And this is for Lissa

The other funny thing Ramona said tonight, as we read about Charlotte, who was worrying that something was a sin:

"Weeeelll, it probably was a sin. Back then."

Because, you know, that sin stuff is such a relative thing.

This is for Danielle Bean

Tonight, I was settled on the couch, reading Across the Puddingstone Dam to the girls. Ramona was seated at an end table, in a Ramona-sized chair, pretending the table was her desk. She was also pretending to read.

I stopped to take a breath, looked over at her and asked, "What are you reading?"

"What? Me? I'm reading 'Where's My Cup of Tea?' Remember that book, Mommy? You read that book."

Yes. Yes, I did. And of course I didn't correct my little girl's sweet misnomer. I just smiled and remembered the first essay in the book, in which Danielle reminds us that even on those days when we can't and don't make it to that cup of tea, our children will provide the cup of tea we need. When, in frustration, I want to ask the world, "Where's my cup of tea?" I hope that I'll always remember the gentle reminder in that essay, and the gentle love of my children that makes every sacrifice worthwhile.

And now, I must go. My big girls are watching "Little Women" and Beth just died. Tissues aplenty are needed.

An update on meal planning, schmeal planning

I know, I know ... what I'm going to eat tonight makes for truly fascinating reading, doesn't it?

I can feel the tension in the blog-o-sphere as millions hundreds dozens of readers my children ask the question: "What's for dinner?"

Here's the answer: leftovers. And I'm darn proud of them. I'm proud because they are leftover from a meal I planned (insert many huzzahs, cheers and congratulations here, or, shake your head over my pathetic compliment-fishing for doing something I should already be good at.)

I read over the comments I got on my original schmeal planning post and considered every single one. All the suggestions were great -- I just needed to figure out which would work best for me (in other words, "What will I actually do?")

Saving Dinner looks great. I still plan to investigate it a bit more. Liz's suggestions about Rachael Ray's Express Lane Meals sound yummy, but would involve more grocery stops than I want to make. Kristina and Maureen's suggestions come closest to the way I used to meal-plan. I decided it would be best to return to my tried and true method of checking sale fliers, and planning roughly a week at a time, with our schedule in mind (Home all day? Time to teach the girls to cook? Great. Soccer night? Good for leftovers. You know the drill.)

I went through my recipe box (which was a mess) and threw out lots of things that have been in there for years (but which I've never made.) I made a master list of meals, with headings such as chicken, beef, meatless, sandwiches, soups, casseroles, etc. You see, part of my problem is that I have very little creativity when it comes to food. I could fix the same five meals every week, and be perfectly satisfied to eat them, as long as there's chocolate for dessert. My family, however, gets a little tired of the food ruts I fall into. So, the master list is great for jogging my memory: "Oh, yeah! Atticus loves those seafood pasta roll-up things. I haven't made them for ages because I forgot about them. Maybe he'd like those, instead of fried rice for the 17th time this month. Me? Love the fried rice. Where are the M&Ms?"

The next step, if I get truly organized, will be to prepare a list of ingredients for each meal on the master list, so that shopping will be even easier.

Sigh. I knew what to do, didn't I? I just had to do it. For me, getting dinner on the table really boils down to a matter of the will. I have to will myself to be organized, disciplined and on top of things. I have to keep willing dinner to happen.

Hmmm. There's a cookbook title: Willing Dinner. I'll get back to you when I find a publisher.

Blogs to enjoy

A homeschooling, sailing family. What a fascinating life!

A mom outlines her "core curriculum" (which includes "daily prayer, doing things for God because we love Him" ... No grading necessary.)

Plainsong is just plain beautiful.

Organic Learning refers us to high-tech birdwatching. Hmmmm ....

Never put off until tomorrow ....

from today's daily Mass readings:

"Therefore stay awake, for you do not know at what hour your Lord will come. But know this: if the master of the house had known the hour of night when the thief was coming, he would have stayed awake and not let his house be broken into. Therefore you also must be prepared, for at an hour you do not expect, the Son of Man will come. Who, then, is a faithful and prudent servant, whom his lord has put in charge of his household to distribute to them their food at the proper time? Blessed is that servant whom his lord on his arrival shall find so doing. Truly I say to you, he will put him in charge of all his property. But if that wicked servant says to himself, 'My lord delays his coming,' and begins to beat his fellow servants, and eat and drink with drunkards, the servant's lord will come on an unexpected day and at an unknown hour, and will punish him severely, and assign him a place with the hypocrites, where there will be wailing and gnashing of teeth."

~~ Matt. 24:42-51

Exploring the world

Are you focusing on geography this year?

Check out Semicolon's recommendations here and here and here.

I'm taking notes.

The Edge of the Forest

I'm late again ... but that's okay. It doesn't diminish the fun of reading Kelly's latest edition of The Edge of the Forest. Lots of great stuff!

This speaks for itself

I have to preface this short post with a couple of explanations:

1. Mr. Putter is our cat.
2. Betsy often calls herself Mr. Putter's mother.
3. Mr. Putter often lies in wait on the stairs, daring children to pass

Now, on with what I overheard:

Ramona, standing at the top of the stairs, saw that Mr. Putter had stationed himself about halfway down.

"Bet-seeeee!" she yelled. "Come and get your wretched son off the stairs!"

Tag: Ramona

I have nothing worthwhile to say today

But, lest you think me a sluggard, please notice that I've updated the list of "Real Learning" blogs in my sidebar. I consider this a major accomplishment and am inordinately proud of it, because I pretty much despise doing the sidebar stuff. No ... correction: I love it when it's done. I love having learned some html, love the final results when I've actually accomplished something. But I don't love the actual doing of it. As Dorothy Parker said, "Hate to write ... love having written." Pretty much the same thing here. I apply it to writing, blog-tinkering, and going to confession (Hate to confess, love having confessed....)

Anyway, lots of stuff over in the sidebar is in need of updating and I promise to get to it on another day when I have nothing worthwhile to say.

In the meantime, enjoy all those wise, witty and wonderful moms over there. I know I do.

