Always Never...

That is my mood this week. My house is always NEVER clean. My kids are always NEVER in the mood to learn, be kind, or be clean. I realize none of this is true (about the kids, not the house - THAT is true.), but it feels true sometimes. For instance, i swept the floor, which already needs to be swept again, and in the pile?

-a naked barbie
-5 popsicle wrappers
-chewed gum
-disturbing amounts of hair
-cheerios
-legos
-corn

This happens every. day. We own a trash can, many of them. But things are thrown on the floor. Usually causing me to become overwhelmed with emotions and be holding back very angry, hurt, and frustrated tears, and start mentally saying things i can't say out loud. I know, i know, i shouldn't think those things either, but it happens. Messiness causes me to feel more crazy than normal. And since our house is almost always in some state of extreme mess, i guess i'm not sure what it's like to feel normal. If you open closets, you are greeted by an avalanche - depending on what closet, you get different results. Most of the time, you can't see the floors in the kids bedrooms. There are splatters of i don't know what on every surface. Baseball gear everywhere. 4 bikes and a jog stroller IN. MY. LIVINGROOM. I just want a clean house. Apparently, no one else feels the same.

Also on the always never list? Feeling like i know what i am doing with homeschooling. This is all we have ever done. I should have it in the bag. And some days, i feel pretty good. THEN...you get around those Moms. The ones who are teaching their 1yr old the art of hieroglyphics on real papyrus sent from Cairo, their 3yr old how to speak fluent Hebrew while they recreate the temple scene where Jesus knocked over the store tables in clay (to be later put in the fire kiln they MADE, glazed and made into a statue..*sigh*), the 6 year old does advanced calculus, plays the harp, and gives lectures at the art museum, and the 8 yr old has a college degree and is preparing to go on to medical school, and just to put more salt in the wound - they are all happy. They love to learn. They want to learn. And that Moms house is clean. I'm not even kidding when i say i sometimes drive around longer after these "play dates" because i don't want to go home to my messy house. I don't know how they do it. I make myself feel better saying, "they don't have 5 kids...they don't have a toddler"...but usually, they do. And they make it work. Gloriously.

Oh, and i have also been known to go on Facebook or Amazon on my phone when a group of wonder-Moms start talking curriculum. Because i always never know what they are even talking about.

Wonder-Mom, "Did you try the new level of science busters, phase 6, with the block of learning charts, number settings, pyramid set-up, and extra blaaa blaaa blaaa"
Me, *thinking*, "well hello, Amazon...yes, i do need k-cups and a yellow scarf".

And then we get home from these play dates, i open the door, get smacked in the face with an aroma i can't figure out (never a good one), i get coffee, take 3 ibuprofen....and maybe i watch Housewives of New Jersey, and wish i had a ridiculous tan, ridiculous nails, and fun clothes. Because you know what else? I always never look nice - for more than about 5 minutes. I sweat. I have a toddler. I spill my coffee. I get oatmeal wiped on me while said toddler smiles.

I don't even have a point with writing this today...i just wonder if anyone else feels like this. Where you are always hoping and waiting for the "perfect" to start, but in reality, you need to accept the giant, sticky, sweaty, mess that your life is. And...ugh...here it comes... ENJOY it. Easier said than done. But i'm trying.
~Sue

Homeschooling Almost Got Me Arrested

Today I'm either going to confirm to all of you that at least one of us is indeed crazy for real, or give you a timely warning about the dangers of homeschooling.  Because last night I narrowly escaped being arrested, and I blame it all on homeschooling.

No, this wasn't something noble, like a protest march for the rights of homeschoolers everywhere.  I live in NJ where we have it pretty good.  And I'm not sure we care about the rights of homeschoolers everywhere.  No, this all started out a few weeks ago with a simple little traffic ticket.  And that DEFINITELY happened because I homeschool.

You see, April and May have been beyond hectic.  There's the normal push to get in those last important lessons before summer break.  There's the call of the outdoors, and children resisting that last push.  There's end of the year standardized testing.  There's planning for next school year (and co-op sessions).  There are spring sports.  (Oh man!!!! Are there spring sports!)  There are concerts and recitals and practices for concerts and recitals.  And all of this adds up to hours in my car.  With children who are not always happy to be with me in the car.

So on one of these hectic days, I was driving through a congested little town, with some major squabbling and fussing going on in the back seats, and just as I reached a pedestrian crosswalk, I noticed traffic in the lane next to the curb screeching to a halt and a tiny little old man (possibly with a cane) stepping off the curb.  I don't want to sound disrespectful about this gentleman, who might possibly take exception to the words I have used to describe him if he ever stumbles onto this blog and reads about himself, however, he was not big, which is important because I couldn't see him over the vehicles that were next to me, and in fact, I didn't see him until I was partway across the crosswalk.  Which led me to make a split-second decision, w/ a quick glance in my rear-view mirror, where I saw a big white car that appeared to be very close to me, and I decided that slamming on my brakes and stopping short might very well lead to getting rear-ended.  And really, that gentleman was not going to be reaching my lane any time in the next 60 seconds.  So I went through the crosswalk with a police car right behind me.

