I love a parade ...

Today our town had a Memorial Day parade and all 3 of my boys were in it. Adam marched with Cub Scouts and Jared and Eric marched with 4-H. There's nothing quite like a small town parade. Let's see ... there was the obligatory veterans in cool cars, the beauty queen wearing a tiara (she's 7), a few bagpipe dudes, the Boy Scouts & Cub Scouts, our little 4-H group, the school band and then the obligatory fire trucks and ambulances. That's it. It takes about 10 minutes to pass by.

The parade route is longish (though I don't know how long exactly). I wasn't sure my 4 year old would make it but I wasn't up to walking with him. I sat at about the half way point in case he needed to jump out. When he reached me he was practically running. He was so thrilled to be part of the parade. He waved and blew kisses. I'll upload pictures once I figure out how to get my camera port working again.

I saw friends and neighbors, people from baseball and basketball, Scout families and people I haven't met yet. We all went to the flag ceremony after the parade and the boys were well behaved for the readings, prayers and songs. I was proud.

It's been a long week ...

I missed my computer. I picked it up at the computer doctor today and we've got it running again. Yeah!

Regular readers remember me saying I was going to the doctor for a physical. My first physical in over 20 years. I have a wonderful new doctor and was thrilled with the thorough physical I received. On Tuesday of this week I got a call from my doctor who asked me to come in right away to go over my lab results.

Based on the lab results I've been diagnosed with Hyperthyroidism. I knew I wasn't feel quite well - funny symptoms I'd been attributing to hypoglycemia - but I never suspected that I had a serious problem. In the two weeks since I had my physical, I've been getting progressively more sick. Now I'm sick for much of the day.

I've been referred to an endicrinologist but all of them are scheduling for many weeks from now. My doctor is working to get me a faster appointment. I'm feeling impatient, frustrated and somewhat depressed. I don't feel well at all, we know what the problem is and I want it FIXED. NOW.

I'm still trying to have as much of a normal life as possible. I rest a lot and eat all the time. I've lost 10 pounds. My eyes hurt when I read the computer so I'll be limiting my time for now.

Broken computer

GRRRRR...
Computer is in the shop. Very sick. I thought it might be back today but it's not. Just a short note on a borrowed computer to say I can't wait to be back.

Casey at the Bat

Casey at the Bat
by Ernest Lawrence Thayer

The outlook wasn't brilliant for the Mudville nine that day:
The score stood four to two, with but one inning more to play,
And then when Cooney died at first, and Barrows did the same,
A pall-like silence fell upon the patrons of the game.

A straggling few got up to go in deep despair. The rest
Clung to that hope which springs eternal in the human breast;
They thought, "If only Casey could but get a whack at that—
We'd put up even money now, with Casey at the bat.

But Flynn preceded Casey, as did also Jimmy Blake,
And the former was a hoodoo, while the latter was a cake;
So upon that stricken multitude grim melancholy sat,
For there seemed but little chance of Casey getting to the bat.

But Flynn let drive a single, to the wonderment of all,
And Blake, the much despisèd, tore the cover off the ball;
And when the dust had lifted, and men saw what had occurred,
There was Jimmy safe at second and Flynn a-hugging third.

Then from five thousand throats and more there rose a lusty yell;
It rumbled through the valley, it rattled in the dell;
It pounded on the mountain and recoiled upon the flat,
For Casey, mighty Casey, was advancing to the bat.

There was ease in Casey's manner as he stepped into his place;
There was pride in Casey's bearing and a smile lit Casey's face.
And when, responding to the cheers, he lightly doffed his hat,
No stranger in the crowd could doubt 'twas Casey at the bat.

Ten thousand eyes were on him as he rubbed his hands with dirt;
Five thousand tongues applauded when he wiped them on his shirt;
Then while the writhing pitcher ground the ball into his hip,
Defiance flashed in Casey's eye, a sneer curled Casey's lip.

And now the leather-covered sphere came hurtling through the air,
And Casey stood a-watching it in haughty grandeur there.
Close by the sturdy batsman the ball unheeded sped—
"That ain't my style," said Casey. "Strike one!" the umpire said.