Well, of course

Last night, after returning home to many hugs, reports and updates, after bedtime prayers and seeing Ramona sweetly off to sleep, Anne and Betsy went to their room for the usual reading-in-bed time before lights-out.

I sat down at the computer to check email. I heard an odd squeaking noise.

whee-eee-whee-eee-whee-eee

I turned back to the computer. I read a post of Lissa's that made me cry. I heard the noise again.

Whee-eee-whee-eee-whee-eeee-eeee

Anne came out of her room to ask me a question, but I had one for her.

"What is that noise?"

"What? Oh, that? Betsy's making balloon animals."

Of course. Who wouldn't make balloon animals during reading-in-bed time? Okey-doke. Got it.

Ramona knows how to break her mommy's heart

Ramona doesn't like it when I leave. (Define "leave" however you wish: walk out of the room, use the bathroom, go to the store, head for a doctor's appointment ....) If I'm out of sight, her quality of life is diminished.

On Friday, I took the kids and a couple of their friends to the park. Knowing that I was going to be out of town for part of Saturday, I thought I'd try subtly preparing Ramona for the idea.

"Hey, you know, Daddy could bring you back to the park again tomorrow."

"No," she said, shaking her head emphatically. "I don't want him to. I don't ever want to leave you."

Strike One.

Saturday morning, she was up early. She said, "Are we going anywhere today?"

"We-e-e-ll," I said, mentally scrambling. "You might be going somewhere."

She looked stricken. "Without you? Does that mean you're going somewhere? Without me?"

Why does she have to be so clever?

"Yes," I said, thinking it best to be honest and get it out in the open. "Mommy has to go out for awhile today."

"Will it be a long time?" she said, tearing up.

"Wee-e-e-e-e-ll," I stalled again (thinking, how accurate is a four-year-old's perception of time?), "it depends on what you mean by long." I knew this was a feeble attempt at evasion, but I was desperate.

"You know!" She was exasperated with me by now. Rightfully so. Illustrating the point with her outstretched arms, she said, "A long, long, long time!"

"Well, yes," I confessed. "It will be a long time. But I'll be home later today. I'll be home waaaay before bedtime. And Daddy wants to take you to the park. And out for ice cream."

"Can I go with you?" she sniffled. She always breaks my heart at this point.

"Not today, sweetie."

She cried. She grieved my going. I comforted her and we snuggled.

I think she passed through the five stages of grief -- denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance -- in about 15 minutes, which is faster than she's ever processed any separation. Because just a bit later, when we were in the kitchen and Atticus was preparing the Saturday morning Monkey Bread, Ramona said to me, "You know, Mommy. It's okay that you have to go out today. And after you're gone for awhile, I might even forget about you!"

She said it so brightly and with such bravery that I thought I might crumble. But I donned my own brave face and said, "Yes, you just might have so much fun with Daddy and your girls that you won't even think of me!"

And then I told her the story of when Anne-with-an-e was a little older than Ramona is now, and she went to her first Sunday school class. Anne and I were both a little apprehensive about our separation, but when I got back to pick her up, she said happily, "Mommy! Hi! I forgot to miss you!"

I told Ramona that it was okay if she, too, forgot to miss me, even as the thought stabbed at my heart. I told her I wanted her to have a fun and happy time with Daddy and her sisters.

And she did. But, her perception of time is uncanny. I was running late, and she did get very sad when I didn't get home at the expected time. She got over that hump, though, thanks to a great daddy, fun sisters and a cell phone call that cheered her up (now, how again did people parent before cell phones and printer/copier/scanners?)

And so -- yesterday was a huge step for both of us. We both had broken hearts. We both had to be brave. And we both survived.

Parenting ... It's not for the faint of heart.

Tags: parenting, motherhood

When they're older

I got to thinking about something last night, just after I settled a dispute between Anne-with-an-e and Betsy (or was it between Betsy and Ramona? Or had Ramona been annoying Anne? Ahem. You get the picture.) I was tired, and when one is tired, even the littlest irritations loom large. A few tiny disagreements suddenly feel like near-constant bickering, picking-on, finger-pointing and tattling. Oh, my, the behavior of children. I mean, it's so ... immature.

I felt a little overwhelmed (did I mention I was tired? So much depends on a good night's sleep ....) Yes, I thought, this is the stage of life at which I'm currently parked:

My children are walking, talking, reasoning (mostly), sharp little tacks who constantly delight me but are also capable of draining my mental energy. They're all quite verbose (wonderfully, exquisitely so on the good days and "Do-you-ever-stop-talking?!" on the bad) and that's what can get me. It's not a physical exhaustion, but it can feel so. It's mental fatigue: the dragging of a mind forced to think of 17 different ways to say, "Be kinder," the sluggish tongue that must -- one more time -- wrap itself around the words, "Go tell your sister you're sorry. And please don't ever do that to her again when she's in the shower." It's the ambushed brain that can't take one more joke that involves body parts or functions.

This is where we are, I thought. But when they're older ....

"Uh-oh, stop right there, missy," I told myself. "Don't start playing, 'When they're older,' because it's a lose-lose proposition."

"When they're older" is the trap that entices you to long for a different stage of life. I've sometimes fallen into it, but it's not a good place to live. Because, you see, if I live my entire life in the "When They're Older" trap, before I know it, they'll be older. And they'll be gone.

It goes something like this, looking back to infancy:

When she's older, she won't wake me up every night.

(But she also won't coo and gurgle in that delicious way. She won't linger at nursing and enclose me in her eyes, telling me I'm her reason for being.)

When she's older, I won't need to carry her everywhere and then my back won't ache all the time.

(She also won't be portable enough to be cuddled, held and snuggled no matter where we are or what we're doing. She won't fit neatly into one arm and I won't be able to scoop her up to celebrate that she just mastered skipping.)

When she's older, I won't have to listen to "Why? Why? Why?" all the time.

(She also won't have that same awed look on her face that she got when she saw her first penguin at the zoo. She won't study caterpillars and ants for extended periods and she won't be delighted by pointing out water towers, having just learned what they are. She won't have that squeaky voice that personifies "ironic" when she says "Awwwww, look at that babeeee! He's so cuuuuute!")

