A Homeschooling Mom’s Nightmare

First let me add the back story.  Our daughter was coming home from college and we had to get her little brother moved out of her room and back in the big bedroom he shares with his brother.  They are 14 and 16. After the 14-year-old’s paraphernalia was removed, I dusted, vacuumed and made her bed for her.

As I was working I heard my eldest son trying to talk his brother into moving into the loft for the summer.  It went something like this: “It will be so cool!”  “You will love it!”  “We’ll move the bookshelves and it will be private!”  “I will help you!”  “Let’s go ask mom.”  The 14 year-old wasn’t saying much as he moved his stuff back down the hall.  They came.  They begged.  I am still on narcotics from the car accident two months ago.  I am in no state of mind to be making life-altering decisions…. like giving up the homeschool/sewing loft at 11 p.m. thankyouverymuch.  I told them I didn’t care.  And I didn’t. And I went to bed.

Fast forward two and a half hours to a metal wheel sound waking me up in the dark of the night.  Yes, it was 1:30 a.m.  I stared at the ceiling and told my husband, “This is all my fault.  That noise…. it’s a pulley.  I taught him how to use pulleys about 7 years ago.”  We got out of bed to witness THIS:

Our 16-year-old son had made himself a castle… in the loft…. way past midnight… with a drawbridge (run with a pulley that hung from a bike hook screwed into the ceiling) …. and crenals and merlons cut from cardboard.  It WAS SO COOL that he decided to move in himself.  I shook my head in dismay and confessed to my husband that I also taught him about castles…. and crenals and merlons.  I asked my creative son what we should call him now.  Obviously he replied, “King Austin!”  Of course.  Silly me.

The next morning, I questioned how long he planned to live in his castle.  He looked at me with hopeful eyes and answered with a question, “All summer??????”  Those were his big blue puppy dog eyes staring at me.  Fine.  Whatever.  “You will be patching the hole in the ceiling in August.”  “O.k., thanks, mom.”

This could have been worse, I told myself as I climbed back into bed.  I’ve also taught him about catapults, guillotines, war trenches and fur trappers.  Oh, it could have been WAY worse.

 

Hello, My Name is Linda

Yes, this is another blog relating the to car accident that I unwillingly participated in 3 1/2 weeks ago.  A deep fog has permeated my brain for three weeks leaving me wondering what my childrens’ names are, grasping for common words like “ride” and “sit”, and feeling vulnerable and alone.  Yes, it is drugs.  Yes, I’ve written about this before when I was on narcotics for tooth pain.  I had forgotten the lonely drug induced blanket that wraps itself around your neck for days on end.  Finally, when I was thinking homeschooling was pretty well done for the year (with two more months to go) I went to visit my doctor.  Sorry, pupils.

Typically I am an in-control woman.  Administration is one of my gifts, as well as teaching, organizing and being sarcastic.  But I could do none of those while the blanket hugged me like a scratchy wool scarf.  Sitting on the tissue papered table at the physician’s office, I tried to explain in my not-usually-wobbly-voice that I am on an involuntary emotional roller coaster because of the drugs.  My voice never wobbles.  But it wobbled woefully.  “I need to gain control of my life again,” I feebly explained.  “Is there a pain medication that conquers pain but doesn’t leave people in this fog?”  And there is.  Thank God!  It’s in a 3-day patch that transdermally inputs the drug into your system at a consistently controlled rate.  No more roller coastering for me, baby.

I am now addicted to a little 3/4″ x 1″ plastic patch.  And I’m okay with that.  I was missing me.  I’m partially back.  Doing simple tasks like showering or making waffles are still followed up with a two hour nap.  But I’m okay with that too.  I know my limits.  It’s two outings per day… only twice or three times per week.  More than that and I break out in a sweat.

