Poetry Friday

Are you feeling it?

That relief that comes with the end of this interminable month?


I couldn't find anything to express it, so I wrote this haiku:

February fades,
Like a guest who stayed too long.
Shut the door, and sigh.


Kelly Fineman is hosting today, and the Poetry Friday round-up is here.

Ramona, what are you doing ...

... with your stuffed animals?

"I'm keeping them safe from Daddy."

Atticus had the flu yesterday.

I'm starting to feel like I might be next.

I might go hide under that laundry basket, too.

Need something for the kids to do?

Betsy discovered that she can play with Ramona and practice her cake decorating skills at the same time.

Did you ever know that I'm her hero?

Ramona was playing on this website, where you can "make your own hero."

She said, "Look! I made a homeschooling mom! It's you!"

Cue the "Awwwws." I know I did.

Kids Against Hunger

Our town has a food packaging satellite for Kids Against Hunger and my kids couldn't be happier.

They describe the time they spend there as rewarding and fun. If you aren't familiar with it, this page explains what Kids Against Hunger, or KAH, is. Volunteers measure, pour and bag a combination of rice, soy, vitamins/flavoring and vegetables, and put together nutritious meals-in-a-bag to be shipped all over the world.

The girls have been only a handful of times, but we hope to make it a much more regular activity. This small commitment of time is a very real way to help starving children.

How the components of the bags came together is described on this page, which gives more details about the man who started KAH, Richard Proudfit.

An excerpt:

His breakthrough came when he met with several food industry executives in Minnesota and asked the simple question, ‘What would be the ideal food for starving children?” The executives put their food scientists to work and began testing various formulations of a highly nutritious dehydrated food package. Richard tells the story of testing one of the early formulations of the food with Indian children who lived on the Calcutta city dump (not near, but on the dump). The children had trouble keeping the food down because it was too rich for their starved bodies.

From this experience and others, the formulation was refined so that it could fill the basic nutritional needs of virtually any child while accommodating the broad range of cultural tastes and religious prohibitions found around the world. The beauty of the food formulation is its simplicity. It is made from four readily available, dry ingredients (rice, soy beans, vegetables, and a vitamin-mineral mixture) that are easy to package, keep for long periods, and requires only boiling with water to prepare. Despite the simplicity of the food’s content, it is a nutritionally complex and well balanced meal.

By American standards, our family is merely middle-class. We live in a modest home, drive old cars, and get hugely excited about things like a long drive to Pennsylvania. But, I know that in comparison to others around the world, we are obscenely rich. I keep trying to find ways to teach that truth to my children, and to reinforce that message to myself. Kids Against Hunger is a simple and helpful way to teach the lesson, to give a little of ourselves, and to know that we're a concrete part of a solution to a huge problem.

Here's a list of current satellite locations for KAH. Is your town on it? If it is, spread the word, and if you don't see your town on the list ... well, you know what I'm thinking.

Great Yarns for the Close-Knit Family

Mary Gildersleeve has a new book out that looks irresistable.

Great Yarns for the Close-Knit Family combines favorite family read-alouds with knitting projects. How fun is that! I see lots of our favorites on the list, which includes:

1. Adventures of Pinocchio by Carlo Collodi
a. Pinocchio Doll and Clothes

2. Canadian Summer by Hilda vanStockum
a. Mr. Magic’s Gnome Hat
b. Arthur Purcell’s “Gay” Sweater

3. The Hobbit or There and Back Again by J.R.R. Tolkein
a. Bilbo’s Backpack
b. Bilbo’s Traveling Jacket

4. Little House in the Big Woods by Laura Ingalls Wilder *
a. Ma’s Boot Socks
b. Pa’s Red-White Checked Mittens

5. Little House in the Highlands by Melissa Wiley *
a. Mittens for Laird Alroch & Auld Mary
b. Tullie Greyshanks Doll and Clothes

6. The Lost Island by Eilis Dillon
a. Fisherman’s Jersey
b. Wool Socks for the Journey

7. Mary Poppins by P.L. Travers
a. Mary Poppins’ Carpetbag
b. Mary Poppins’ Fur-trimmed Gloves

8. Mr. Popper’s Penguins by Richard and Florence Atwater
a. Captain Cook (penguin doll)
b. Mr. Popper’s Cozy Scarf

9. Otto of the Silver Hand by Howard Pyle
a. Otto’s Chain Mail
b. Otto’s Scabbard and Belt

10. Redwall by Brian Jacques
a. Matthias’ Over-sized Habit
b. Asmodeus the Snake

11. The Secret Garden by Frances Hodgson Burnett
a. Colin’s Rug and Cushion
b. Mrs. Sowerby’s Cloak

12. The Wheel on the School by Meindert deJong
a. Lina’s Stocking Cap
b. Thick Wools Socks for Linda & Jan

I'm already thinking about the Tullie Greyshanks Doll, Mr. Popper's Scarf and Matthias's habit ... I know what I hope to find tucked inside my Easter basket. (What's that, Atticus? I don't usually get an Easter basket? Well, I'm starting a new tradition this year.)

More info on the book can be found at the publisher's website, Hillside Education, which is fast becoming my favorite publisher of all-things-home-ed.

LB 1141: Where to begin?

State Sen. DiAnna Schimek, of Lincoln, has introduced a bill in the Nebraska Legislature that would severely limit the freedom of homeschoolers in our state.

There are so many things wrong with this bill that it's hard to know where to begin.

One of the first things I noticed, however, is the fact that Sen. Schimek's husband, Herb Schimek, is the director of government relations for the NSEA (Nebraska State Education Association.) Please know that I have nothing against the NSEA. I am married to a public school teacher. I think the NSEA provides a number of good and needed services for teachers. However, it appears to me that there's a conflict of interest, which could possibly color Sen. Schimek's view of home education? We here at the Edmisten household have the advantage of living in both worlds, which helps us to see all sides of the issue.