When she's older, I won't have to listen to body function humor.

(Well, I can just keep hoping on this one.)

When she's older, she won't pick on her sister. She'll be too mature for that.

(And she'll be too mature to sit on my lap, play hide-n-seek, wear her hair in ponytails, jump rope, get that incredible shine in her eyes when she kicks a soccer ball and she'll no longer be more delighted by my company than anyone else's in the world. She'll have discovered there are other things and other people who are important to her.)

When she's older, she won't be so moody.

(Oh, wait. That's a woman-thing. That'll continue. That's okay.)

I've always found "When They're Older" to be counter-productive. Oh, sure, it might seem to comfort me at the time (and don't get me wrong, there's a place for the "This too shall pass" philosophy) but most of the time, "When They're Older" is the opposite of comforting -- it's agitating. It forces us to live in and for the future. And when we do that, we miss so much of today. This Moment.

Rather, I must embrace that my children are just that. Children. They're going to be childish. And my sometimes-ambushed brain has to shore up to take one more joke, one more poor choice, one more tattle. I have to remind myself that bad days make it feel as if this happens all the time, but I know that it doesn't. Because on the same day there's been tattling, a poor choice and a joke that only a daddy can appreciate, there have also been cuddles and hugs and beaming looks of love. There have been discussions that run deeper than I thought a ten-year-old could handle and insights so moving that I've gotten a glimpse at the woman my daughter will become. There have been tea parties and read-alouds, girl-talk and cookies in the oven.

There has been the delight of "I'm so glad they're this age. I'm so glad for now. I'm so blessed by today. I'm so in love with this moment."

Today, I won't fall into the "When They're Older" trap. When they're older, they'll certainly be more mature.

But they won't be here.

And I'll miss them. So very, very much.

Tags: parenting, motherhood

Lots of locks of love

Since I currently have a daughter who's growing her hair out in order to donate it to Locks of Love, I was interested in Book Bud's review of two books on that very topic.

Like Anne, I think one of the books -- Melissa Parkington's Beautiful, Beautiful Hair, by Pat Brisson -- looks far more appealing than the other. (I don't want to unfairly judge, as I haven't read either one, but as far as their messages go, I'll take the more altruistic version.)

Hair donation seems to be going around, and my daughter may be the last one in our group of friends to jump on the bandwagon. But it's a worthwhile and admirable bandwagon, and one trend I don't mind them following.

Logic with Ramona

She was playing with a Tinker Toy sword that she and Betsy had made the other day. We'd had a four year old boy over to play, and he, Ramona and Betsy spent a good part of the day playing pirates.

As I prepared dinner, Ramona pointed her stick toward my face and said, "Aaarrrr!" I firmly told my pirate that she should not point that thing in anyone's face, as she might poke someone in the eye.

As she retreated, she said, "Well, it's a sword."

Oh. Yeah. They're supposed to put eyes out. I'm such a spoilsport.

The past comes back to haunt me

This post will not be as dramatic as the title sounds.

There I was, surfing along the internet, thinking that "The Cremation of Sam McGee" was just an obscure part of my strange childhood (well, no, to be perfectly honest, I wasn't thinking that when I ran across Kelly's post at Big A little a -- I wasn't thinking of Sam McGee at all, and haven't actually thought of him or Robert Service for years) when I encountered this book.

Strangely (almost twilight-zoneishly) I see that this poem has become a children's book. That it's been a children's book for 20 years. And that a 20th anniversary edition is now out. Well, now. Kelly gives it a fine review, and it does look as though it's beautifully illustrated. It even seems to be rather hip at the moment. But, as a child, I found this poem incomprehensible, frightening and bizarre. I can remember saying, "But Dad, if he's dead, why is he sitting up in the fire?" There was no one in this poem to whom I could relate (which was, to me, essential.) But then ... I'm a girl. As Becky points out in a comment on Kelly's post, Robert Service's poems are "a good way to get some poetry into boys." Yup.

I'm such a girl. I never really liked "Star Trek" either. Too many aliens to whom I couldn't relate. Sorry.

You can quote me on this

Mike Aquilina posted a quote meme that looked like fun, and I'm a sucker for a good quote.

You go here, to a random quote generator, and keep gathering quotes until you find five that fit you. Here are the five I chose:

Although the world is full of suffering, it is full also of the overcoming of it.

~~ Helen Keller (1880 - 1968)

Do not fear death so much, but rather the inadequate life.

~~ Bertolt Brecht (1898 - 1956), The Mother, 1932


I think it would be a good idea.

~~ Mahatma Gandhi (1869 - 1948), when asked what he thought of Western civilization

The greatest use of life is to spend it for something that will outlast it.

~~ William James (1842 - 1910)

Part of the secret of success in life is to eat what you like and let the food fight it out inside.

~~ Mark Twain (1835 - 1910)

Ramona's Observations

"Mommy, do you know what Betsy does whenever I whine?"

"No. What?"

"For some strange reason, she whines back."

************

On overhearing her sisters "discuss" something:

"Technically, they're having a fight."

Meal planning, schmeal planning

That's not what I believe, but it's how I've been living lately.

I want to plan. I really do. Or, more accurately, I want to live with the benefits of meal planning, and the only way to do that is to actually, um, you know, plan the meals.

But somehow it gets away from me.

So, this week, I'm looking into how to change that.

There are a million ideas and resources out there, and I'm looking for suggestions ... the best books? The best websites? The most-likely-to-succeed? (And yes, I do realize that my commitment is the key ingredient in this recipe ....)

Please feel free to share what has -- or hasn't -- worked at your house.

Scripture ... not

Faith at Dumb Ox Academy posted the very funny "Biblical Rules for Children."

Thou shalt not read it with a straight face.

Morning Routine with Ramona

"Mommy, will you come in my room for a minute?"

"Sure ... what do you need?"

"Weeeell," she replied, "I need an appropriate dress."

Get outside today

Or, if that's not possible, enjoy it by proxy via Dawn's Field Day. It's full of fun and informative posts and some really beautiful nature photographs. (Love that button you created, too, Dawn!)