Hope returned yesterday when I broke out the botany text book and decided school would be underway once again.  It will be more self-guided than teacher-ruled, as is my persuasion.  Flowers and pollination will be devoured by my little busy bees for the next few weeks.  I even found an activity requiring powdered donuts to demonstrate cross-pollination.  Homeschooling rocks…. or blooms in this case.

“Why I Love Nature” by Linda Ann Crosby

With the sun shining and the temperatures in the comfort zone, we have been spending far more time outside in March than in December, January and February combined.  Nature Journals have been forced upon my children and one out of three is loving it.  That’s pretty good odds… and I love it, so we’re even Steven.  I’m trying to teach them about botany, art, relaxing and creating in God’s creation.  You’d think a kid who doesn’t have to sit indoors and do math would jump at the chance to draw in the sunshine.  But no. If my boys ever lie on those long black leather couches and explain how I ruined them, I’m sure the Nature Journals will be mentioned.  But that does not deter me.  :o)

Last week we ventured out the front door to draw a Texas Ebony tree in our yard.  This is a REAL Nature Journal… not a fake Nature Journal… so there are rules to be followed.  AND this has to count for a botany grade for a high school student.  Not like a “draw-a-dumb-tree-and-color-it-green” journal.  NOOOOooooooo.  The requirements include, but are not limited to: draw the shape of the tree, the bark, the leaves, the leaf arrangement, the thorns (we’re in Arizona… all the trees have thorns), the flowers, the seeds, the pods.  And when you have all that drawn with exact measurements beside each, the leaves need to have their shape, venation and margin analyzed and recorded.  SEE?!  Not your average lame Nature Journal.

So, after the Texas Ebony had been admired from afar, with a magnifying glass and everything in between, we gathered around the kitchen table and I asked to see the renderings.   Three of four were identifiable.  The fourth tree, however, was ……  …….  interesting.  I questioned said artist, “If I gave your picture to Dad and sent him to the front yard, could he locate the Texas Ebony?” (We only have three trees in the front yard.)  “Probably not.”  “Go try again, son.”

And the nature loving just keeps on rolling here at L.A.K.E. Academy, a homeschool where gifted children thrive…. whether they want to or not.  heh heh heh.

President’s Day 2013

On any holiday that is not Christmas and Easter, my homeschooling students ask if they get the day off.  We do take off each of their birthdays, and MINE, obviously!  But Valentine’s Day is not a day off.  Neither is Groundhog’s Day nor the first day of any season….nor the equinox of the moon… nor any eclipse.  Nor the first day the NHL starts again after a strike.  However, President’s Day was granted as a day off IF the kids could recite the entire list of the presidents of the United States.  Didn’t even have to be in order.

We have a handy dandy Presidents of the United States place mat that re-arrived on the table during breakfast this morning, being that it IS President’s Day.  (Remember when we used to get off Lincoln AND Washington’s birthdays?)  None of my pupils have given their recitation of the country’s leaders as of yet… 2:48 p.m.

My 9-year-old was fascinated with all the “funny looking” men.  She asked how many of them I knew personally.  Um… none.  Then she asked if I was alive with George Washington.  Um… no.  “So how many have you been alive for?”  Good question. I took a gander at the place mat.  Nine.  I have been alive for nine presidents.

How many presidents have you been alive for?

 

Wonderful Winter Weather

Last Friday at homeschool park day the moms FROZE in our chairs!  It was so windy and cold!  Well, for Phoenix, that is.  It wasn’t windy at our house when we left, but 10 minutes later when we pulled into the park we hoped and prayed there were jackets in the back of the van.  Thankfully, I found one for myself… my son’s hockey jacket from 5 years ago… when he was 11.  No, it didn’t exactly fit, but I was able to zip it up and block the blustery cold out.  It fit quite like a wetsuit.  A wetsuit that is too small.

