehow, between cleaning and decorating cakes. it took me all day to prepare. I need a break now!

Walter is at Lego Machines and Robots camp in the mornings this week and geology camp in the afternoons. I don't hear much about what he does while he is there. It is at the Mathematics and Science Center, which is operated by a consortium of school districts in the area and takes place in an actual school. It's a cell-block sort of school with five wings, labeled A-E, and there are no interior doors--everything opens to the outside. Walter especially enjoys going to the bathrooms, lunchtime, the vending machines in the cafeteria, and fire drills. Sounds like school to me! For me, having him ready to go in the morning and with a lunch and two snacks packed is a lesson in how much of a challenge it would be to do this every day for most of the year. I have resorted to tiny bagged snacks so that there is minimal prep for me.

As I've noted in the past, he is very open to learning in a new environment. The first day he came home talking about metamorphic rocks, where at home he often is paying so little attention that he doesn't even know what continent he lives on. But then again, I really hear much, much more about who is working with whom, what mistakes other people made in their projects, the very exciting bathroom, and what other people had for lunch.

My summer started out looking so blank, so boring. Now here it is August already, and I feel like I've been continuously busy. We've gone nowhere--I mean, I've gone to the beach twice for a few hours and then come home, and we've been to Busch Gardens about 10 times, but other than that, no trips, no overnights, no vacations. I've spent every single night in my own bed. It's kind of interesting, and yet making me feel rather itchy to travel somewhere, anywhere. We do have a two day trip to Philadelphia planned for the second week of September, and then later that week we are going to South Carolina for five days for a family reunion (although except for my Dad, I've barely ever met anyone else who will be there), so there is something to look forward to. I guess I'm just looking for a break from the relentlessness of the daily life-with-a-toddler, which is so draining. I have been wondering, am I just coping especially poorly, but I've realized that this is the longest extended period, at least for quite a long time, when I've been the sole person in charge of just about everything having to do with keeping life going with all four kids. No relief when I have an appointment of some kind, an outing that isn't compatible with Rutledge, or need to run an errand that is going to be ten times harder and longer if I have to take everyone. I think the cumulative total of all of these things is wearing me out. I'm finding that I have to sit down some, especially after 5, and I kind of hit a wall more days than I used to. With more opportunities for a break, especially a break that allows me to accomplish something other than playing tennis, I'd probably be a little more patient with everyone and have a little more energy in general. But it looks like I'm just going to have to buck up and embrace the new reality and realize that Rutledge won't be this age forever and that the others certainly can't go on crying or screeching for hours. I'm going to have to figure out some way to stamp out the unattractive behaviors so that we can all coexist more peacefully.

We have listened to some good books in the car this week while spending so much time going to Mechanicsville to camp. We finished Wolf Brother, listened to Bridge to Terabithia, then another book about a dog by the same author, the 21 Balloons, and Anastasia Krupnik, which I found to be a very perceptive little book about children around the age of mine. It was quite a pleasant listen. Now we are listening to Tuck Everlasting, and I'm not sure how long this is going to last for us. Ollie didn't seem too into it, but we've only listened to about 1/3 of the first tape. Meanwhile, back at the ranch, we're not getting any further along in Harry Potter. And here I am writing here instead of reading there. At this rate, I'll never be done. Oh well.

Summer seems like it is slipping right away from me, and no matter how hard I try to "do nothing" these days, the days get full from morning until night. This morning was a tennis round robin, which meant barreling out the door with half-dressed, half-fed children at 8:45 to drop them off at Water Works and the nursery (which was shut down for part of last week with a staph infection and disinfection). I was fairly on this morning--great serving, funky second serve with unexpected spin, and good reflexes at the net. As soon as it was over, we hurried home so I could check my email to see if I needed to change my clothes and rush to a meeting at the Homeschool Place for the Advisory Committee. The meeting was postponed until this afternoon, so I gave the signal for the kids to vacate the car, and the next thing I knew, Rebecca was on the phone with worry in her voice because her period is perhaps several weeks late. Well, duh...take a test!!! Since she was hemming and hawing, I took the liberty of piling the kids back into the car to go buy her a test and take it to her, then stood by while she peed into a cup because she couldn't produce a stream for 5 seconds (it was negative...). Since I was there, I took the tour of her rearranged rooms, checked out her reorganized basement, and suddenly Frances was inviting herself to spend the night. What luck! Given that Frances has been having a rough time lately, it was nice for her to have something that was all about her all day long today. And an evening with one fewer child for me, not that it really slows down the pace any.