Yep, he pulled me over and gave me a ticket that would give me a lot of points on my license.  And told me that I should contest the ticket and the judge would change the fine to something that would not give me any points.  (Ahhhh, the joys of a penal system that makes so much sense.)  I did check w/ my girlfriend experts before I followed this advice, and called the number on the ticket to tell them I was going to contest it, and here is where my distracted, homeschooling brain once again failed me.  The lady on the other end of the line said "OK, we'll call you."  Or she might have said "OK, I'll call you."  I'm not 100% sure which it was, but I am QUITE clear about the message that I would be called.  This was such a relief to me!!  I did not have to even think about this any more until I received a call.  Hooray!  Back to the homeschool race.

And on Monday, when standardized testing was complete, many recitals and practices and sports practices/games behind me, I took a deep breath, and thought, hmmmm, nobody ever called about that ticket.  I should probably call and see what's going on.  However, I didn't, and Tuesday evening, my husband brought in the mail, which contained a legal notice.  I thought, whew, they scheduled the court date.  But those of you who actually know how the legal system works (as opposed to me, who is clearly winging it and not in a good way) know that this was not that.  Oh no.  This was a notice that an arrest warrant had been sworn out for me (FOR ME!!!!) for failing to show at my court date.  Because the court date had been put automatically on the ticket and I should NOT have been waiting for a different one.

I did not panic immediately.  I tried to call all of the numbers for the court that I could find.  Of course they were all recordings at that time of night.  Then I started to google information about arrest warrants.  I began to panic, but kept it to a minor panic since part of me realized that this was a $100 bail issue, and surely people writing those pages out in google-land were talking armed robbery.  Or drugs or something.  I sent a few messages out on the girlfriend network.  Full-blown panic set in when the girlfriend who is married to a former police officer said something along the lines of "GO. Smokin' hot husband says GO NOW to the police station and get it straightened out!!"  (No, she didn't say smokin' hot husband then, but she says it all the rest of the time, so that's why I added that.)  I appreciate that she didn't spell out "or you could spend a night in jail" but frankly, she didn't have to.  My imagination logical brain was working pretty actively by then.

Full-blown panic is not pretty.  I did make sure to shower before I left the house because if I was going to be arrested I at least wanted to smell clean and I had just done 3 miles on my elliptical.  I was quite sure that nobody shows up at a police station soaked with sweat to turn herself in.  I wondered if they would put hand cuffs on me when I had surrendered myself to the police voluntarily.  I contemplated if I should smile for my mug shot or not.  I briefly regretted watching so much Law & Order in days gone by, as it seemed to be fueling my over-active imagination.  My hands trembled a bit on the steering wheel as I drove to the police station.  Wanted Person coming off the lam to turn herself in.  (I've always wanted to be "on the lam" at least once in my life.  But it wasn't as much fun as it sounds.)

And I ended up waiting for 20 minutes or more in the police station lobby until a very nice police officer opened up the lobby window, proceeded to call me "Miss" enough times that I started to find him very attractive, and seemed pretty amused by my state of panic.  (For the record, I did not cry.)  He said several times that this was not a big deal.  I signed a couple of papers, he explained to me very clearly (Thank you, Lord! for somebody who talks to me like I am a very slow person, because I really am at this stage of the game.) when my new court date is, and I only realized later that I had signed my own bail agreement (For $0 - SURREAL!!!) In short, I was feeling pretty good until I turned to walk away and he said "Now keep those papers on you for the next few days because you still could get arrested until the system clears."  Wha . . . .?!?!

So.  There you have it.  How homeschooling is dangerous, almost got me arrested, AND proof that I am completely crazy and not that smart any more.

Although, now that I think about it, if I have a signed bail agreement, I guess I technically WAS arrested????

~Stephanie

Behind Every Good Woman . . .

OK, I am just going to admit it: I am a complainer.  Even though (as a good Christian homeschooling mom should) I have had my kids memorize that verse "Do all things without disputing and complaining, . . ." and I even make them copy it out when THEIR complaining reaches fever pitch, I personally indulge in quite a bit of complaining and whining.  I call it venting, of course, and I justify it in the name of releasing some pent-up emotion and thus being able to recapture some self-control, but I'll admit (just for now) that it's questionable theology at best.