The second thing I noticed about this bill is that it was introduced entirely on Sen. Schimek's initiative, due to her own personal concerns. It was not co-sponsored by any other senator, it was not brought to her attention by her constituents, and it did not rise out of one of those horrid, nightmarish "Homeschooler Harms Her Own Children" headlines.

"This is my doing because it's been my concern," she was quoted as saying in this article in the Lincoln Journal Star.

Sen. Schimek also asked, in the same article, "How do we know what's happening in homeschools?"

My answer to that is: the state knows what's happening in my homeschool because I tell them every year.

Annually, I file papers claiming that I will educate my children, and I tell the state how I'll do it. Unless there's some reason to assume I'm lying, I don't understand what the fuss is about. I have decided to exempt my children from the state school system, which is entirely my right as a parent. So, as far as I'm concerned, I already provide the state with far more information than they are entitled to under these circumstances.

The Journal Star article also mentions that "Nebraska's constitution says the state must provide education to all children ages 5 to 21." By offering public schooling, the state has fulfilled its obligation as outlined in the constitution. By opting out of the public schools, I have shown them my alternative course of action. By reporting to them annually, I am holding myself accountable. Again, I fail to see the fuss, beyond Sen. Schimek's personal concerns and suspicions.

The bill, which can be found in its entirety here (pdf file), is loaded with new restrictions. A quick summary:

• Currently, after filing for exempt status from public schools (for either academic or religious reasons) we receive an acknowledgment from the Dept. of Education. LB 1141 adds the requirement that our filing reason be approved.
  

• Annually, every child in an "exempt" school (homeschool or non-accredited private school) must either take a standardized test, or submit an extensive portfolio to the Dept. of Education. Those submitted materials will be reviewed by a Dept. of Education evaluator.
  

• Annual testing is to be conducted by a certified educator of a school district. And, any six-year-old who will be homeschooled for the first time will be required to take a baseline test.

• Tests and evaluations are to be done at a time and place chosen by the Dept. of Education (though they "shall make every reasonable effort to conduct them at times and places which are convenient for the parents or guardians and the children being evaluated.")
  

• If sufficient progress (as defined by the Dept. of Education, and basically meaning on grade level) is not demonstrated in a given year, the child must be enrolled in a public school the following year (unless, before the next school year, the test is retaken and shows "sufficient progress" as defined by the Dept., or if the Dept. of Ed. evaluator is of the opinion that sufficient progress has been made, or approves a remediation plan.)

So, what's a little testing and record-keeping?

Nothing, really. I'm not frightened of the testing and I already keep enough records that I need to buy another filing cabinet.

That's not the point.

The most important point, of course, is that parents are the primary educators of their children. Period. It is our right as parents to educate our children as we see fit. Placing burdens on homeschooling parents, and telling us precisely how an education works, puts the state in the position of primary educator. It is not. State education is there to fall back on when parents can't do it all.

Not everyone wants to homeschool, nor can everyone homeschool. I believe in the ideal of a free, solid education being available to every citizen. Education should not be for only the wealthy or affluent. It should be available to all. But, "available" and "forced" are two different things.

(And, incidentally, taking on homeschooling effectively does away with the "free" part of education. Not only do homeschooling parents pay taxes to support public schools -- to which we don't send our kids -- we also assume the entire financial burden of educating our children. And now, they want to charge us for the testing, too. Oh, my.)

And speaking of finances, I am wondering how much it will cost the state to implement this bill. Who, in each district, will oversee the homeschoolers? (There are roughly 5500 of them in Nebraska.) Teachers? Being married to one, I can attest that they're already pretty busy, and I'd personally be rather unhappy if my husband, who already spends a good many evenings grading English papers, also had to go visit homeschooling families to make sure they're doing their work.

And, I find it more than a bit unsettling that if a child is not up to standards, by the Dept. of Education's definition, that child will be pulled out of their homeschool and placed in a public school. If a child is not up to par in a public school, is he pulled out and placed in a different school? Not in my experience. Is the educational plan tweaked? Yes. I can do that at home, too.

But, the other glaring problem with this bill is its assumption that there is only one acceptable and successful model of education.

What we do here in our home, for example, may not always "look like school." But it's yielding some pretty satisfying results.

On the night that I first read about this bill, I was struck by these kinds of ironies:

• Just days before, my eldest daughter had asked me, "Mom, why is it that most of the homeschooled kids I know love school and most of the kids I know who go to school hate it?"

• My five-year-old approached me (as I was talking to Atticus about LB1141) and said, "Mommy, I'm so silly. I thought this little statue (she was holding a miniature bust, like this one) was Mozart. But it's Bach, of course."

• My 11-yr. old, says things like this: " ... let's take years and years and years to learn everything!"

So.

That's my take. If you live in Nebraska, please consider contacting the members of the Education Committee, as the hearing will be held on February 26th. Contact your local representative as well, and let him or her know that you are opposed to this bill should it advance out of the Education Committee.

Dana, at Principled Discovery, has done an awesome job of keeping up on this, and I'm going to refer you to several of her posts:

Contact Information (scroll down a bit to find emails and phone numbers for senators)
Intro and Summary
Why Object to Testing?
A response from Sen. Fulton
Contempt for all parents?

Thanks, Dana, for all that you've put into this issue.

And, please, spread the word in Nebraska, and contact your senators!

Poetry Friday: Ramona on celery

Poetry is about economy.

Economy of words,
economy of image.