From the benches, black with people, there went up a muffled roar, Like the beating of the storm-waves on a stern and distant shore;
"Kill him! Kill the umpire!" shouted someone on the stand;
And it's likely they'd have killed him had not Casey raised his hand.

With a smile of Christian charity great Casey's visage shone;
He stilled the rising tumult; he bade the game go on;
He signaled to the pitcher, and once more the dun sphere flew;
But Casey still ignored it and the umpire said, "Strike two!"

"Fraud!" cried the maddened thousands, and echo answered "Fraud!"
But one scornful look from Casey and the audience was awed.
They saw his face grow stern and cold, they saw his muscles strain,
And they knew that Casey wouldn't let that ball go by again.

The sneer is gone from Casey's lip, his teeth are clenched in hate,
He pounds with cruel violence his bat upon the plate;
And now the pitcher holds the ball, and now he lets it go,
And now the air is shattered by the force of Casey's blow.

Oh, somewhere in this favoured land the sun is shining bright,
The band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light;
And somewhere men are laughing, and somewhere children shout,
But there is no joy in Mudville—mighty Casey has struck out.

Urban flight

So MFS has been talking about urban flight and I have to say I just don't get it. I'm not sure what's bad about living in the suburbs - but then I'm not even entirely sure what suburbs are.

I live in a state that has a few cities and those cities probably wouldn't even qualify as cities in another state. Some people believe our cities are really just a suburb of Boston (which is in another state). I grew up in the largest city in the state and I don't remember anything positive about living in the city.

Right now I live in a rural town in a rural state. The population is around 4,000. There are no street lights or traffic lights, no grocery store or Walmart, no museums or zoos ... Instead we have a beautiful lake for swimming and boating, mountains for hiking, clean air, fresh well water, and lots of space. My children play outside unsupervised and my oldest roams around on his own or with friends. We don't lock our house or our cars and I've never heard anything exciting happen in our town.

When we play baseball or go to the lake or stop at the General Store we usually run into someone we know. People know my kids and I know theirs. When I go grocery shopping I always run into people I know from Scouts or sports or the neighborhood. It's a good feeling.

It would be nice to be able to go to museums without all the hassle of trying to get into the city (Boston is only 1 hour away). It would be nice to have more cultural opportunities for me and the boys. It would be nice to have a more diverse population. These things would all be nice but our life is wonderful. I wouldn't trade a thing.

More baseball lessons

I've mentioned before how much I love Adam's baseball coach this year. The man is amazing! He gives everything he's got to the boys. He has very high expectations for them and they all want to please him. He is more than willing to take some chances and makes all the boys feel like superstars.

I received this email from Coach after Adam's last game:

At one point late in the game, Adam was standing at the backstop and said something kinda remarkable. I don't remember who was batting, But Adam said something to the effect of "C'mon...bring honor to our team...to the Wolves" I was
really moved. He's like a little Samurai: So serious about his playing.

Adam brings honor to us.

How could a mother not be moved by these words?

Adam may not be the strongest player out there but he has the biggest heart.

Experimenting

I'm doing a little experiment to see how the new template is working - trying to see if the comments appear or not.

I also need to update my template with Dy's new blog. She has a link to the Free State Project on the top of her blog now and I keep meaning to ask her when she's planning to move to NH. We'd love to meet her and her boys.

Jeff is taking all the boys (and one neighbor boy) to see Shrek 2 this afternoon. Wow. Quiet and alone time.

I should nap or do some lesson planning or even read Oliver Twist (which I should have finished a week ago) but I think I might spend some time playing on the computer. Jeff rented a movie for us to watch together tonight. He's such a great guy.

Week in review

It's been so difficult to find the time to blog with my mom here. I need some private space to blog and I just don't have that with mom here.

Week in review:
After a very rough baseball practice on Monday night, Adam and I had a heart to heart. I need to reexamine how I support him and encourage him. He's concerned that he's letting me down and doesn't want to disappoint me. We went back to the batting cages and I finally got him to try a new batting stance. Wowza! He was hitting the balls like crazy and couldn't have been happier.