Seven Habits of Highly Effective New School Years

Maureen Wittmann pointed me toward Maureen of Trinity Prep School's "Seven Habits" meme. This one's more than fun, though -- it's full of encouragement and ideas from all kinds of homeschoolers.

Trinity-Prep-Maureen used a literature theme for her list, so I decided to go with a fun theme, too -- haiku. If badly written haiku annoys you, just click away right now (or, as my kids love to say: "Don't look at me! I'm hideous!")

Here's my list:


1. Pray

Can't do it alone
Must turn to my God for help
He is always there

2. Look back

Hindsight sure does help
I can see what worked last year
and the failures too

3. Look ahead

Our destination:
Are we just filling a pail?
Or lighting fires?

(with thanks to William Butler Yeats who said, "Education is not the filling of the pail, but the lighting of the fire.")

4. Talk to the kids

What delights my kids?
How can I include passions?
I must know their hearts

5. Find the right books

We so love our books
Books, like friends, enrich our lives
We'll read loads this year

6. School supplies

Supply shopping's fun
No matter where your school is
New stuff still delights

7. First Day
(this one will require two haikus)

We start out with Mass
Then we go out for breakfast
It's a tradition

With God and coffee
Our year starts out perfectly
Who could ask for more?

Today's reading

"I am the living bread which came down from heaven. If anyone eats of this bread, he shall live forever; and the bread that I will give is My flesh for the life of the world."

Therefore the Judaeans quarreled among themselves, saying, "How can this man give us his flesh to eat?"

Jesus said to them, "Amen, Amen, I say to you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink His blood, you have no life in you. Whoever eats My flesh and drinks My blood has eternal life, and I will raise him up at the Last Day. For My flesh is indeed food, and My blood is indeed drink. He who eats My flesh and drinks My blood dwells in Me and I in him. As the living Father has sent Me, and I live by the Father, so he who eats Me will have life by Me. This is the bread which came down from heaven -- not as your fathers who ate manna and are dead; he who eats of this bread will live forever."

~~ John 6:51-58

Minnesota Mom

Margaret in Minnesota has stopped by my blog several times and always has something kind to say. Now, she has her own blog and you can see it here.

And clearly, when it comes to coffee, she's a kindred spirit.

Late, as always

I haven't joined the Poetry Friday bunch, but Becky has, and you must go read the delightful poem she posted yesterday.

(And, you know, the funny thing is that although I'm always late for online things, I'm known for being almost obsessively punctual in real life. I suppose one is related to the other ....)

Interesting things elsewhere

From books and movies and bento boxes for kids, to frustrated gardening....

Barbara Nicolosi always has something compelling to say. This post has a great list of movies she's planning to use in a class this fall on "Theology and Hollywood." If you're looking for a good video pick for the weekend, try this list rather than the latest new releases ....

Jim Manney at People of the Book asks, "Is Religious Publishing in Trouble?"

Anne-Marie at A Readable Feast shares the cutest idea -- taken from Rachael Ray's magazine -- for kids' lunches.

And, on a completely different note, I just love my friend Tim.

Sixth Carnival of Children's Literature

Pour another cup of coffee and head over to Castle of the Immaculate for the Sixth Carnival of Children's Literature. Promises to be great reading!

Homeschooling Meme from the Bookworm

The Bookworm tagged me with this fun meme, which she made up after participating in the recent book meme that's making the rounds. Thanks, Bookworm -- this was fun!


1) ONE HOMESCHOOLING BOOK YOU HAVE ENJOYED

(ONE????
Here's my overlong list.)


Books that convinced me I could handle homeschooling:

Family Matters, David Guterson
Better than School, Nancy Wallace
Catholic Education: Homeward Bound, Kimberly Hahn and Mary Hasson
Designing Your Own Classical Curriculum, Laura Bergquist

Books that influenced my style of homeschooling:

All of the above, plus:

How Children Fail, John Holt
Teach Your Own, John Holt
School Proof, Mary Pride
A Charlotte Mason Companion, Karen Andreola
Real Learning, Elizabeth Foss


Books that nourish me, especially when I'm feeling burn-out:

All of the above, plus:

A Catholic Homeschool Companion, ed. by Maureen Wittmann & Rachel Mackson
Homeschooling with Gentleness, Suzie Andres
Homeschooling Our Children, Unschooling Ourselves, Alison McKee
101 Devotions for Homeschool Moms, Jackie Wellwood
Seasons of a Mother's Heart, Sally Clarkson


2) ONE RESOURCE YOU WOULDN'T BE WITHOUT

My computer and the internet


3) ONE RESOURCE YOU WISH YOU HAD NEVER BOUGHT

Singapore Math (Nothing wrong with it ... just not a good fit for us ....)

4) ONE RESOURCE YOU ENJOYED LAST YEAR

My Temple of the Holy Spirit

This is no longer sold individually (our copy was given to us by a friend who no longer homeschooled.) The girls really enjoyed using this as a springboard for an investigation of the human body. We made life-size skeletons (traced onto poster board) and then added various systems: 3-d lungs made from felt and stuffing, things like that. We all thoroughly enjoyed it, and their skeletons were on display all year.


5) ONE RESOURCE YOU WILL BE USING NEXT YEAR

Historical fiction (esp. WWII) and saints' biographies

6) ONE RESOURCE YOU WOULD LIKE TO BUY

Catholic Mosaic, by Cay Gibson

7) ONE RESOURCE YOU WISH EXISTED

Free, in-home tutoring for any subject in which I feel inadequate, provided by a saintly nun, priest or brother, at hours which are extraordinarily convenient to me.


8) ONE HOMESCHOOLING CATALOGUE YOU ENJOY READING
ONE???

