We are Number ZERO!!!!

YES!  Long awaited news from our adoption agency this morning!  We topped the waitlist and our file is now being sent to the region in Colombia where Zaza is waiting for us!  Whooooo HOooooooo!  We should have a referral in 30-60 days!  With pictures… and her real name… and pictures… and sizes… and medical info… and pictures!  I’m thrilled! (to say the absolute least!)  This means we will travel in late Oct. or more likely November!  She’ll be home for Christmas!!!  Another stocking hung by the fire with care.  Another Precious Moments Christmas ornament to buy and hang on the tree!  Another little angel home for Christmas!  Another place setting at the dinner table… little size 4 panties in the wash!  Oh, I can’t believe we are so close now!  Finally, I can buy ruffles and bows again! 

I know it’s a little wierd, but my secret hope is that she will still have all her baby teeth… even at five years old.  We have missed out on so much so far, but I trust the Lord will restore what has been taken and bless all our years ahead.  At least in my heart I know that we have prayed faithfully for Zaza for the last four years.

With this great joyous news came fear and trembling too.  Oh,… my….. word!  This November it will be four long years that we have awaited Zaza’s homecoming.  But now that it is actually here, it is a little frightening!  So much to do!  So much to do!  My mind will have a hard time focussing on anything else now for the next four months!

That Magic Moment

When my son started homeschooling at five-years-old, with me as his highly qualified and trained teacher, I came to the realization that all kids are not created equal.  Some are special.  Some are wild.  Some are funny.  Some are charming.  Some aren’t ready for school even if they are five-years-old.  I’m quite the determined individual and figured that I would do just fine teaching the children God gave me.  After several months of working on the letter F…. without any retention or even slight recognition… I realized my son was not ready to read (or name letters.)  Just for curiosity’s sake, I counted in my daily planner the number of days I had shown him the letter F.  It was 62.  It was like the letter F was new every morning…. just like God’s mercy.  Not good if your goal is reading before grade eight. 

We took a year off from trying to name the letter F.  It was a fun year of frivolity and favorite games.  We played football and frisbee and had foot races.  Then when my son was seven, I showed him this funny squiggly mark with two lines and told him that it was the letter F.  He said, “F”.  It made my heart glad.  The next day…. without me telling him… he pointed and said “F”.  :o)  See!  My teaching certificate was working its wonders.  That year he slowly learned the sounds the letters make…. uncompromisingly slowly.  But reading the letters when they were all lined up was foreign to him.  I diligently pressed on.  We sounded out every Bob book written.  I even made sight word flashcards with neatly formed letters….. but retention was out of our grasp.

When my son was nine, my husband was injured and had four months off work while his Achille’s Tendon healed inside a large black boot.  We took advantage of the time off and travelled the Western USA and visited 18 National Parks.  Since it was January through April, we did take our math books along with us in the van and worked our numbers on cookie sheets while we travelled.  Carschool!  I read aloud to the children and we listened to many books on tape: Rascal, Misty of Chincoteague, and The Twits.  Great pieces of literature that held our interest and kept us spellbound for hours.  But we did not do reading, or phonics or sight-word flashcards.  I needed a break too for goodness sake. 

We arrived home from that trip and to my surprise, delight and utter joy, my nine-year-old son could read.  Maybe he hit his head on a stalactite in New Mexico…. frankly, I don’t know what happened, nor do I care.  But something clicked, he could read… and it had nothing to do with me or my outstanding teaching ability.  I wondered how many hours I wasted on the letter F.

So my advice to homeschooling mothers with non-readers is this: hike into some caves, drive through some trees, fish in streams, count cacti arms, watch sage brush blow through fort ruins and climb a few ladders to cave dwellings.  It worked for me and my son.

Quads are Not Just for Boys

We returned home on Thursday night from a ten-day quadding adventure that would make most children quiver with glee.  It sure gave my kids plenty of thrills.  My daughter is 16 and drives, so the excitement of speed is not really doing it for her on a quad.  But my boys are 13 and 11 and I think this was the most fun they’ve had …… (thinking)…. EVER.  Their first motorized experience.  WOW!

Larisa flying through the air with the greatest of ease.  Even though my daughter and I rode the four-wheelers, it’s not really our cup of tea.  I’m down with speed and the thrill of a bumpy uphill trail…. but the dust and grime I could certainly do without.  Every article of clothing from each person from each quad trip had to be washed immediately.  I wouldn’t even let the kids sit on the wooden kitchen chairs in filthy clothing!  The cloud of dust following each child reminded me of PigPen from Peanuts.