On Wednesday, Adam had another game. His coach let Adam start at short stop. The game was long and rough but Adam did a fine job at short stop, then played second base. Most important, he got his first hit! A line drive. He was thrilled. He also got hit by the ball. Again. For the fourth time this season. He knows how to shake it off.

On Friday, Adam broke his front tooth. Again. For the fourth time since October. We had another emergency trip to the dentist. They bonded up the tooth again and I insisted they come up with a plan for the next time this happens.

I was able to spend some time alone with my mom. We went out for dinner by ourselves. It's always nice to be able to chat without competing for attention with the boys. I only see her for about 12 days a year. I wish she lived closer so the boys could see her more. They just love having her around. Jared cried this morning when his tee ball game was cancelled due to rain because my mom would miss his game.

I'm grateful that my mom is young and healthy and that she'll be around for a long time but I'll never quite forgive her for moving so far away. I grew up with my grandparents living very close by and I was able to spend tons of time with them. I wish my boys had the same opportunity. *sigh*

No baseball today because of rain. It's cold and dreary outside. I think I'll spend some time catching up on housework and fixing up my blog.

Good bribery

I know that many people feel bribery is wrong and I understand all the arguments but I firmly believe bribery, errr .... I mean rewards, is a good thing. We have a long standing tradition in our homeschool of giving the boys a reward when they finish a workbook or other large school project.

This morning Adam finished Primary Mathematics 4. An entire year's worth of hard work completed. I was prepared and gave him Emeril's There's a Chef in My Soup! Recipes for the Kid in Everyone. He immediately sat down to see if he could find something for dinner. He chose the Barbeque Chicken Wrap with Quick and Crunchy Coleslaw. I was only too happy to go to the store to buy the necessary ingredients.

As he was looking through the book he found a few other recipes he'd like to make. Although he's never eaten my chili (which is quite good if I do say so myself), when he saw a recipe for chili he said, "I'd try that if I made it myself." I'll have Adam cook dinner on Thursday while my mom is here.

Life stories

I hear the greatest things on NPR. Unfortunately, I only listen while I'm in the car so I often only hear part of stories. Tonight I heard part of a piece about the stories we all tell. You know the stories I mean - they're the ones that you tell everyone, the ones that you know you've repeated a million times.

On the NPR show, the speaker said that if you're in a relationship for more than one night you're going to hear the same story from your partner over and over again. It was interesting to hear how husbands and wives responded to the stories that they've heard before. It made me think about how I respond when my husband repeats one of his stories.

Tonight I drove my oldest son and a couple of friends to the batting cages a few towns away. It was dark on the ride home and we started talking about all kinds of things. At one point I was telling the boys about when I lived in Vermont. We had a family of skunks that lived under our cabin and I had to learn to trap and relocate all of them. Part way through the story, Adam said, "I remember this story". I realized that I tell this story to most people I know for more than a week. It's a good story and I enjoy sharing it.

The stories that we choose to share, the ones we repeat over and over, define who we are and who we want to be. What are your stories?

Private parts

Just today I realized that I have a very strong opinion about children referring to their body parts by their correct names.

On a homeschool e-loop there has been a discussion today about what to teach your children to call their "private parts". I honestly did not know that this was an issue. I have three boys and each one of them has a penis. It doesn't seem terribly alarming to teach them to say "penis". I must admit it seems much, much worse to have a child referring to body parts in code as though there are certain parts of the body that are so shameful one can not even call them by name.

I can't think of anything more ridiculous than a little boy calling his penis a "wee wee" or some other silly name. At what point does the child learn the correct terminology and would he ever be comfortable using it? I can just picture a teenage boy or a grown man going to the doctor because he has a problem with his wee wee. Sheesh!

Like I said, I didn't even realize I had such a strong opinion until I heard the comments from other mothers. The most common reason given for why children must use code words is because adults hearing children say penis or vagina become "alarmed". Alarmed? With all the things going on in the world today can anyone truly become alarmed because a 3 year old child tells his mother at a ball game that his penis is itchy? Why would that be more alarming than having a back that is itchy?