That's why I think Ramona's recent observation on celery is poetry.

Fresh celery
tastes
like the wind.

I did a double take.

"What did you say?" I asked her.

"I said fresh celery tastes like the wind," she said, crunching another bite from a crisp stalk, and looking very much like a munching five-year-old rather than an artiste.

But, I know what lies beneath that deceptively cute exterior ... 'tis the heart of a poet.


More of Ramona's poems can be found here and here.

Poetry Friday is hosted today by none other than Kelly Herold, at Big A little a, who was there when it began (because she began it.) The roundup is here.

Sharing the pages of Canticle ....

The newest issue of Canticle is out, and I'm privileged the share the pages with some wonderful writers, including the delightful Sarah, from Just Another Day of Catholic Pondering, among many others. Check out Heidi Hess-Saxton's post at Silent Canticle for a list of all who are included.


This issue, I've got the Body and Soul column. In "Seconds and Sacrifice" I share some musing about food. And about foregoing food:

I’m at it again -- trying to lose a little weight. In my twenties, all I had to do to drop a few pounds was cut out the M&Ms for a few days.

Then came life: pregnancies, miscarriages, three deliveries … the forces of gravity, years of breastfeeding, and age. And now, the extra pounds don’t melt away as easily as they used to. Cutting out the M&Ms for a few days results only in making me cranky.

So this time, I’m trying a new approach. Instead of allowing my M&M sacrifice to make me cranky, I’m putting it to good use. Every time I forego a food, I offer up that specific dietary sacrifice for a specific intention.

To read the rest, you'll have to pick up the magazine. If you don't already subscribe, consider trying Canticle's offer for a free trial issue, by calling 800-558-5452.

Total Lunar Eclipse

Check out details at Nasa and at Space.com

It's nine degrees below zero here this morning. It might creep all the way up to 7 degrees today, then dip back down to -1 tonight.

We may be peeking at the moon from a window tonight, rather than from the backyard.

(Photo thanks to stock.xchng.com)

The Striped Ships: book review

I can thank Kathryn of The Bookworm for recommending this one as part of our Medieval study.

It's the year 1066, and young Juliana, a Saxon thane's daughter, is on the beach when she sees the striped ships arrive. Her life changes quickly, drastically and miserably after the Norman invasion; Juliana's life will never be the same.

Enduring countless hardships, including separation from most of her family, Juliana struggles to survive and find her way. She's a realistic, tough and admirable character, one the girls and I liked very much.

Eloise McGraw uses vocabulary proper to the time period (a glossary is included in the back of the book) which adds to the authenticity of this historical novel. We enjoyed the characters, the plot, and we learned a lot, too. We shared some terrific discussion about politics, prejudice and points of view. Who was right, and who was wrong in this story? Did Harold Godwinson really swear an oath to William and later break it? Is he not the man Juliana thought he was? Or was he? Who writes history? Who gets to tell the story?

We also took a quick side-trip to look further into the Bayeux Tapestry, which plays a prominent role in the story.

Some fascinating links for further exploration of the tapestry can be found here at Bayeux Tapestry.org, and here and here, at Hastings1066.com. Not to be outdone, YouTube offers an "animated" Bayeux Tapestry. (Yes, really. Kinda fun, too, though of course, you'll ask yourself, "Who has time to do that?")

The Striped Shipsis appropriate for roughly ages 12 and up. As I read aloud, I dropped a couple of unsavory references, but other than that, no editing was necessary. The book is out of print, but I had no trouble finding a used copy for a reasonable price.

A Picture Perfect Childhood: book review

Cay Gibson's new book, A Picture Perfect Childhood is a picture perfect resource.

Let's get one thing straight: I love picture books.

Awhile back, I had an afternoon to myself. I was at a bookstore, and a friend had instructions to hunt me down in the stacks, and from there we had plans for lunch. When he found me in the children's section, he said, "I thought this was supposed to be time for you!"

I was non-plussed. What on earth would make him think that wandering through a garden of picture books wasn't for me?

Cay Gibson understands.

And, in A Picture Perfect Childhood, she has put together delectably long lists of books for all ages. Picture books? Yes. But picture books are for all ages.

Alicia Van Hecke's terrific and detailed review over at Love2Learn will fill you in on the many kinds of lists available in this book.

This isn't necessarily a book to be "read" although Cay's warm encouragement will surely convince you to spend more time with your children and books. Rather, it's a resource to be both skimmed and scoured, highlighted, dog-eared, carried to the library and kept by the computer, right next to the "Add to shopping cart" button.

Disclaimer: I was privy to a sneak-peek of this book a few months back, and was able to offer a bit of proofreading, etc. Cay was kind to mention me in her acknowledgements, but I have no stake in the book. I admire the labor of love that is Picture Perfect Childhood. The amount of work and dedication it takes to put together comprehensive booklists, such as this one, and Maureen Wittmann's For the Love of Literature is staggering to me, and I thank the women who do this incredible work for all of us.

Speaking of Alice Gunther and the Family-Centered Learning Conference

Okay, so maybe I was speaking only of Alice Gunther in my last post and hadn't mentioned the Family-Centered Learning Conference.

Mea culpa.

I'm mentioning it now, so you can circle the date in permanent ink on your calendar.

Michele Quigley, of The Family-Centered Life, Mater Amabilis, and The Catholic Woman's Daily Planner, is hosting what promises to be a fun and dynamic conference on July 26, 2008, in Lancaster, Pennsylvania.

Alice Gunther is the featured speaker, and there will also be talks given by Margot Davidson, Mary Ellen Barrett and Meredith Henning.

Are you going?

I'm going!