See how much fun you can have accessorizing a quad?  Helmet, gloves, bandana, clothing.  It really does meet some feminine needs.

The county road out to our meadow with trails requires a “street legal” driver… so I was sequestered into getting dirty two different times.  I’m the good mom.  I complied.  But after riding with their “living-on-a-prayer” father, the boys didn’t sincerely relish riding on the quad with me.  What’s up with that?!?  We have been Emergency Room free for over 18 months now!  That is a record for our family and I plan to keep it that way.

Both boys have decided that they are now saving their “car” money for a quad.  Whatever.  They looked up used quads on Craigslist and eBay withing minutes of being home from vacation.  This will take a LOT of lemonade stands, I’m telling ya’ what!

Home Again Home Again (too tired to jiggety-jig)

Yes, I’m home.  Home and tired.  Tired and glad to be home.  Why did I think that I could do 3 weeks on the west coast, 2 days at home, 4 days camping, one day at home, 10 days at a cabin in the woods, then two days of homeschool convention….. in a row???  I’m so tired even I’M eating cereal for dinner.  Usually that’s reserved for those who can’t cook.

My calendar is basically empty until school starts the end of August… with a few exceptions…. luncheons with several friends whom I’ve neglected in the past months…. two homeschool planning meetings…. and a five-day visit from a college friend with her family.  That is pretty empty for me.  With all those empty boxes on the calendar… (you knew I couldn’t sit still!).. I’ve decided the walls in the kitchen, family room, downstairs hall, upstairs hall and loft need a fresh coat of paint.  Really.  They are quite disgusting.  They were white five years ago.  Mr. Clean Magic Eraser has worn through to the gray layer of sheet rock.  It’s time.  And I have all these willing slaves helpers lying around.  Perfect!

Since I’m planning on painting… why not redecorate too???  I’m not buying new furniture, although I would love to, let’s move all this heavy furniture around and around a few times.  Just for fun!  I do want to add some color to the family/kitchen area.  And I’ve never done cute valances in the family room.  I’m thinking paint, fabric, pillow forms….maybe some framed Greek ocean photos… and I’ll have a new oasis for under $150. 

I already have “before” pictures taken.  So I’ll keep you up on the transformation of the Crosby’s drab living situation. 

On your marks.  Get set.  GO!

My Political Post for 2010

Today was the first day of the homeschool convention here in Phoenix.  The exciting thing this year is that I get to go to seminars instead of working in a booth.  I’ve been in the Konos booth for 6 or 7 years now, but they aren’t doing conventions any more.  Sad but true.

(Photo from  www.focusonlinecommunities.com)

Anyway, the first session was power packed:  State Senator John Huppenthal, Governor Jan Brewer (of immigration fame), Senator John McCain (the 5th Arizonian to not win the presidency), and my personal favorite, Michael Farris.  Those who aren’t submerged in the homeschool world might not recognize that last one.  He is an attorney with the Home School Legal Defence Alliance (or Association… or another A….).  He’s also a dad of ten kids.  Yes, you read that right.  TEN.  My hat’s off to him for that point alone.  He’s a lawyer with a great sense of humor who entertained and enlightened us this morning.  But it gets better. 

(Disclaimer:  I might not have all the details totally accurate, but please get the gist of this.)  The UN has a new-ish treaty that they are trying to get all the UN countries to sign called the Rights of the Child.  It is pretty well a sure thing that our president would sign this document before his term is up.  (Notice I didn’t say termS.)  Up front it sounds all nice and fair for children, but it is not.  It would not only undermine the autonomy of the USA but also the authority of the family.  I learned all this today at the homeschool convention… amidst several thousand like-minded individuals who don’t take kindly to governments telling us what to do with our children. 

Mr. Farris has written Senate Resolution 519 (Here is the text, in case you’re interested: http://www.opencongress.org/bill/111-sr519/text )  Mainly it states that the primary safeguard for the well-being and protection of children is the family, and that the primary safeguards for the legal rights of children in the United States are the Constitutions of the United States and the several States (plus WAY more).

I did not realize that if this resolution has 34 co-sponsors in the Senate, this treaty could never be voted on by President Obama.  I just assumed that he would vote according to his socialist beliefs and we would suffer the consequences… again.  But 34 senators can say, “We will not support this” and it freezes the vote.    This is also why the Founding Fathers, who would be shocked and dismayed at the state of the union, put a clause in the Constitution to separate the USA from other countries.  Brilliant.  For such a time as this.