Catholic Heritage Curricula
Emmanuel Books
Dover Publications
Rainbow Resource

9) ONE HOMESCHOOLING WEBSITE YOU USE REGULARLY

4 Real Forums


10) TAG FIVE OTHER HOMESCHOOLERS

By Sun and Candlelight
Cirque de Moi
Family in Feast and Feria
Sweetness and Light
ATypical Homeschool

Ramona's Whale

This, of course, is why I needed to upgrade from a plain, old, neolithic printer to a printer/scanner/copier. So that I could do important things like this. I mean, really ... how did those moms in the 50s survive? A ruffled apron just doesn't cut it these days. No, no, no. One really needs a printer/copier/scanner.

(And a big thanks to my father, who, upon hearing me say in passing that I thought such a toy would be a really cool thing to have, took it upon himself to present me with one. Thanks, Dad.)

Chocolate Fondue: It's not just for strawberries anymore

Anne-with-an-e has been asking for chocolate fondue and strawberries, so last night we did a simple version for dessert. We melted a bag of milk chocolate chips and began dipping ripe, delicious strawberries.

Atticus and Betsy had another idea, however. They tried dipping a toffee-and-almond Hershey's Nugget ....

Atticus's reaction was, "Oh, that's a little too much chocolate."

Betsy's reaction was, "Can I have another one?"

My reaction? That's my kinda fondue.

Feast of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary

During those days Mary set out and went into the hill country in haste to a town of Judah, where she entered the house of Zechariah and greeted Elizabeth. It happened that when Elizabeth heard Mary's greeting, the unborn baby leaped in her womb.

Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit and cried out in a loud voice and said, "Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb! And how does this happen to me, that the mother of my Lord should come to me? For, lo, at the moment the sound of your greeting reached my ears, the baby in my womb leaped for joy. Blessed is she who believed, for what was spoken to her by the Lord will be fulfilled."

And Mary said: "My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior. For He has looked upon His handmaid's lowliness; for, behold, from now on all generations will call me blessed. For He who is mighty has done great things for me, and holy is His name. His mercy is upon those who fear Him from generation to generation. He has shown strength with His arm. He has scattered the proud in the imagination of their hearts. He has put down the mighty from their seats, and exalted the lowly. He has filled the hungry with good things, and the rich He has sent away empty. He has helped His servant Israel, in remembrance of mercy, as He spoke to our fathers, to Abraham and to his seed forever."

Mary remained with her for about three months, and then returned to her own house.

~~ Luke 1:39-56

A Lilting Curriculum

The Lilting Lissa has posted her plans for the coming school year and has invited others to do the same. She prefaced her post by saying it would be be "one huge oxymoron" and I must echo that sentiment about this post.

To say that I lean toward unschooling but then to add, "And here are my plans" sounds as if I've abandoned the unschooliness of unschooling. Or, maybe that I've schooled myself right out of unschooling. Or that I've Un-unschooled.

But, no, no, no. Not really. For me, unschooling is the answer to the following equation:

My kids
+ books
+ideas and discussion
(- boxed curriculum)
+flexibility
+willingness to abandon plans
_____________________________
Unschooling

This dovetails nicely with one of the definitions of "lilting"and thus the title of this post, inspired quite obviously by the Lilting House:

"A light or resilient manner of moving or walking."

I love thinking of our homeschooling style as "light and resilient" -- a lilting curriculum, full of buoyancy and rhythm. Oh, yes, we sometimes stumble, fall, make mistakes or realize that we've taken a wrong turn, but we bounce back, and we follow the natural rhythms that life and seasons throw our way.

So -- given my definition of unschooling, here's a look into our upcoming school year which is fast approaching. Of course, it's almost impossible to neatly divide this into subjects, so I probably shouldn't even try, but I might, here and there.

We're going to read lots of books, together and individually, and a partial list can be seen in this post. We're covering WWI, WWII and then jumping back in time to the middle ages. Through it all, we'll be reading about saints, too. It's History, Language Arts, Religion, and sometimes Math ("How many years ago did St. Francis of Assisi live? How old was he when he died?") We'll do some narrations about the books, add pictures and notes to our timeline (my dining room is smashingly decorated in Early Timeline) and add pages to Books of Centuries.

Math will be tackled more formally, with goals centered on improving proficiency, and I'll be using "Key to ..." books, which we already have. Math is one area in which I consistently dither ... there's much less unschooling there, because mathematical thinking just doesn't come as easily to me as language and history.

I'm the same way with science ... I have to confess that my eyes often glaze over if an experiment takes more than 60 seconds. But, the girls want to learn more about the following topics: genetics, taxonomy, food chains and ecosystems, the solar system, plants and birds and we'll tackle those with books we already own as well as library resources. We'll journal about our discoveries, so it's also Language Arts, isn't it?

We'll do research, hands-on projects and cooking in our Geography Club (Linda, we need to talk ~~ ) and 4-H will also provide plenty of arts-and-crafts opportunities as well as some community service. Other artsy plans include scheduling and saying "yes" often to fingerpaints, tempera paints and Sculpey. A Catholic How-to-Draw will provide some nice ideas for illustrating faith-related notebooks and journals. We'll also continue following the 4Real "Artist and Composer of the Month" (again, notice that artist and composer studies combine history, language, critical thinking skills ... the overlap of subjects is endless.)

My plans for Ramona are quite simple, but just as important as any laboriously planned curriculum:

Keep reading to her. We have tons of great picture books, and she loves our regular trips to the library. Of course we'll keep those up. Without any effort on my part (aside from wanting to share books with her), last year she came to recognize Barbara Cooney's illustrations, Jim Arnosky's books at twelve paces, and Lisa Mccue's bunny rabbits.

Don't simply "say yes" to painting ... plan on painting: finger paints, tempera paints, watercolors.

Ramona's Shelf: Over the summer, as I decluttered, I put a couple of new bookshelves in the dining room. They hold a lot of books for Anne and Betsy, but also offer things that are just Ramona's, that she may use whenever she likes (provided we aren't on our way out the door to the grocery store ....) Ramona's Shelf includes a container of dried peas and sundry scooping tools, pattern blocks, paper, crayons and washable markers, window clings, window markers, stickers and paper, a basket of faith-related books, and a variety of coloring books.

Another simple equation: Preschool = Life and Fun.