Atticus wants to meet Gettysburg and I want to meet all of the above-mentioned dynamos, and my kids want to meet the dynamos' kids (some of whom have been their penpals for a long time now.) We'll all be happy!

So, plan to get happy. Plan on Lancaster in July.

A new book from Alice Gunther

I am delighted to pass on an announcement from Alice at Cottage Blessings and Margot Davidson, at Hillside Education:

Alice Gunther's first book will soon be published. A Haystack Full of Needles: A Catholic Home Educator's Guide to Socialization will be available sometime this spring.

No one combines heartfelt stories and practical tips in quite the same way that Alice does. This book promises to be a treasure.

I am eagerly awaiting my copy!

Phantom was Phabulous

Anne-with-an-e.
Betsy.
Me.
Plus two of the girls' best friends.

Girls' night out.

Phantastically phun.

We're back. We're tired.

I'll be getting reacquainted with my laundry room today.


And I'll be humming. A lot.

A Gaggle of Saints

The inimitable Minnesota Mom tagged me for this meme:

1. First saint you “met?”

That would be St. Augustine.
Compliments of my friend, Jack. Thanks, Jack.

2. Favorite Saint(s)?

St. Mary Magdelene, my confirmation saint.
Our Blessed Mother.
St. Joseph.
St. Teresa of Avila.
St. Therese, for her gifts of roses.
St. John of the Cross.
St. Francis de Sales.
St. Jane de Chantal.
St. Bonaventure.
St. Francis of Assisi.
St. Teresa Benedicta of the Cross.
St. Cecilia.
St. Catherine of Siena.
St. Bernard of Clairvaux.
Shall I stop?
No ... one more ... Papa John Paul the Great.

And, one more: Our Lady Who Unties Knots. Thanks to Genevieve Kineke for introducing me to her several years ago. My first article for Canticle magazine had somehow gotten separated from my name and contact info. Genevieve (the editor at the time) was down to the wire, and threw up a last minute prayer to Our Lady Who Unties Knots, to identify the writer of the piece, which was scheduled to run very soon. Our Lady Who Unties Knots must have nudged me at the precise moment needed, because I happened to email Genevieve just then, to inquire about the status of the piece. My name was reunited with the article, and it ran in the next issue.

3. Patron saint for the year?

Thank you for reminding me that we have to get back to this!

4. Favorite book by a saint?

Augustine's Confessions, though I have not, in all honesty read all of it.

And, eventually, I'll be able to say, "Everything JPII wrote."

5. Saint book you are reading now?

John Paul II's Book of Saints

6. Favorite movie of a saint?

The Passion of the Christ.

7. Favorite Autobiography/Biography of a saint?

The usual suspects: Confessions, Story of a Soul, Intro to the Devout Life and also, Fr. Thomas DuBay's Fire Within.

8. Favorite novel/book of a saint?

Novels? Hmmm. Novels. I don't know. I'm blank. I'll get back to you.

9. Saint (besides your favorites) you'd want to meet?

Well, of course I'd want to meet my favorites. With my luck, though, I'll get to heaven and get stuck in the room with all the lesser known and duller saints. (I'm kidding, I'm kidding!)

10. Saint you look to for help?

All my favorites, of course, for my many and varied weaknesses.

The duller ones for humility. ;-)

11.Favorite saint quote?

"You have made us for Yourself and our hearts are restless til they rest in You."
~~ St. Augustine

And, of course:

Late have I loved you, O Beauty ever ancient, ever new, late have I loved you!

You were within me, but I was outside, and it was there that I searched for you. In my unloveliness I plunged into the lovely things which you created. You were with me, but I was not with you. Created things kept me from you; yet if they had not been in you they would have not been at all.

You called, you shouted, and you broke through my deafness. You flashed, you shone, and you dispelled my blindness. You breathed you fragrance on me; I drew in breath and now I pant for you.

I have tasted you, now I hunger and thirst for more. You touched me, and I burned for your peace.

~~ Confessions

Does it get better than that?

Also, from Augustine, the pithy, "Wake up, O man! For your sake God became man!"

Also reportedly by St. Augustine, but I can't find a source, other than my dear friend, Jack:

"Let good friends be present, when poverty crushes us, or bodily pain tortures us, or we are far apart from those love ... When the world begins to fall apart, let good friends be there, friends who will not only dance at our parties, but weep at our wakes. May we have dear friends who will heal with soothing words. If we have such friends, then surely life's hard edges will be softened, and its burdens made light."

12. Favorite Holy Card?

All my favorites, of course. And I love anything with an image of the Holy Family, or of Madonna and Child.

13. Favorite story of a saint?

Too many to list!

But, I do love the story that Margaret also mentioned, about Teresa of Avila, who questioned God's wisdom during a trial and reportedly received the reply, "You are my friend. this is how I treat all of my friends." To which Teresa quipped (wouldn't you love to quip with the Lord?), "If this is how you treat your friends, it is not surprising that you have so few of them!"

14. If you could go anywhere on a pilgrimage to a saint's homeland, where would it be?

Again, the usual suspects: Lisieux, Fatima, Lourdes and Assisi. Maybe Poland, for my beloved Papa JPII?

15. Any Blesseds or Venerables that you would like to become canonized?

Papa, of course. Blessed Teresa of Calcutta. Blessed Kateri Tekakwitha.

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

We'll be very busy for the next couple of days and posting will be slight. Go Google for quotes from your favorite saints. It's a treasure trove out there!

A Day in the Homeschooling Life

I've seen several of those "Day in the Life" posts recently, and thought about doing one of my own. I love "Day in the Life" posts, because I like to get real glimpses into other real homeschools.

Then I thought, "But which kind of day?"

I know, I know ... I'm supposed to just pick one, chronicle it, and get over it.