The AZ senators are already co-sponsors, among (I think) 27 others.  So I can’t do any calling to senatorial offices.  But if you live outside of Arizona and don’t want President Obama giving away your right to parent your child according to your beliefs, please find out if your senators are co-sponsors of Sen. Res. 519…. and encourage them to be sponsors!  Be American and contact your representatives!

Ok, My Sister’s Jar will be back to fluff and nonsense, and vacation pictures, and drivel tomorrow.

Her Mother’s Hope…….{sigh}

Once again, I’m not impressed with Francine River’s latest book, Her Mother’s Hope. I didn’t like Leota’s Garden either. But I LOVED Redeeming Love… it was set in the West in the 1850s…. See!?! Both Leota or Her Mother are from the 1900s. I need to stick to my first love…. dusty log homes, wagon trains, well water, chicken coops, petticoats, homemade everything, treadle sewing machines, quiet nights reading by the fire, fishing in the stream, kitties in the barn, vegetable gardens, country church and mobile library busses. Sweet mercy!

Her Mother’s Hope is frustrating for me to get through because of the hopelessness, the arguing between Mama and Papa and the mistreatment of the children. Sure, sure, life is not all wild roses and ice cream socials…. but I’d rather read about wild roses and ice cream socials. I’m sure Francine’s work is historically accurate with WWI, how the different races were treated, and the sinking of the Titanic, but I need more fluff and nonsense to hold my attention. Surprising since I’m not a fluff and nonsense person in real life.

The two main characters, Marta and her daughter Hildemara, are so not like me…. or like each other. I don’t relate to (or tolerate) being a doormat or an independent married woman who makes huge purchases without talking to her husband. I also don’t prefer books where I don’t know how to pronounce the names of the main characters… Hildemara’s siblings are Rikka, Clotilde and Bernhard. Ok, I get Bernhard. In my mind I keep reading Hildie and Cloe.

And of course, it’s a L…o….n….g book. 483 pages of hardship and suffering. I’m on page 262 and I’m not anticipating a happy ending. I just noticed in the last pages that the sequel, Her Daughter’s Dream, will be available fall 2010. Yippy skippy. I may skippy it all together.

Allison Pittman’s new book, Bridegroom, is on hold for me at the library right now. She is my current favorite author. She adds spice and details that I appreciate. Please keep ‘em coming, Allison!

What Do I Do All Day???

I’ve just finished reading a book titled Whirlwind by Cathy Marie Hake that was a delight. I’ve read a few other creative works of hers: Letter Perfect and Forevermore. The library happened to have one more of her books, Fancy Pants, which I’ll read next. Her books that I’ve consumed have all been set roughly in the late 1800’s, my favorite time in history… well, for Christian Western romance and the like. I’m drawn to the West, Manifest Destiny, small towns and all that is tangled up in them. It’s my escape from laundry, dishes and dusting. Someday I hope to write them.

That period of time was not encumbered by electronics, high-tech communication or even air travel. It was simply simpler. I’m a simpler-loving individual. Why play video games when you can escape in a piece of quality literature? I’ll admit, I would miss blogging, but I remember the thrill of writing long letters to distant friends. They usually took on the tone or dialect of my last reading adventure. I loved writing them… and receiving them. Hand written letters are sadly a momento of the past. The mailbox doesn’t have the pull it used to…. now full of junk mail and ads for cable TV and epoxied garage floors.

We don’t have television in our home. We have a TV but only for movies and the wii. Our trip to a mountain cabin with cable TV recently re-confirmed all the reasons we do not have connection at our home. I haven’t really sat down and watched TV in years…. and in those years, it has sadly gone WAY downhill, in my humble opinion. I could not believe the teenage pregnancy shows, the cops shows, the sexy abs shows, the extreme wrestling wearing almost nothing, and dance your (blank) off. Good grief. What happened to Little House on the Prairie and Mork and Mindy? I’m not even used to the constant noise of the TV and it drove me out to the patio more than once.