And, what about last May, when I thought we should radically cut back on activities and slo-o-o-o-w down? Well, we've tweaked that idea a bit. We're not cutting out everything -- we won't be cloistered, though there are days that sounds heavenly. We're definitely planning on the Geography Club and 4-H. And, we'll swim weekly with friends. The older girls will (probably) be singing with the parish youth choir, because they really, really want to. But, we are dropping piano (we'll look at that again in a year), and we have an entire set of friends moving away, so they'll no longer be part of our days and weeks. The biggest change will be that I'll no longer be hosting a weekly Moms Group in my home. For as much as it seemed to be "just two hours, once a week" it had become more than that, with prep time, clean-up time, etc. and I kept having the nagging feeling that it was time to pass the baton. After much prayer, I put the word out, and one brave young mom has offered to be on the receiving end of that pass. I know she'll do a great job. I feel such peace about the decision that I know it was the right thing to do.

Sometimes mom is the one who needs to drop an activity.

So. That's our life, our plan, in a nutshell (maybe not such a nutshell ... I've rambled on quite a bit.)

And, as always, I'm open to changing it.

In a lilting kind of way.

Pardon the funny posts

Ummm ... no ... strike that.

I don't mean pardon the funny (as in humorous) posts, but pardon the funny (as in odd) posts. I'm not sure how they might have shown up (or if they did show up) to my Bloglines subscribers, but like some others who use blogger.com, I have begun working on getting some posts into categories.

Blogger doesn't make it simple, and all the cutting and pasting of individual post urls has given me mouse-wrist. Ouch.

But, happily, I have the beginnings of categories (go ahead ... look over in the sidebar ... aren't you happy, too? I started with Ramona and Anne and Betsy. And, yes, I do feel some parental guilt over lumping two of my children into one category while the third gets a category all her own. Oh, my ... the vicissitudes of parenting in the blogging age ....)

Now, I need to go exercise my mouse-wrist and turn some pages as I read to Ramona before bedtime.

I'm looking forward to more categories, but I may need to give my wrist a break before I get them done. In the meantime, Ramona's wit and wisdom has been gathered into one cyber place, and I, for one, will sleep better knowing it.

Book Meme

Rebecca, at A Gypsy Caravan, tagged me with a book meme, so here goes (while reserving the right to name more than one book, because we all do that, don't we? And, I mean, c'mon ... we're talking books here, people ....)

1. ONE BOOK THAT CHANGED YOUR LIFE:

Mere Christianity, by C.S. Lewis
The Bible, by God (you knew I'd say that, didn't you? I'm so predictable)


2. ONE BOOK THAT YOU'VE READ MORE THAN ONCE:

Fr. Elijah, Michael O'Brien
The Great Gatsby, F. Scott Fitzgerald
My Antonia, Willa Cather


3. ONE BOOK YOU'D WANT ON A DESERT ISLAND:

Robinson Crusoe, for practical tips and hut organizing strategies


4. ONE BOOK THAT MADE YOU LAUGH:

My Cup of Tea, Danielle Bean
We are Still Married, Garrison Keillor
The Best Christmas Pageant Ever, Barbara Robinson


5. ONE BOOK THAT MADE YOU CRY:

The Best Christmas Pageant Ever, Barbara Robinson
The Time Traveller's Wife, Audrey Niffenegger
The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, C.S. Lewis (first read it and first cried over it in my early 20s, before I knew how Jesus would change my life ... all I knew was that ... ohmigosh, I loved that lion so much.)

6. ONE BOOK THAT YOU WISH HAD BEEN WRITTEN:

Unique Fixer-Upper Opportunities: How to Fix Anything in Your Home for Free Without Ever Calling a Plumber, Electrician, or Emergency Room Doctor

7. ONE BOOK THAT YOU WISH HAD NEVER BEEN WRITTEN:

Helter Skelter, Vincent Bugliosi
Salem's Lot, Stephen King
(Both gave me endless nightmares in high school)


8. ONE BOOK YOU'RE CURRENTLY READING:

The Privilege of Being a Woman, Alice von Hildebrand
Brideshead Revisited, Evelyn Waugh
Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, J.K. Rowling


9. ONE BOOK YOU'VE BEEN MEANING TO READ:

Tess of the D'Urbervilles (Atticus teaches it and I'm ignorant ... I read Heart of Darkness several years ago for the same reason, but I'm reasonably sure that Tess, while heartbreaking, won't be the slog that Darkness was ... aarrggh ....)


10. TAG FIVE OTHERS:

Oh, you know who you are. If you pick this up, let me know, as I'd love to read your choices, too.

School supplies, serendipity, ice cream and tears

Yesterday we went shopping for school supplies. After picking up a few essentials, and because we were celebrating the fact that none of us had any cavities (this was a known fact, not just a guess, as we'd been to the dentist in the morning) I decreed it to be an Ice Cream for Lunch Day.

We stopped for our treats, and settled down to enjoy them. As the girls were slurping their way through Oreo- and Reese's Peanut Butter Cup-laced concoctions, an elderly man approached our table.

"I just wanted to say," he said rather slowly, "that you just have some very nice girls there, and you all remind me of our family a number of years back. We had three girls, too."

I responded with something like, "Isn't that nice?" and said it was kind of him to compliment the girls. Then he went on to say, "I've got kind of a sad story, though ...."

Oh, no, I thought, who are you, and what's coming next?

"We, um," he said, looking troubled. "We lost our youngest daughter to cancer."

Oh, my. I was jolted, but managed to relay my shock and sympathy. I asked when it had happened, thinking it must've been years ago.

"Just last month," he said, tearing up. "She was 41. I was there when she died. And it just ...."

He trailed off, as tears filled his eyes. (And mine.)

"I'm so sorry," I said feebly. I looked at Anne, who was also tearing up.

He continued. "She had the Lord as her Savior, and she told me that. She said she wasn't afraid ... so, you know, that's my consolation. But," he choked, "it just tears you up inside."

"I can't even imagine," I whispered.

The surrealness of this scene didn't really occur to me. Somehow it seemed perfectly right that I was sitting here, listening to this stranger who stood next to my table as he shared his grief with a family who was willing to listen.