Finally I made it home, where Ollie and Walter and I cheated our way through a 500 piece puzzle. How do you cheat? You allow the vast chunks that were already together in the box to stay together. And hence you finish a puzzle in an hour. Then we set out to pick up Frances' bike, which was being repaired at Agee's, popped into gymnastics to give a list of dates she would be missing this summer so August could be prorated, and went to the meeting at the Homeschool Place. All through this, I had a barely controlled migraine, which only now is in remission thanks to an Imitrex sample I picked up from the doctor last week. Amazing, amazing stuff.

Tomorrow we don't have much on the docket. Perhaps going to the pool with some friends. Picking up Frances. Looking at a science book. And of course gymnastics. In the evening I have another tennis round robin. So I suppose tomorrow is full, isn't it?

I haven't had a chance to say much about the conference this past weekend. There were parts of the day that were energizing, even paradigm changing (the session on right-brained learners was especially good, even though I had in the past gone through checklists of traits of right-brained learners and determined that Walter fit all of the 'negatives' and none of the positives). But overall, it felt sparser than in past years and just lacked a certain energy and excitement. It kind of went through the motions. I felt a lack of connection with the other participants, of which I think there were fewer anyway than I'm used to. I'm not sure if the budget there is just stretched too thin to add more opportunities for networking and a larger vendor hall, or if there's just a certain anti-curricula bent that keeps tings at a kind of low level. At any rate, I didn't even get a chance to spend time among the vendors or at the used curriculum sale downstairs because I was either volunteering or attending a few sessions, and the next thing i knew I had bailed to go get margaritas with some friends, and it was over. I realize that I need to register my needs with the organizers as feedback and to let the organization know what I'd like to see next year; they claim to be member run, and I can't complain if I'm not giving them input in the first place.

Ollie and I are making steady progress on Harry Potter. The book has only been out three days, and while it makes me an adult failure to have not read it all by now, considering that we are reading aloud 100 or more pages a day, we're rather ambitious in our own way. Yeah, I want to know what happens, but at the same time, I'm getting to really savor the experience of the book in a way that I might not if I was just reading for information. I'm reading for inflection, expression, and performance! In good time, we'll also be among the initiated. All I have to do is avoid the other people in the world until such a time comes.

This evening I also seem to have volunteered to lead another class at the homeschool place. Hilary and I are going to do Story of the World together, starting in Volume 2, the Medieval World. I'm really excited about this. I realized tonight that I really do wish that I was doing more than was checking some things off our list for next year, things that I'd want to cover anyway and that aren't just extras. This fits the bill quite well, since we spend a lot of time either listening to or reading the books, but never seem to get around to the activities. This will be lots of fun, I'm sure.

I'm headed to bed, hoping for a halfway decent night's sleep. Last night was actually pretty good, for once. There were some wakings, but by and large they weren't memorable. And that's a good thing.

It feels like we live at Busch Gardens sometimes. I think this was our 8th or 9th visit this summer. And at least our second this week. Frances was decidedly wimpy today, even with the peer pressure of friends there. She rode nothing. I was too busy with Rutledge to give her no choice and deal with the fallout of that. So she rode her little kiddie rides and that was that. One day she will come into her own, I hope. But today was not one of her more mature days. She began with wetting her bed, proceeded with whining and crying throughout, and primarily rode rides designed for Rutledge. And we missed both tennis and gymnastics today, which is something that I will not be doing again any time soon (though with as sticky, nasty hot as it was today, I'm glad that I wasn't putting her in Richmond Olympiad for two hours). Overall, though, we had a very fun day without too much incident beyond not finding my car in the parking lot at the end of our visit.

My goal for tomorrow is to stay home. The pace of our schedule and my inability to say no to anything does not bode well for the school year. I'm not very good at marshaling the troops to get us out the door in the morning with all equipment, clothing, and food for an all-day marathon of disparate events. For days now, even a few weeks, it feels like I set out at 9 a.m. or before and don't return home until nearly 9 p.m., with half a dozen stops along the way. Exhausting. So even though we have opportunities tomorrow, we're going to hang out here.

I picked up a few new books at the library tonight, so I am off to do a bit of reading before my eyes roll back in my head.

I'm watching Bob Marley on Youtube, and I was remarking that it has to be hard to do a whole show when you're that high. I mean, I can't even go to Busch Gardens sober, or worse yet, have two sips of beer and not feel like I'm going to pass out and throw up during More Pet Shenanigans. And that's when it hit me what my problem is. I'm not going to Busch Gardens high. That's got to be up there with the oh so controversial three martini playdate that you read about in those goody goody mainstream parenting magazines. Four kids in a theme park alone with me; I'd call that an irresponsible venture under any circumstances.