The wind blew and blew for the two hours we were huddled with arms folded tightly in the sunshine.  One of my sons kept asking me, “Mom, do you know what your hair looks like?”  I could see my shadow and knew it was an amusing shape… and ever-changing shape.  “Mom, did you do your hair this morning?”  “Mom, you should really go look at your hair.”  There was nothing I could do, so I didn’t bother.  For some strange reason, my 14-year-old son was extremely concerned about my hair… and my image.  Maybe it was HIS image???

Yesterday was park day again. Imagine that!  Friday just keeps happening over and over.  Prepared for wind gusts of 50+mph, I donned a sweat suit with jacket and LOTS of hairspray.  Lo and behold, winter ended in Phoenix.  It was 74* F with sunny skies and not a trace of a breeze.  Yesterday was also the day the moms play flag football with the kids… and lose miserably, I might add.  I couldn’t even keep my jacket on sitting still because it was so warm.  After playing football for ten minutes I was frying, looking for my water and a shady spot to collapse.

Spring has sprung.  The air is warm, the flowers are blooming.  God, please let spring last more than ten days this year!!!  Please!!!

RECESS!

Today we were having a bonafide homeschool debate between the evolutionists and the creationists.  Sadly, the creationists needed a bit more evidence and hard facts to substantiate their beliefs.  Despite a few deficiencies in preparation, there was deep discussion and questioning to be had.  We are studying the Grand Canyon and I was absolutely appalled at how the THEORY of evolution is presented as fact on so many websites….. primarily run by the government.  Sadly true.

Anyway, at the end of the debate the kids asked what activity we were doing next and I replied, “RECESS!”  A cheer rose up from seven of our eight pupils…. and then one little Colombian questioned, “What’s recess?”  Uproarious laughter followed.  Too funny, the things we take for granted in our knowledge of “real” school.  I’m all about this fake schooling because I am learning SO MUCH!

Several years ago, my son, who didn’t read until he was NINE years old, asked what school they would go to if anything ever happened to me.  I teared up thinking that my bright boy who was years ahead in math and science would have been labeled and most likely put in special education had he attended school.  Knowing how wiggly he is, I told him, “You wouldn’t like school, honey.  You have to sit in a desk ALL day long!”  His clear blue eyes widened and he whispered in awe, “You get a DESK?!?”  Nope, he had never seen the inside of a classroom before!

Long live homeschooling!  Poobah Poobah!

Nine More Days

My husband of 25.5 years and myself will leave our home on January 4, 2013 with a van stuffed full of college paraphernalia and our firstborn child…. to just drop her off in Oklahoma and run for the border.  It’s a first for our family.  Children leaving the nest.  Much preparation, turmoil, tears and rejoicing have gone into this event.  Way more turmoil than I originally anticipated for a college departure.

There are nine more days to teach her everything she needs to know for infinity and beyond.  That is the key right there that keeps me from losing it… again.  Infinity and beyond is what really matters.  Kingdom thinking.  Have we prepared our daughter (the one who once asked for scotch tape and a box of envelopes for Christmas) to love God and serve people?  That people are more important than things?  To build others up and give a helping hand?

Yes, she plowed through algebra and ancient world history… but that is knowledge and not necessarily wisdom.  Wisdom is what matters in life.  Proverbs says that we should seek after wisdom and that it is found in those who take advice.  And wisdom will save you from the ways of wicked men.

Yes, she can effectively run a household, hold down a job and save money… but it is her heart that matters.  Getting to this point with child number one has helped me focus with children numbers 2,3 and 4.  They will also make it through algebra and ancient world history… but I need to be an example of love to them no matter the circumstances.

My firstborn daughter and I watched Les Miserables in the theater in Mission, B.C., Canada last night.  My favorite line was “To love another person is to see the face of God.”  A GREAT movie to see before heading off to college.

(I can do this. I can do this.  I can do this.)

Kings Canyon Camping Episode 4: RACCOON RECONNAISSANCE

After the rain puddled under the boy’s tent, they were invited into the tent trailer with all seven of us girls.  Two came; one decided the van was a better option.  Fine.  Freeze your buns off, Superman.  And most cyclists sleep with their bikes, right?