But, I don't get over things that easily.

I might happen to pick a day that was a stellar example of home learning. Let's say it looked something like this (the following is a dramatization -- do not draw any conclusions about homeschooling from said dramatization):

We got up (this is always a good beginning.) Atticus and I prayed together before he left for work.

The kids and I cooperated to get breakfast on the table. We read about the parts of the Mass while we ate. They asked probing questions and received appropriately glowing looks from their mother.

We tackled some math and no one complained or cried.

We read about the Bayeaux Tapestry and my adorable children oohed and aahed and received appropriately glowing looks from their adoring mother.

We tackled some household chores and no one complained or cried.

The children did some writing, and their appropriately adoring mother oohed and aahed in all the right places. I received glowing looks from my adoring children.

Dinner (efficiently placed in the crock pot sometime during the morning glow) was ready when Atticus walked in the door that evening. We ate, shared our day, and laughed. We cooperated to get dinner cleaned up, and later enjoyed a little more read-aloud time over ice cream. Everyone shuffled off to bed, smiling and content.

**********

Or, I might pick a day that went something like this (the following is a dramatization -- do not draw any conclusions about homeschooling from said dramatization) :

Atticus dutifully got up. (Thank heaven for his stability.)

I, having stayed up too late writing the night before, was a bleary-eyed monster and wanted to be dead to the world (Atticus starts the day at a startling hour.) But, I couldn't be dead to Ramona, who came padding into our bedroom, convincing me that even if I'd wanted to get up, I had to get her back to sleep, because a sleep-deprived Ramona is not a pleasant Ramona.

Atticus must have prayed alone, because by the time I got Ramona back to sleep, he'd left for work.

I checked email. In an attempt to clear out my Inbox (a never-ending task) I kept saying, "Just reply to that one ... just one more ...." I suddenly realized that it was past time to wake Anne and Betsy, so hurried off to do that.

Over breakfast, as I read to the girls about the Last Supper, they asked me things like, "Do you think if you give up complaining for Lent you can have it back on Sundays?" and "Has the Veggie Tale pirate movie come out yet? Can we go?"

We tackled some math. They complained. I cried.

We skipped history reading because:

a. We had to go to the orthodontist
b. The car was dead and I had to make several phone calls to figure out who might be able to help with a jumpstart
c. I was going to show the kids the Bayeaux Tapestry on several websites, but the computer got cranky and I followed suit
d. All of the above

We tackled some household chores and I spouted a handy-dandy lecture about how they would one day understand the importance of routines and maintenance. We all complained. Someone may have cried. I don't remember. I was too cranky to be compassionate.

I told myself that frozen pizza has a variety of food groups in it, and thus is a fine dinner.

Atticus had to work late, so we ate without him. I lectured the kids on how to correctly execute their after-dinner chores, and then we all retreated to separate corners of the house, distinctly grumpy. Ramona's retreat lasted only two minutes, and then she asked me to play Barbies. Afraid I might scream if I had to play Barbies that night, I instead assigned the older girls to play with Ramona. They complained. I cried.

Heaving the sigh of a martyr when they asked for some read-aloud time before bed, I picked up a book and slogged through it. We all made it to bed without anyone else crying, but I think I complained in my sleep that night.

**********

Which one is real? Which one is typical?

You already know the answer. They're both real. We've had Day #1 and we've had Day #2, but the majority of days are something in between.

Day 1 & 1/2, if you will.

That's the day wherein the car did break down, there was sibling bickering, and there may have been some math anxiety, but there was also an awesome conversation about the origin of human beings, and there were questions about how God works so intimately in our lives. There was excitement over diving in to a new book series and shared amazement over Ramona's newfound reading skills. There was a lecture, but also a loving hug. There may have been some unnecessary sighing, but there was also the maternal attempt to cover it up.

"A Day in the Life of Our Homeschool" isn't easy to pin down.

It's sort of like life: We're fallen creatures, climbing toward heaven. That makes for a strange mix. But it's all we've got.

We strive for the ideal: Heavenly Day #1.

We sometimes crash into the pit: Fallen Day #2.

In the end, we find the balance that is life on this earth:

It's not perfect, but it has its moments.

And that's a day in the life of our homeschool.

(Clipart courtesy of RetroGraphix.com)

Is Ramona trying to tell me something?

She opened up Microsoft Word and left this message on my computer screen:

Mcdonalds bergerking wides subway

I, too, think of "wides" when I think of all this fast food, but I think she meant Wendy's.

Are you not highly impressed with our culinary variety and taste? Only the best for the little minds in this family.

Not really Pachelbel, but ...

This video is quite funny for any parent who has ever desperately craved sleep. And it's also (stick around for the very end) very sweet.



Thanks to friend, Dave O., for the tip.

Happy Saturday.

Poetry Friday: The Mouse of Amherst

For Poetry Friday with my kids, I plan to reread an old favorite to them (though it will be new to Ramona):

The Mouse of Amherst, by Elizabeth Spires, with pictures by Claire A. Nivola, is a delightful little book that we've loved since Anne-with-an-e was in first grade (our first year of homeschooling ... oh, my, how these years are flying with the speed of light ... she cannot be in eighth grade now .... )


But, enough of my incredulous nostalgia. This is a charming little book, and rather deceptively simple. The life and adventures of a mouse named Emmaline, who lives in Emily Dickinson's room, help us to consider what poetry is, what makes a poet (or poetess, or poet-mouse) , and what purpose poetry serves.