Please.

Long time no blog ...

I just haven't felt like I've had the mental energy to blog. I'm not sure that I've even had very many thoughts in the last week. It's been crazy around here. I'm not sure where to start.

My sister came down with a mysterious illness which has kept her confined to her bed and unable to care for her children. My mother decided to come to visit almost 3 weeks earlier than she had planned. I went to a new doctor and had a great physical. I visited Nana. Baseball 4 times a week.

It's interesting that those of us who homeschool and are not tied to a school year calendar still get caught up in it. May and June are always busy, busy months. Everything is coming to a finale. Scouts gets super busy in preparation for a big summer slow down. Baseball is a short, busy season. Our Homeschool Resource Center was open for the last time today and won't reopen until September. We're even finishing up school books (only one exercise left in Singapore 4B).

******************************************************************
My mother was with us today. The boys haven't seen her since last August. They were all SO excited to see her. They've been show offs all day. I love seeing my mother with my boys - she doesn't even resemble the woman who raised me. It's nice to see her but the visits are always too short. She will go to my sister's tomorrow to help her out and she'll return to see us next week. We'll only see her about 10 days the whole month she'll be in the state.

******************************************************************
I always learn a lot during baseball season. It's a very character building sport. One thing I'm trying to learn this season is to not let things bother me that don't bother my son. If he doesn't care if he starts the game even though he's attended every practice from start to finish, it shouldn't bother me.

Adam has an amazing coach and he's learning some great life lessons. I imagine he'll remember this coach for a long time. He's the kind of man who sends the boys down for push ups for talking while he's talking. He's also the kind of man who takes the worst player on the team over to a corner of the field to practice while the rest of the boys practice with an assistant. He's their toughest critic and their biggest cheerleader.

******************************************************************
I'm going to try to find the time to get her more often. I've got to go spend some time with my mother.

Pray for Peace

I thought I'd take the occasion of Mother's Day to repeat one of my favorite prayers. All mothers everywhere want peace.

Prayer for Peace by Ellen Bass

Pray to whoever you kneel down to:

Jesus nailed to his wooden or marble or plastic
cross, his suffering face bent to kiss you,
Buddha still under the Bo tree in scorching heat,
Yahweh, Allah, raise your arms to Mary
that she may lay her palm on our brows,
to Shekinhah, Queen of Heaven and Earth,
to Inanna in her stripped descent.

Hawk or Wolf, or the Great Whale, Record Keeper
of time before, time now, time ahead, pray. Bow
down to terriers and shepherds and siamese cats.

Fields of artichokes and elegant strawberries.

Pray to the bus driver who takes you to work,
pray on the bus, pray for everyone riding that bus
and for everyone riding buses all over the world.

If you haven't been on a bus in a long time,
climb the few steps, drop some silver, and pray.

Waiting in line for the movies, for the ATM,
for your latté and croissant, offer your plea.

Make your eating and drinking a supplication.

Make your slicing of carrots a holy act,
each translucent layer of the onion, a deeper prayer.

Make the brushing of your hair
a prayer, every strand its own voice,
singing in the choir on your head.

As you wash your face, the water slipping
through your fingers, a prayer: Water,
softest thing on earth, gentleness
that wears away rock.

Making love, of course, is already a prayer.
Skin and open mouths worshipping that skin,
the fragile case we are poured into,
each caress a season of peace.

If you're hungry, pray. If you're tired.

Pray to Gandhi and Dorothy Day.
Shakespeare. Sappho. Sojourner Truth.
Pray to the angels and the ghost of your grandfather.

When you walk to your car, to the mailbox,
to the video store, let each step
be a prayer that we all keep our legs,
that we do not blow off anyone else's legs.
Or crush their skulls.

And if you are riding on a bicycle
or a skateboard, in a wheel chair, each revolution
of the wheels a prayer that as the earth revolves
we will do less harm, less harm, less harm.

And as you work, typing with a new manicure,
a tiny palm tree painted on one pearlescent nail
or delivering soda or drawing good blood
into rubber-capped vials, writing on a blackboard
with yellow chalk, twirling pizzas, pray for peace.