As the sun slid behind the trees and the darkness of night emerged, Austin was making his car cave cozy.  The back hatch of the van was open as he was arranging and reorganizing camping paraphernalia.  After walking over to the fire area for a while he went back to the van and saw something move on his sleeping bag.  Immediately assuming it was a prank by his brother, he said, “Keeve, what are you doing?”  Then the raccoon jumped out and my strong and brave 16-year-old man child screamed like a girl.  Well, a girl with a low voice.  The varmint left…. temporarily.  Later I noticed the boy’s tent was still unzipped and went to remedy the situation.  There were muddy raccoon paw prints all over the sleeping mats.  Great.

Thankful for my athletic ability and throwing accuracy, I could generally make contact with a pineapple size pine cone and a raccoon, but they still came back!  GAH!  And after the first two nights, I was no longer an animal activist.  I had turned into an NRA fanatic…. without the gun.  We piled ammo next to our camping chairs.  The question became: How many times does a coon need to be hit in the head with a pine cone before he doesn’t return?  The answer: we never found out.  More than six or seven.

Nora sat in her chair by the fire pleading, “Please don’t throw things at the raccoons.  I want to see one.  I have never seen a whole raccoon.  Please don’t throw pine cones, Mom. I want to see the body.  Stop scaring them away. I have NEVER seen a whole raccoon. Just wait till I see it ALL, then throw stuff.”  Good grief, child. That is what the zoo is for!

Night #3 it was me against the critters.  The youngest six children were bedded down.  The other mama and two eldest were gone washing dishes.  I piled my cones next to me and sat by the fire waiting.  It took about three minutes before I turned and saw a large striped bandit hauling away a backpack that had been left out.  I bombarded him and screamed bloody murder.  Six giggling children could be heard in the trailer.  Sheesh.  He dropped the back pack, but made off with a plastic bag of something.  I grabbed the pack and threw it in the trailer.  Meanwhile, I saw another masked face making his way to the bear box… I threw large sticks and pine cones as he retreated from my screams.  More laughing… but no help in defending the fortress.

Then horror of horrors, the propane lantern ran out of fuel and darkness enveloped me….. I had no night vision and groped around for a flashlight while hearing the approaching critters.  The headlines in the Kings Canyon Newsletter the next morning could have very likely read: “Crazed camping woman goes ballistic and keeps entire camp group awake after quiet hours.”  I didn’t care.  At all.  I found a lame flashlight, the firestarter and was changing the propane tank at the picnic table when my nemesis climbed right up on the other bench and looked across the table at me.  FOUR FEET FROM MY FACE!  Three days later my throat is still sore from the ear piercing, guttural yell, “GIT OUTTA HEEEEERRRRREEE!”  It must have been quite terrifying because he never came back.  Good.

At that point, my son returned to find knocked over chairs, pine cones and large sticks scattered around the camp, a propane tank on the ground and his  hyperventilating mother trying to light the lantern.  Aerobic workout for the day… check!

Raccoons: 1 bag of sunflower seeds.

Me: 1 terrifying memory that will likely pop up in nightmares for years to come.

Please stay tuned for upcoming episodes of Kings Canyon Camping.

Kings Canyon Camping Episode 3: GENERAL GRANT HIKE

GENERAL GRANT HIKE.   Day #3 brought sunny skies and temperatures in the 40s!  Whooo HOoooooOOOOooo!

During our stay at Kings Canyon there was a prescribed burn going on so the mornings and evenings were quite smokey…. which made for great sun ray pictures!

We took advantage of the clear weather and did the hike to the General Grant Tree which was a 1/2 mile from our campground.  This was our first glimpse of one of the BIG trees.  General Grant is the third largest tree in the world.  It started growing before the Egyptians built the pyramids.  Yes, it’s true.  Along the trail there were several fallen trees expanding our minds as to the enormity of these specimens.  In the middle of the trail the 7-year-old girl that was with us randomly announces to no one in particular, “This is a great place to shuffle” and proceeds to do the shuffle right there on the pine straw.  Priceless.