The focus of many of my complaints is my husband, and I try to be respectful in public and on-line, but still, the man gets on my nerves.  Not to say that it's not more about me being high maintenance, but whatever.  This post isn't about me.  ;)  No, this post is actually about me waking up on Friday and realizing that, even though I like to think that I'm a pretty amazing struggling to be normal homeschooling mom, what I actually accomplish in a day is due to an amazing man.

First of all, not every mom can stay home all day.  Homeschooling is a grueling job, and the fact that I don't have to struggle to balance that with another job is a tribute to my husband sticking it out and even going the extra mile in a job that doesn't always "fulfill" him.  In fact, I'm not sure we've ever had a conversation about how fulfilling his job is.  Hmmmmm.  And it's a rare day that he comes home and gives me grief about how any of my jobs are being handled - teacher, cook, bill payer, house cleaner, laundress, etc.  Somehow I even have him helping me w/ my jobs - reading to the kids for at least an hour every night, some cleaning, some cooking, and doing all of the gardening.

Friday he found out that he won a project competition at work.  Here's the part that was a wake-up call for me.  I wasn't that surprised.  You see, he's won so many awards at work I can't even keep them all straight.  I was about to be excited about another innovation award and read his email a second time to see that it was an efficiency competition.  The man is amazing.  And smart.  And aside from an occaisional spending spree on power tools, and his weekly grocery shopping trip (yep, he does that too) he gives me his entire paycheck!!!

OK, enough of the love-fest.  Soon enough I will be dreaming of a Mom's Retreat away from this kind, generous and absent-minded man who leaves apple cores everywhere he has been sitting in the house and can walk past a crying, bleeding child without even noticing.  For now, I'll dream of one with him.

~Stephanie

Coffee, cleaning, teething, math...

So, this first post of mine might sum me up fairly well. My two middle daughters, almost 8 and 6 years old, told a friend that they don't do school, "we wait for the baby to cry and then sneak off, because then Mom will forget". That one might be true sometimes. The almost 8 year old asked me why i think it's ok to " sleep alllll the time". This, i can tell you without a shadow of a doubt, is not true. My almost 17 month old views NOT sleeping as a sport she would like to perfect, and most nights (days?!), i am just getting to sleep around 4:30am, and she will do a 3 hour stretch for me. Today, angels sang, as she slept 4 hours in a row! I woke up at 9:30, to the sounds of Just Dance and someone riding (ok, crashing) the baby's ride-on Mickey Mouse train into things.

But we did get school done, regardless of what the middle girls will tell people. My oldest are in 4th and 5th grade, and i will tell you i LOATHE the math. Throw almost anything else at me, i'm golden...math? No  dice. I start to sweat, and say ridiculous things ("i'm gonna find whoever invented math and punch them in the face!!!"....really? yup. I have said that.), and just generally whine until it's over. My 11 year old daughter and almost 10 year old son, sit there patiently waiting for me to calm down and stop throwing fits. Or they laugh. It's true.

On a daily basis i'm in the midst of cleaning, throwing things away when no one is looking, day-dreaming about public school (just kidding...ish), paying bills late (ok, VERY late), feeling like a zombie, worrying about not being a good Mommy or teacher, thinking about curriculum for the Fall, wondering if i am going too far if i buy myself a new broom off of Amazon.com, and trying to make a few more meals out of what we have in the fridge because i don't want to shop before the weekend.

Most days i feel like a hot mess...But i'd like to think i'm eccentric, quirky, and endearing - you know, like crazy women in movies always seem. Anyway, this is me. Coffee breath, laundry in the washer that i ran for the 5th time because i keep forgetting about it, and fingernails (and skin) painted by a 6 year old. Welcome to my life:)
~Sue

Ah, the joys of boys!

Ah, the joys of boys... When they reach a certain age later on in elementary school, they begin wearing a new fragrance.  It is called the "swamp smell."

I have found that it doesn't matter if you live on property with a pond or on a property without much nature at all in a congested area.  This smell seems to inhabit boys coming from different families, cultures, and places.  It is also clear that they must be proud of this smell.  

The gasps and sighs when given specific instruction every. single. time these boys head toward the shower is a clear indicator that they actually like the swamp smell.  It is as if even the thought of soap causes them to shudder in fear of that kind of clean smell coming in contact with their body.  It seems that this soap insults them and wounds them deeply.  

(To be fair, the fragrance actually changes slightly when a shower has been taken without the use of soap.  This is called the "wet dog smell."  It might be worse since it is just a plain waste of good water.) 

Neither smell is appealing to the average adult human, but for some strange reason these boys wear these smells proudly.  It's a good thing that as mothers we can love them regardless of their smell.  

~Michelle