Tonight was a dinner and dessert discussion with some people I know who are homeschooling older kids--middle and high school. Very, very enlightening. One of the most interesting things was that there was no mention of needing a solid support group, or even a support group at all. Most of their children are plenty plugged in with whatever it is they do--playing the harp, Boy Scouts, choirs, etc. And like with anything else, do you really need more than a couple of good friends? Do you really need a crowd. And even more energizing is the reiteration that we homeschool, that's what we do. Just as with school, or anything else in life, for that matter, there may be good years and less good years, years when math goes well and years when it isn't so great. But you keep moving along. There are no guarantees anywhere. I brought up the question of why so many people seem to send their children to school once they hit middle school or so. There were a couple of responses, including one I hadn't really thought of, which is that maybe after 12 or 13 years, many people are just ready for a break. Or the typical stresses of middle schoolers and teenagers may leave parents wanting to feel less solely responsible or wanting time out from some of the autonomy struggles. Since this still seems in the distant future to me, it hadn't crossed my mind to think about the challenges of extra power struggles...and trying to get in math and science.

I could spend all day watching Discovery and the History Channel. Imhotep is on right now. They are excavating a foot. The other night it was Loch Ness. Isn't it always Loch Ness?

I wish I had positive energy to write interesting posts these days. It's all I can do to stay awake. Perhaps tomorrow, another day, will bring fresh material.

So much for my uncluttered summer. This week is VBS for two children, tennis lessons for one, swim fun team for two, a birthday party, a spelling bee, a tennis clinic, and a double shot of gymnastics. I can barely keep my eyes open with exhaustion from having to often be in two or three places at one time.

Someone just described me as having an exciting life. How true is that? I mean really, I'm a stay at home Mom with a tennis addiction and an uneasy juxtaposition of not enough and too much time on my hands. I do some combination of teaching my children at home and watching them learn in the world while I sit back and ferry their bodies where they want to go to do this. And I retrieve my dogs from the woods across from us several times a day. I suppose it's all in how you describe what you do.

And when it all comes down, it is a pretty exciting life. There was the breath-holding, sweat-inducing, ice dripping down my bra and neck singles match yesterday. There was the grand challenge of taking two five year old girls to Wal-Mart tonight and having them babbling to each other, me, and the other shoppers in their made-up language while I ran over their feet an undisclosed number of times because they wouldn't stop darting in front of me. There's tomorrow, when we're planning to drive up to Wintergreen to watch an Eddie from Ohio concert and see some fireworks. There was the non-child-friendly Thai hot chili stir-fry on the rice noodles tonight that we served to seven children, at least three of whom practically turned inside out. There are the 18 semi-melted orangesicles in the garage freezer because I had to take a friend home and then stop at Blockbuster instead of going straight home after I had been grocery shopping. The book group with 8 7-10 year old boys in it. And the used mattress I'm supposed to pick up from a friend tomorrow so that the twins will finally have something on their top bunk. I guess you can't really argue that it's not dull.

I'm in love with our screened porch. I read out here. I type out here. I blog out here. I spend time with the kids out here. I escape the freezing cold air-conditioned house out here. It's a place that positively reeks of my dogs (and features them as a visual element, since they love it more than I do) and gathers clutter like you wouldn't believe (yard stuff, nature table stuff, candles, sand toys, dirty dishes). But it's warm, cozy, and feels set apart from the rest of life.

I'm reading the Memory Keeper's Daughter, and right now I can barely put it down. I just started it this afternoon, and it's noteworthy that I am even able to start a book at this point in my life. Ollie and I finished Harry Potter 5 yesterday and started on the sixth book, but between reading aloud to him and cleaning up at the end of the day and general exhaustion from getting up too early to play tennis almost every day, I don't find a lot of leftover time for my own pursuits. I need to change that somehow. It's back to the old question of what you *don't* do in order to enable yourself to have time to accomplish the things that you *do* do.

I had a conversation with several different people today about what is different about next year from previous years that it just feels so...complicated and necessary to be planning right now for the fall. And my response is that it's because (a) there are more people to plan for--Frances is a real entity who is a full participant in many of the activities and (b) there really are more offerings for homeschoolers these days. There's the Homeschool Place, for one. But there are also just more organized activities and ones that are asking for a commitment or a reserved space...NOW. It went from art class being a drop-in with potential times on M, W, F. Then last year we sort of asked if the teacher would do a class just for our five families at a regular time each week. And now it feels like we have to reserve the spot and the time now to be insured it's going to be there for us and that it fits in our schedule, which of course means that we have to figure out what our schedule is in the first place, which leads back to the realization that IT IS JUNE!! Not August, not September, not even a full month from when the last "school" year ended, but early summer, when we're theoretically supposed to be on break. The best I can say is, it cannot be helped. Here we are, so we have to go with it.

I am going to sign off and return to my reading before the sleepover erupts again or I find myself being awoken by the crying of another person's child at 2 a.m.