He shook his head, as if to recollect his thoughts, and said, "I just ... I really wanted to stop and say something to you, because I just saw that you look like such a nice, happy family. I saw your three girls talking and laughing, and I thought, 'Why there's Suzanne and Maureen and Ginger!' Just like my girls ...."

He shook his head again, and since I probably seemed unable to say anything at that point, he finished up by saying, "I just wanted to say that you all just reminded me of our family, and I could tell that you have somethin' special. You know, not everyone has that these days ... it's a rotten world, and not everyone has what you have ... and so, I just wanted to say that."

Through a few more tears, I thanked him. I told him again how sorry I was that he had lost his daughter, and that I appreciated his kindness at taking the time to stop and talk to us.

"God bless you," I said softly, feeling once again that my words were sorely inadequate.

When he left, Anne-with-an-e was crying. I comforted her, and said that although his story was a sad one, and that he missed his daughter very much, it was comforting that they had their faith (and that we have ours.) I told the girls I was glad we were there -- glad we could listen to a man who needed to talk about the daughters he loves so much. But, also, his little visit to our table was a blessing for me, I said. I was touched that he could see how much we love one another, and touched that he took the time to say it.

When we got home, I told Atticus about it -- about how it felt as if an angel had stopped to talk to us. This angel reminded me of our abundant blessings, our abundant love for one another ... of all that's really important.

Then, Atticus said, "Do you remember that last phone call we got for the Rosary Crusade? It was about a month ago. They asked us to pray for a couple who had just lost their 40-something daughter to cancer."

I had forgotten, but Atticus was right.

Though I can't know for certain, this stranger -- this "angel" -- who had felt compelled to approach an ice-cream-eating mother and her three daughters was quite possibly the man for whom I had prayed anonymously last month.

And once again, I feel awed by and unworthy of the love and mercy of such a God as we have. He intertwines our lives in ways we cannot predict, often do not see, and most certainly cannot fully comprehend on this side of heaven.

Serendipity? It's such a lovely and whimsical word for grace.

One more about Alton

Here's a great piece, which I read at the dentist's office yesterday, that he wrote for Guideposts magazine.

He ends with:

So go off the main road. Be givers of hospitality and gracious takers of it too. Accept the serendipitous moments of life because, when all is said and done, you may find out that they were not serendipitous at all.

And that brings me to my next post.

Who's Alton Brown?

This is for Jennie, who's never heard of him, and for Rae, who just found "Feasting on Asphalt" ....

Alton Brown is the host of Good Eats, the best show on Food Network. We've loved Good Eats since we found it a few years ago. We once taped a Good Eats marathon (six hours worth) and laughed ourselves silly over such classics as "Mission Poachable." (That, perchance, was the episode that left Ramona desirous of a certain kind of spatula ... it's the episode wherein Alton, looking over a wicked collection of kitchen utensils, utters knowingly, "I could rock a rainbow trout to sleep with this baby.")

Here's a great article that sums up better than I can what makes it such a great show.

And, yes, I'm just geeky enough to have bought Atticus one of those "I'm just here for the food" aprons.

Back in January, when we scaled down our cable service, I lamented that the only thing I would really miss was Alton Brown. So, I started keeping my eye out for a DVD ... lo and behold, Target came through and I found a great 3-disc set that I snatched up and hid away for Father's Day. I thought Atticus would be properly delighted. However, by June, Atticus had decided to reinstate basic cable (we'd gone down to "even-more-basic-than- basic" which our cable company calls -- get this -- "Lifeline" service, and Atticus was missing baseball, or some such silly thing.) The kids jumped up and down, and I, while delighted to have Alton back, did feel a little disappointed that my Father's Day gift now lacked punch.

But, hey, in exchange for gift-punch I got Good Eats back, plus Behind the Eats and Feasting on Asphalt. It almost makes paying the cable bill worth it.

It's a lifestyle, not a system

From today's Charlotte Mason quote at A Full Life:

If a human being were a machine, education could do more for him than to set him in action in prescribed ways, and the work of the educator would be simply to adopt a good working system or set of systems.

But the educator has to deal with a self-acting, self-developing being, and his business is to guide, and assist in, the production of the latent good in that being, the dissipation of the latent evil, the preparation of the child to take his place in the world at his best, with every capacity for good that is in him developed into a power.

Though system is a highly useful as an instrument of education, a ’system of education’ is mischievous, as producing only mechanical action instead of the vital growth and movement of a living being.

Yes. Living beings cannot be pegged into systems. For us, a combination of CM and unschoolish ideas, seasoned with some classical flavor, allows for individuality, flexibility and the following of interests and passions in way that a more prescribed curriculum (or system) might not.

Maybe we've been watching too much Alton Brown

Ramona said, "Mommy, let's pretend we're rich people who can buy anything we want."

"Okay," I said. "What do you want to buy?"

"A spatula," she replied.

St. Augustine does it again

Thanks to Mike Aquilina for posting this beautiful homily for yesterday's Feast of the Transfiguration.

Classic reading

Sherry at Semicolon is talking about the Penguin List of 100 Best Classics in Twenty Categories. It has inspired her to come up with her own list, based on the same categories.

Nighttime with Ramona

Ramona was up last night, which means that I was up last night. I was feeling a little sorry for myself, for being awakened as often as I am (we seem to be a sleep-challenged family all around. There doesn't have to be a newborn in sight for me to up quite a bit during the night.) So, there I was, out of my comfortable, cozy bed, walking my little daughter back to her room in the dark.

It was deliciously cool enough to have all the windows in the house open, and as Ramona and I walked softly and silently, hand in hand, she said, in a near-whisper, "It's so nice, isn't it, Mama, to hear the crickets?"

Oh, my. The self-pity melted away.

Yes, my dear, sweet, unbelievable, darling and miraculous little gift from God, yes. It was so nice to hear the crickets.

And it was especially nice to hear them with Ramona.

(Photo is by Christopher Potter, by way of Stock.Xchng)

Revisiting The Plan

When I first posted about The Plan I noted that catalog-browsing and curriculum-perusing can be a pleasant little hobby, but I don't have to actually follow up on all that browsing with whopping purchases of stuff I won't use. The Plan included ...