We received a call from Cox Communication recently trying to sell us the third part of their “triple bundle”….. TV. We use them (unhappily) for internet access and phone. The kind man told me of his discovery that we do not have their money-saving deal of the triple-bundle. I said I was aware of that fact. He explained how much money we could save lumping in cable. I said I was not interested in spending money on something we do not use. He didn’t get it. I think he assumed we were with another cable company. I stated that we do not watch TV…. several times. Each time he would compare the Cox price of the triple bundle to other companies. Finally after a moment of silence he flabbergastedly asked, “What do you do if you don’t watch TV?” Hahahahaha. “I talk on the phone to cable salesmen.” Are we really THAT unusual? Maybe we are… it just seems normal to us.

　

Going Into Town

Where are currently staying is a 20 minute drive into town…. Walmart, Barnes & Noble, Taco Bell and Home Depot. We don’t have internet access at the cabin, so I’ve brought my laptop to B&N for short and sweet hook-up times.

We dropped into Home Depot earlier for some needed toilet parts and unbeknownst to us, torrential rain started while we shopped. We were all sporting t-shirts, flip-flops, shorts/capris without umbrellas as it was 90 degrees outside. Larisa and I waited in the exit doorway while Rick and Keeve ran to the van. The rain intensified while we waited and the much to our amusement, Home Depot people were frantically covering outdoor displays that were obviously not waterproof. Rick couldn’t get close to the door so he pointed back at the loading dock area. Larisa and I made our way over there, somewhat dryly and were picked up in style. We proceeded to drive two blocks away to a grocery store…. covered by clear skies. Arizona storms amaze and amuse me.

My dad introduced to me his summer specialty beverage at Starbucks: green tea frappaccino with peppermint and mocha chips. It tastes like Grasshopper Ice Cream with all the benefits of green tea. Yum! Much to mine and my father’s dismay, the B&N in Flagstaff is not a fully stocked, peppermint participating Starbucks AND it doesn‘t accept Starbucks cards. Sheesh. As I ordered my relished drink, the non-masculine fellow proceeded to tell me that they don’t serve peppermint. At all. Then he asked if I wanted whipped cream on my plain ordinary green tea frap. I answered nicely, “No, I’m not having a green tea frap anymore, because you wrecked it by not having peppermint.” Keeve proceeded to order and the guy asked him to repeat his name so he could write it on the cup. I spelled it, out of habit, because it is such an unusual name. The guy barked in his soft, lispy voice, “I know how to spell it!” I didn’t comment, but the line on the tip of my tongue was, “Wow! The first person in the world that knows how to spell KEEVE!” He misspelled Larisa’s name and just as I was leaving the counter, he added with charm, “What a cute purse!” Wow! As soon as we were out of earshot, Larisa mocked, “What a cute purse!” It is a cute purse… with cherries all over it and tan straps and corners… my friend Connie gave it to me and I love it. But GAH! Man-up, brother.

We are going back into town again, but I spied a real, stand-alone Starbucks that we will be stopping at to acquire peppermint drinks before our trip into B&N for internet access. This time I’m taking my umbrella.

Take Me Home, Country Roads

Our trip to Bountiful has proved to be much more of an adventure than I was prepared for. For ten days we are relishing in the somewhat cool mountain air twenty miles south of Flagstaff at Munds Park in Northern Arizona. Yes, it’s still been 90 degrees but that is a welcome luxury compared to the 115’s of Phoenix. Can’t say that I’m missing home right now. At all. I thought for a moment… and it’s true. Not at all.

Reading, sewing, relaxing, game playing and napping were all high on my list for this trip. I did manage to accomplish the finishing touches of one Bag for Zaza while here, and I’ve started the hand-embellished fancies for a cute little girl’s denim purse. One book down, two to go. Game playing has picked up with the arrival of the game-obsessed family members. :o) Naps have been plentiful as well. What I didn’t account for was the toll on my poor body.

Ice cream sandwiches were calling our names from the country store, so we ventured off for the 1.5 mile walk down the hill….. knowing the ice cream sandwiches would be a necessary fuel for the crawl back up the hill. Only ten or twelve houses down the sidewalk-less street, I noticed my 11-year-old son skid on some gravel. One house later there was a cement driveway covered in small black stones and I told the kids, “This is the kind of rocks that slip easily on pavement…..” and then I proceeded to demonstrate just how easy it was to slide on the small stones. My left leg slid down the hill and I gracefully, in slow motion, went down as my right knee kissed the gravel. Blood followed. Ouch! And drat it all, I ripped a hole in my favorite black Capri pants! We turned around and hiked back to the cabin to find the well equipped first aid box. Ouch! Ice cream sandwiches were calling more loudly at that point… so we drove down.