When we first read this book (so sorry ... I'm back to the nostalgia) Betsy was four years old and took a liking to my beloved Emily. She asked to listen to "Because I Could Not Stop for Death" (we had a recording of it on an encyclopedia cd) repeatedly. Then she strolled around the house reciting it in an irresistible, four-year-old way:

Because I could not stop for deff
He kindwee stopped for me
The cawwiage held but just aw-selves
and immortowity.

Anne-with-an-e had become an instant fan, too, when she discovered that the Belle of Amherst was a kindred spirit who recognized the power of words. "She loves books, too, Mommy!"

Indeed.

And today, I predict that we will add Ramona to our circle of Amherst fans, because:

There is no Frigate like a Book
To take us Lands away,
Nor any Coursers like a Page
Of prancing Poetry –
This Traverse may the poorest take
Without oppress of Toll –
How frugal is the Chariot
That bears the Human soul.

The Poetry Friday round-up is at AmoXcalli today.

And, just because I love it, here's an extra quote for this Poetry Friday:

“To acquire the habit of reading is to construct for yourself a refuge from almost all of the miseries of life.” ~~ W. Somerset Maugham

What Ramona is giving up for Lent

Ramona: "I'm going to give up hanging off the kitchen cupboard door."

Betsy: "Wait a minute -- I thought you were going to give up whining."

Ramona: "No. I gave up whining when I have to put socks on. But that was this morning. Now I'm giving up hanging off the cupboard."

Anne-with-an-e: "It's not fair to God if you keep changing what you're giving up."

Ramona: "Well, I won't change it anymore. I'm giving up hanging off cupboards, and every time I feel like doing it, but don't, I get to put a bean in the jar."*

So.

That's that.

*Sacrifice Jar

There are different versions of this all over the place, but here's what we do: Put out an empty jar and a bowl of dried beans. For every sacrifice, prayer, act of kindness or penance performed, the kids put a bean in the jar.

On Easter morning, the beans will be replaced with jelly beans and M&Ms, reminding us that the rewards of Heaven will be sweet!

Temptation in the desert

Ten years ago, when Anne was four years old, and Betsy was a toddler, I had my first inkling of real Lenten temptation.

Oh, yes, previously, I'd been tempted to eat chocolate, or to have a juicy burger on a Friday, but all that seemed quite benign in comparison to a moment at Mass, on the first weekend of Lent ten years ago.

I was a relatively new Catholic and Atticus was not even thinking of becoming Catholic. But, I was certain this would be the year that I'd be a shining, stellar example to him of patience, faith and God's love. I would let Christ shine through me so clearly, so incredibly, that my husband could not help but be touched, and could not help but run to the nearest priest and beg to be brought into the Church.

I breezed through Ash Wednesday, not even missing the things I'd given up. I was too focused on being so good, for Atticus's benefit.

On the first weekend of Lent, we went to Mass on Saturday night. Atticus came along, because he'd made a Lenten promise of his own: although he wasn't considering Catholicism, he offered to attend Mass with me every week during Lent.

Normally, he didn't go at all. And, since he stayed home, he usually kept our very little girls with him, and I zipped off to Mass alone. Though I longed for us to be "one of those families -- the ones who are together at Mass", I enjoyed the experience of entering fully, quietly into the Mass, without distractions.

So, there we were, on the first weekend of Lent, all of us. "Together at Mass."

And, I felt impatient.

And uncomfortable.

And angry.

I'd had my daughters at Mass plenty of times, but this weekend it suddenly seemed different. They were acting like ... ummm, like ... little girls. Energetic little girls. They were squirmy, and loud and fussy.

Atticus was oblivious to their antics. It was impossible for me to be oblivious. I was frustrated with all of them, including Atticus. Maybe especially Atticus.

The church was crowded, stuffy and warm. I could barely hear the readings.

But, then, I heard the priest say this:

"... led by the Spirit into the wilderness for forty days, to be tempted by the Devil."

And I was struck, perhaps for the first time, by two realities:

1. We are not alone in the desert.

2. We are being actively tempted.

We are not alone.

We, too, are led by the Spirit into the wilderness of Lent, but, we are not abandoned. And, we are not expected to do this of our own strength.

To be tempted by the devil.

Yes, certainly, I had always thought of Lent as a time of temptation, but I thought of it as "me against myself." I thought that if I had enough resolve, if I were "good enough," it would be easy.

But, suddenly, in that stuffy church, surrounded by fussy children and a husband who didn't want to be there, I realized that I'd been tempted to impatience with the very thing I longed for with my whole being.

"My husband's conversion, and family togetherness at Mass, will mean this?," I'd been thinking. Unpleasantness, distraction, impatience, anger? The desire to be here alone?

I had been tempted away from the good, away even from the desire to be the clear window through which Atticus could see Christ.

Only by God's grace was I able to see the moment for what it was:

Temptation in the desert.

But, I was not alone.

The moment was redeemed by that realization. I reclaimed my longing for my husband's conversion. I knew it would mean giving up "entering fully into the Mass alone," but it would also mean gaining a new way of entering fully into the Mass: as a family. A loud, messy, imperfect, distracted, and sometimes-frustrated family.

I knew then that many more temptations would pop up on this rocky road of my continuing conversion. I knew that there were forces at work actively trying to discourage me from praying for my husband's reception into the Church (which did not come until two years later.) I knew that these things would be, (and would feel) stronger during times of fasting, when I was hungry -- both literally and spiritually -- and vulnerable.

Lent can still be hard.

But, I know I'm not alone.

And that has made all the difference.

(This post also appears at the Catholic Exchange blog.)

Ash Wednesday

The sacrifice acceptable to God
is a broken spirit;
a broken and contrite heart,
O God, thou wilt not despise.

~~ Psalm 51: 17


And so we begin.

Today's prep for Lent: Ramona's Lamb of God

In case you missed this in the long list of ideas, I'm devoting a post to it.