Sorting through our books:

Check.

Giving away or selling what we don't need:

Check.
(Stop looking at me like that. Just because I haven't given away or sold anything doesn't mean I failed in My Plan. It just means that we needed everything. Or, that we might need it. Maybe. One of these days.)

Reorganizing the books:

Check. This has been the most fun (funnest? Mostest funnest? Mostus Funnus?) part of it. My books are lovingly, obsessively grouped by type (or as close to type as a rebel who doesn't like "subjects" can get.) I have two new bookshelves in the dining room that hold some of the most frequently used stuff, as well as some things just for Ramona (more on that later.)

Using only materials we already own:

Check.

Ummm, well, sort of "check." "Check" with a caveat.

In July, when I updated you on how The Plan was going I was happy to say that I had not yet purchased anything new.

I can no longer say that. (Stop looking at me like that. I may have broken down and bought some stuff but I was incredibly frugal. Really.)

I am still able to say that we don't need to buy anything for the following areas because we own enough curriculum to cover them: Language Arts, Math, Science, Health.

(Huzzahs, and other celebratory sounds inserted here. Chocolate may be added.)

I did buy some books for Faith studies and History (please don't scoff at the quantitative "some"):


*Number the Stars, by Lois Lowry
*The Borrowed House, by Hilda van Stockum
*Edith Stein (Encounter the Saints series)
*Maximilian Kolbe (Encounter the Saints)
*Young Life of John Paul II, by Claire Jordan Mohan
*Vision Books on saints:
Our Lady of Fatima
St. Dominic
St. Francis and St. Clare
St. Joan of Arc
St. Elizabeth of Hungary
St. Thomas Aquinas
*King Arthur, Tales of the Round Table, by Andrew Lang
*Big John's Secret, by Eleanor M. Jewett
*Twelve Bright Trumpets, by Margaret Leighton
*The Holy Twins, by Tomie de Paola
Stories of the Saints, Volume II by Elaine Woodfield
Catechism of Church History, by Fr. Robert Fox
Catechism Catcher Kit (like a "cootie catcher" but with Catechism facts), from Emmanual Books
A Catholic How-to-Draw, by Andrea Helen Smith

As you can see, there's a lot of overlap between "History" and "Faith Studies." (It's that "you-can't-separate-life-into-subjects" thing again.) I plan to tie the biographies of saints into our history reading, and all of it will tie very nicely into the Geography club we plan to do with my pal Linda (of American Girl Club fame.)

Oh ... and, I guess I should confess that as long as I was ordering a couple of things from Dover Publications, I picked up a few more extremely frugal books from their Evergreen classics line.

Final report on the plan?

Mission accomplished.

I didn't buy unnecessary stuff (well ... okay, no one really needs a Catechism Cootie Catcher, but it's such a fun idea ....) So, maybe the mission wasn't fully accomplished, but I have a streamlined dining room, organized books, lots of good literature for us to read and share, I have our faith studies prioritized at the top of the list.

It's close enough to "accomplished" for me.

More huzzahs, more celebratory sounds, and -- of course -- bring on the chocolate. Go ahead. Make it Godiva. It's not necessary, but it's such a fun idea.

Tags: homeschooling,
curriculum, home education,
planning

High anxiety

Anxiety dream of a public school English teacher (keep in mind how many essays Atticus already has to grade, given classes of 25):

"It's the first day of school. I've just found out I have 60 students per class."

Anxiety dream of a homeschooling mom:

"It's the first day of school. I've taken the kids out to breakfast. Oh, no! They're out of cappuccino! My day's ruined."

Peeking into other homeschools

As another school year approaches ...

As I finish up poring over catalogs, drooling over all the books I'd like to own ...

As I place whittled-down, budget-conscious orders (not of curriculum, per se, but of books, which are the lifeblood around here) ...

As I surf around to see other moms' ideas of what a homeschool is ...

I want to share some of those places with you:

Ann, at Mozart and Mudpies, has a terrific series on "Homeschool Entropy." Start here, and work your way backwards, or hop over to the sidebar and follow Anne's progress chronologically.

Ann's and my dining rooms have undergone similar transformations this summer, although I'd like Ann to stop by and paint mine. I didn't get to that. Oops. I also didn't get all the nifty before-and-after pictures. (I'm soon going to buy a whittled-down, budget-conscious digital camera and enter the 21st century with the rest of you.) But, I did get decluttering and reorganization done, and it feels divine. Ann also shares "Plan A" for the coming year.

Amy, at Among Women, has caught the FridgeSchooling bug. Here's what's on her Hagrid-sized refrigerator this week.

And, correct me if I'm wrong (as I so often am) but I think the fridgeschooling got started at Faith's wonderful Dumb Ox Academy with this post.

The always-inspiring Leonie is so relaxed, so calm and so confident that it will all happen naturally. I am often-to-sometimes relaxed, calm, and confident but in those times when I'm not, I turn to Leonie and breathe. And Leonie, incidentally, also makes use of her fridge for more than just food. (We do, too -- a micro-version of fridgeschooling, I suppose. Last year, I regularly posted our Artist and Composer of the month on the fridge.)

Elizabeth's offerings always inspire me, and can be transferred easily to a family with only three children. And be sure to click on those links to Rebecca's thoughts, too.

I'm out of time for now, but I hope these quick peeks give you a idea of how rich and varied homeschooling can be. They also give a peek into my scattered brain, as I bounce from style to style, season to season and structure to non-structure.

Chaotic, you say? Well, I've been known to call it schizophrenic, but today I prefer to call our homeschool lively and profoundly interesting.

Tags: homeschooling,
home education,
curriculum

Speaking of digs ....

Love2Learn Mom recently posted this link to a story about an amazing find in Ireland.

And in the "Best Souvenir from the Zoo" category ...

... the winner is:

the Dino digging toy. The one Betsy brought home isn't exactly like this one I found at Mastermind Toys, but it's pretty close and all three of my budding paleontologists had a great, if dusty, time with this thing yesterday.