No, there will be no photo essay of General Grant…. my camera batteries died on this hike.  Bummer, dude.  But we did sit on the hill above Gen. Grant and broke out our nature journals and drew the immense fire scar on the tree’s back side.  While we sat there drawing, coloring and munching on beef jerky, groups of tourists came by from France.  We spoke with a few of them, but their English was about as good as our French.  About 90% of the people we met during our week stay were from France.  We still don’t know why….

Deer were plentiful in our campground and all around the parks.  These timid animals were not afraid of people or cars.  Sad.  Our girls were playing on the jumbo fallen log in the meadow behind our camp when a group of four deer came near.  The girls froze and whispered to each other as they watched the gentle animals graze.  Eventually one of the teenage boys yelled and the deer took off.  Nora had never seen deer run before.  She came scooting over to the camp and proclaimed, “Mom, they don’t run. They bounce!“  So cute!

Please stay tuned for the upcoming episodes of Kings Canyon Camping.

Kings Canyon Camping Episode 2: The BLUSTERY DAY & STUMP MEADOW

THE BLUSTERY DAY.  As the snow continued to fall, we realized our plans for the day had slowly drifted away, much like the snowflakes we were witnessing making their listless trek to the white ground below.  National Park solution #1: Visitor Center!  Yeehaw!  A roof, heated rooms, a movie, warm bathrooms with hot running water, etc. etc.  Off we went.  We took in a 20 minute movie about Kings Canyon with the three teenage boys reading the last word of every subtitle.  Did my homeschooling-mama-heart good. I taught those youngsters to read when they were wild, little, dirty whippersnappers.

The ten of us wandered the displays, felt the sharp blades of the 20 foot saw that was once used on the mammoth Sequoia trees, looked into bird nests, examined various sized pine cones and felt the bark of the enormous trees.  Much to our surprise, there was a beautiful educational room at the back of the center that we inhabited for several hours.  Our art boxes were brought in from the cars and we homeschooled in our socks in the shadows of three enormous paintings of the life zones we had studied.  Perfect!

Each of the wall murals was abounding in animals and plants of each zone.  The kids had made diorama boxes of these exact scenarios and they recollected many of the flora and fauna.

Postcards were purchased, written, stamped and sent home to various recipients whose addresses we knew by memory. We ate granola bars and cheese sticks.  Of course, we also did the booklets for the Jr. Ranger Program!  What would a trip to a national park be without doing a word find puzzle???  We learned about backpacking canisters for bear-safe food storage… see the black can?

As the natives got restless, we had wheelbarrow races and then we played charades in teams with National Park dice.  No one will ever forget Austin’s portrayal of a space ship complete with noises… because we are all familiar with the sounds made by alien flying saucers.

STUMP MEADOW.  After lunch, the snow had turned to rain and then to mist, allowing us to venture out and see a bit of the park.  Our first stop was Stump Meadow where hundreds of the BIG trees were harvested in the 1850s.  You can’t quite grasp the vastness of this area from a picture, but I offer my feeble attempt.

All eight of our children fit into the fire scar of this big stump with room to spare.  We have been reading My Side of the Mountain and the sequel The Far Side of the Mountain about Sam Gribley who, at 15,  moved from NYC to the hills and made a giant Hemlock his home.  Every time we saw a new BIGGER stump or hollowed-out tree the kids would claim, “This one will be my home!”

One last photo for you which I titled “The Little Colombian and the Giant Tree.”  Yes, Nora is standing there at the bottom, but I couldn’t back up far enough to get the top of the tree in the picture.  They are BIG.

Please stay tuned for the upcoming episodes of Kings Canyon Camping.