On poster board, draw a picture of a lamb. Divide the body into squares to make a calendar, covering the entire period of Lent. Each day, Ramona will glue a cottonball on that day’s space. She loves this. Here are a couple pictures of last year's lamb:





















(In an effort to give credit where credit is due, I must say that the credit for this goes to someone else. I just wish I knew who! I saw a similar ideas in a little newsletter years ago. They suggested gluing cotton balls on a paper plate lamb, but I made our wall calendar instead. So, whoever you are ... you inspired this wall calendar, and we thank you!)

What to give up for Lent?

You sometimes hear the debate: Should we give up "something good" or "something bad"?

I see no reason to debate. We don't have to punch it out over this one. We just have to figure out the answer to this question: "What will help me grow closer to God?"

On the "good" side, are those who say we must give up "a good" or we're not sacrificing, a sacrifice being the giving up of an objective good for a greater good.

On the "bad" side, are those who say that giving up "something bad" (a habit, such as complaining, or smoking) is just as difficult as giving up something good, and therefore, can be a great spiritual exercise.

I declare a draw. Both sides are right.

The key's in our perception: if it's a struggle to give it up, we're inordinately attached to it.

By giving up an addiction, we're saying to God, "You are more important to me than this thing. I'm giving it up for You."

It's the act of love that counts. But, our act of love often leads to real behavioral change. When we offer an addiction for God, we find Him working on our hearts, ridding us of painful, controlling attachments.

In that sense, it's certainly an acceptable Lenten sacrifice to give up "something bad."

On the flip side, when we give up something that is objectively good, we get the joy of that thing's return on Easter Sunday. And this is a beautiful thing to experience. We see, in a small but concrete way, that sacrifice leads to Resurrection. (As I wrote in this essay, "Break out the chocolate bunnies! He is Risen!")

There's still room for debate: is chocolate an objective good* or an unhealthy addiction? What about alcohol (in moderation, of course)? Blogging? Meat every day? Desserts? TV or movies? Music?

There's often overlap. Are we addicted to what would be, in moderation, an objective good? Perhaps, come Easter, we'll find that God has helped us to let go of the attachment, and enjoy the thing as it's intended to be enjoyed. For example, there's nothing wrong with dessert. God invented sugar. But He didn't mean it to be the mainstay of our diet.

The overlap is why I often choose several things to give up -- something in the "God, help me get rid of this forever" category, and something in the "Break out the chocolate bunnies" category.

But, it's all so personal. What's easily managed for one person is a torturous attachment for another. That's why we can't really debate about the "right things" to give up for Lent.

If giving it up helps you grow closer to God, then it's the right thing for you.

***********************
*Okay, so this one is not up for debate. God invented the objective good of chocolate right after Adam, Eve and children.

Liberty and Justice for All?

Betsy: Mom, we have a problem with Ramona.

Me: What is it?

Betsy: She thinks all Austrians are bad.

Me: What? Why?

Betsy: Because Hitler was Austrian. Now she thinks all Austrians are bad.

Me: (uproarious laughter)

Betsy: Mom! This is not funny! She's prejudiced!

Me: (getting hold of myself) Okay, okay. I'll talk to her.

Betsy: Thank you. Now we can go back to playing Ann Estelle.

The Read-Aloud Legacy

I've been seeing it in action in our home. And it does this reading mother's heart good.

Overheard/seen recently:


Anne-with-an-e: "Y'know, Mom, I plan to read aloud to my children someday."

Betsy: "Mom, while you braid my hair, can I read Redwall to everyone?"

Ramona: "Mommy? Will you read to me?"

Ramona: "Mommy? Will you read to me?"

Ramona: "Mommy? Will you read to me?"

Also, in the "delightful" category:

Anne often reads to Betsy before they go to sleep at night.

Anne is reading a recent favorite -- Sara Lewis Holmes' Letters from Rapunzel -- to a long-distance friend of hers. Over the phone. Because the friend can't find the book at her library.

How fun is that?

Life is good.

I love Kim

Thanks, Kim --

You're the best!

Lent? Lent?

Yes, Lent.

Yes. That liturgical season. Soon.

The earliest Lent in nearly 100 years, apparently.

Time to start preparing. Well, past time, really, but here I am.

For tonight, just to get me you started:

Ideas from last year.

I guess I'm doing my job

Snuggling in next to her as I recently tucked her in to bed, Ramona said:

"Mommy, cuddle up to me as close as you can! Because you make me feel safe."

And one more for Poetry Friday: My Groundhog Day Shrinklit

Did I say I didn't feel much like talking?

Strike that.

If you've never seen Groundhog Day, let me just say, it's a treat.

It's thoughtful (and even theological, if you view it with a certain eye) and sweet, romantic and funny, and full of Bill Murray. I love Bill Murray (this Bill Murray, that is ... not the Bill Murray of, oh, say, "Caddyshack.")

But, back to this movie.

I wrote this little "shrinklit" about it a couple of years ago. Remember Shrinklits? They were funny, succinct little retellings of classic works. Here's my version, and best wishes for either six more weeks of winter, or perhaps only a month and a half.

Karen's Groundhog Day Shrinklit

Phil: at first, a selfish jerk
Focused on his fun and work
Women were a toy or game
Till every day became the same.

Quite suddenly, no rules apply
Steal some money, tell a lie
Nihilism's worth a spin
until despair comes crashing in

Suicide just didn't take
Surely something is at stake
Could it be that it is worth
Striving for a true rebirth?

Self improvement: worth a try?
Though all past ways it does defy?
Selflessness for its own sake?
Letting go of all that's fake?