This cabin comes fully stocked with two quads for offroading adrenaline rushes. Helmets, goggles, gloves, etc. etc. etc. My husband and I took our eldest and youngest out for a tromp through the pine trees. We took turns riding and driving and bumping along the not-so-smooth paths. I knew I would be sore the next day simply from holding on! One particular tromp, my 16-year-old daughter was driving and I was on the back, holding on for dear life. Now I understand the phrase “holding on for dear life.” Anyway, we somehow got off the trail and were making our way through virgin forest when she spontaneously ducked to avoid being stabbed by tree branches…. and I did not. Just below my right collar-bone a branch stabbed me and I screamed out. No blood followed, but I do have a highly tender spot, a quality bruise with some good scratch marks. Ouch! Quadding is the dirtiest sport I’ve participated in throughout my entire life, I’m quite certain.

We have five more days of cool mountain air. I’m praying that I make it out alive. (I refrained from sharing my “slam my head into the A-frame beam story” …. but it did bring tears to my eyes.)

(New bag up for auction at www.BagsForZaza.wordpress.com!)

The Majestic Bald Eagle (among other vacation detours)

The boys came back from a Woods Canyon Lake fishing excursion to tell tall tales of a bald eagle that swooped down not far from them and snatched a big fish from the lake.  A bigger fish than the only fish the boys caught.  They were quite impressed!  I was also quite impressed!  Seeing our national symbol in action is not witnessed by most Americans.

The following day we ventured on a five-mile hike around the same lake that lured the bald eagle for din-din.  We were told it is a fairly level hike and would take us approximately two hours.  Good. 

Just like every other trip this summer, we came upon a detour.  Come to find out, there was a pair of bald eagles who nested at the north end of the lake and there were two ten-week-old eaglets who were approaching fledgling time.  We were standing on the side of the lake, looking through the bright orange plastic fencing at the level path that meandered under the eagle’s nest.  Then we followed the bright orange fencing as it went up the certainly-not-level hill and disappeared into the forest…. a government issued detour.  I told the bright orange fence guard that this is all because of Nacho Libre and the power from the eagle eggs.  I even quoted in my best Mexican accent, “The eagle eggs and a lie, Stephen.  A lie!”  But he didn’t get it… and wouldn’t let us stay on the level path.

The lake is at 7,500 feet elevation where the air is thin, oxygen is depleted, and I was weary looking at the detour.  Of course we took the detour.  No stupid bird was going to keep us from hiking the lake!  As I huffed and puffed up the hill…. longing for wildflowers to photograph to make it look like I didn’t need to stop every eight feet…. I kept thinking of Benjamin Franklin.  Yes, homeschool moms are like that.  My thoughts kept wondering and wandering to the fact that if Ben had his way, and the turkey was the national symbol, we wouldn’t be detoured and climbing a hill at 7,500 feet. 

Here were Ben’s thoughts on the Eagle, “I wish that the bald eagle had not been chosen as the representative of our country, he is a bird of bad moral character, he does not get his living honestly, you may have seen him perched on some dead tree, where, too lazy to fish for himself, he watches the labor of the fishing-hawk, and when that diligent bird has at length taken a fish, and is bearing it to its nest for the support of his mate and young ones, the bald eagle pursues him and takes it from him…. Besides he is a rank coward; the little kingbird, not bigger than a sparrow attacks him boldly and drives him out of the district. He is therefore by no means a proper emblem for the brave and honest. . . of America.. . . For a truth, the turkey is in comparison a much more respectable bird, and withal a true original native of America . . . a bird of courage, and would not hesitate to attack a grenadier of the British guards, who should presume to invade his farmyard with a red coat on.”

The eagle nest was very impressive… three feet wide, three feet deep and five feet long.  The nests weigh about 2,000 pounds.  WOW!  We saw the fledglings flapping their wings and hopping about.  The kind government eagle-nest-watchers had scopes set up for us to view the nest in all its grandeur.  We learned that their heads don’t turn white until they are five years old…. and that is when they mate.  God figured it all out!  A way to stop teenage-bald-eagle-pregnancy before it started.  IF THEIR HEAD IS STILL BROWN, THEY AREN’T READY FOR KIDS!  Brilliant!

(This blog was typed in the Fletcher’s Tire waiting room at 8:30 am… by the time you read this, we will have new tires and be on our way up north!)