Helping, saving, giving, tears
Authentic feelings, first in years
Letting go of all that's old
Lets in truth, releases cold

Something genuine and kind
Allows this man his best to find
Is this conversion? God at work?
Or one colossal cosmic quirk?

Poetry Friday: I'm hosting!

Your Poetry Friday hostess feels a great deal more like listening today than prattling on (my usual wont) so I will simply share with you this beautiful poem by Richard Wilbur. Then I will retreat and listen.

Mr. Linky awaits your contribution (scroll to the end of the post.)


The Beautiful Changes
by Richard Wilbur

One wading a Fall meadow finds on all sides
The Queen Anne’s Lace lying like lilies
On water; it glides
So from the walker, it turns
Dry grass to a lake, as the slightest shade of you
Valleys my mind in fabulous blue Lucernes.

The beautiful changes as a forest is changed
By a chameleon’s tuning his skin to it;
As a mantis, arranged
On a green leaf, grows
Into it, makes the leaf leafier, and proves
Any greenness is deeper than anyone knows.

(read the rest here, at the Poetry Foundation.)

And, check back later for summaries and current linkage.

Update: The current linkage begins!

Shannon, at The Cole Mine, was the first in with Eve Merriam's cute "Catch a Little Rhyme."

Suzanne, of Adventures in Daily Living, shares her latest adventure with Luci Shaw.

At The Book Mine Set, John Mutford lets us in on an original poem in progress.

Langston Hughes is wished a happy birthday by Cloudscome at A Wrung Sponge. And, as a bonus, we get a beautiful, original roundel.

Stacey, at Two Writing Teachers is green today, with I Am a Tree.

Marvel with Countee Cullen and Mary Lee at A Year of Reading.

Tricia, at The Miss Rumphius Effect, has the Secret to the Universe.

And, don't forget to take a look at Tricia's roundel challenge, part of her regular Poetry Stretch.

Look to Look Books with Felicity for a powerful poem by Langston Hughes.

Sara Lewis-Holmes, of Read Write Believe, is in with a diabolical little poem that will make every writer laugh.

Andrea offers a sneaky introduction to fractions in verse at Just One More Book!!

TadMack, from Finding Wonderland, captures the essence of a bitter winter, with help from Shakespeare.

Laura Salas took Tricia's roundel challenge and has her famous 15 Words or Less here.

Elaine has a colorful and tasty review of Yum! MmMm! Que Rico! at Wild Rose Reader.

And at Blue Rose Girls, Elaine reflects on a windowless world.

Dive into Jama Rattigan's Alphabet Soup for a jam-packed post about the connections between poetry and painting.

Sylvia Vardel commemorates the birthday of Langston Hughes with a poem by Walter Dean Myers at Poetry for Children.

Writer2b includes among her Findings a lovely piece by Wendell Berry. And, be sure to pay attention to that gorgeous Winslow Homer in her banner.

Ruth, who knows There's No Such Thing as a God-forsaken Town, offers us Philip Larkin's Days, as she spends a day with an eye on the spectrum of life and death.

Christine's children write simple and extraordinary stuff over at The Simple and the Ordinary. Enjoy a sneak peek at summer on this frigid February day, courtesy of Christine's daughter, KRM.

Shelf Elf gets right to the point, with February, by Margaret Atwood.

Kelly Fineman is Writing and Ruminating on the poetry of Sting (or, perhaps through Kelly's eyes: the poetry that is Sting?)

Anastasia Suen detects a mystery in rhyme at Picture Book a Day.

My own Atticus (why don't you have a blog, honey?) offers Spring and All by William Carlos Williams. And, ummm, Atticus ... This is Just to Say ... that Sam Adams that was in the fridge ....? Just kidding.

Liz in Ink looks at practice, process and perspective, in piano lessons and in life.

Sheila mercifully points out that February is temporary over at The Greenridge Chronicles.

At Knocking from Inside, Tiel Aisha Ansari gives us a sad and lovely original poem.

Becky offers a full review of Henry's Freedom Box and pairs it with a poem.

MsMac shares the joy of revision through the eyes of a 2nd grader.

Jill has us sighing over Yeats at The Well-Read Child.

And Mother Reader is kicking off Black History Month with the powerful and poetic words of Martin Luther King, Jr.

Have you had enough of alphabet books? Of course you haven't. No one possibly could. So, go take a look at another one, at Susan's Chicken Spaghetti, that is a clever mix of rhyme and riddle.

Donna Lupe proves that food and poetry can be the same thing.

AmoXcalli is speaking French after a long hiatus.

At Charlotte's Library, there's a collection of great stuff from Doug Florian, guaranteed to recharge a 7-year old.

AnaMaria at Books Together picks up where Susan's quilt theme left off with a "quilted fairy tale."

Speaking of fairy tales, Alyssa at The Shady Glade has one, too, by Anne Sexton.

In Marcie's World of Words, Jane Yolen is shaping the rhyme today, with a terrific nature/poetry book.

Elizabeth at Frabjous Days is most anxious to share a Victor Hugo poem. Click over and you'll see why.

At Farm School, Becky has one of my favorites, W.H. Davies.

And, rounding up a few more from the comments section:

Miss Erin is in, and Lisa C. has a post about animal adoption (I'm dedicating that one to my sister, who will soon adopt two new puppies!) And, finally, Sarah from The Reading Zone reminds us that the kids are watching us. Always.

Whoosh!

That's it! You're rounded up and I'm linked out. No, wait! Stop the Publish button! This just in: Sarah Miller was so busy today Reading, Writing, Musing ... that we just now got her entry. But, Emily Dickinson is always worth the wait.

Hey, Kim ... we need a new button:

I survived Poetry Friday.

Thanks, everyone!