With each breath in, take in the faith of those
who have believed when belief seemed foolish,
who persevered. With each breath out, cherish.

Pull weeds for peace, turn over in your sleep for peace,
feed the birds for peace, each shiny seed
that spills onto the earth, another second of peace.

Wash your dishes, call your mother, drink wine.
Shovel leaves or snow or trash from your sidewalk.

Make a path. Fold a photo of a dead child
around your VISA card. Gnaw your crust
of prayer, scoop your prayer water from the gutter.

Mumble along like a crazy person, stumbling
your prayer through the streets.

Mail call

One of the great things in life is receiving wonderful mail. While I love to receive cards and letters from friends and family, they are few and far between in this age of email. Today I received three wonderful things in the mail:

1. A package from Land's End containing clothes my mother in law bought me for my birthday. Two items were back ordered so that means I get to anticipate receiving another package.

2. My order from Nothing New Press for The Story of the Middle Ages by Christine Miller. At first glance it looks very interesting and I can't wait to sit down and read a few chapters.

3. My Chinaberry catalogue. I love the Chinaberry catalog almost as much as I like The Common Reader catalogue. Chinaberry lists wonderful children's books. This month they listed a book I've been talking about for months - Dr. Ernest Drake's Dragonology: The Complete Book of Dragons. If you haven't checked out this book yet please do so. You won't regret it.

*sigh*

I don't usually write political entries. I just can't get those pictures of Iraqi prisoners being tortured and humiliated by United States' soldiers out of my mind.

I first heard the story on NPR - driving in my minivan with my children. I was horror struck. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. When I got home I searched for more information on the 'net. All the news now is about how high up the level of command did this go. How long did people know this was going on and did nothing about it?

I thought we were fighting a war on terrorism. I thought we were trying to make the United States a safer place. How can the Arab world not hate the United States even more after these horrible acts? I do not feel more safe. I feel like the United States has a huge target on it. Our President went on television to "talk" to the Iraqi people. He called the acts "abhorrent" but he never apologized. 7 soldiers involved received letters of reprimand but no criminal punishment. Why would soldiers not receive criminal punishment for "abhorrent" acts?

Right now I can't get the pictures of the two soldiers - a man and a woman - giving thumbs up for the cameras. The picture of the woman pointing at a naked Iraqi man's genitals and laughing. I wonder what their parents must feel. My heart grieves for the Iraqi people who suffered so much under their leader and now suffer more under the military of the United States.

Not your ordinary 7-year-old
On the surface, Paige W’s birthday party looked like that of your typical American 7-year-old: balloons stretched to the ceiling, fun activities were planned for the seven friends attending, and a birthday cake sporting candles rested on the kitchen counter awaiting its grand entrance.

But under the surface was a striking uniqueness. This generous-spirited little girl turned the tables this year and used her birthday as an opportunity to give rather than receive.

Paige is my niece.

Give Google a try

I do not have patience in abundance.
I do not suffer fools gladly.

I am a member of a statewide email group. The group has members from all over the state. It's a great place to ask questions about the state homeschooling law, suggest or request field trip ideas, find other homeschoolers who live in your general area, or request homeschool advice or assistance.

I am constantly amazed at the homeschooling mothers who write to the list to ask questions that could easily be solved by a quick Google search. One of my favorites was something like, "I want to use living books to teach American history to my children. Does anyone have any suggestions?" Another good one was, "We want to study Ancient Egypt. Could you recommend any resources?"

These are not difficult subjects to find information about and yet when I provided exhaustive lists of books (which I found using Google in less than a minute or so), I was treated as a Goddess of Knowledge. I always mention that I found this information using Google and even give the search terms I used.

I wonder about the homeschooling parents who can not even do basic research. I know that I don't know very much about anything but I can find the information. I know how to look. I'm teaching my children that if we don't know the answer to something we can find it. Just this morning, my oldest son asked me, "What does the 'D' in D-Day stand for?" Truthfully, I had no idea. A simple question posed at Ask.com gave us the answer.

They're gone ...

The inlaws have come and gone. We had a nice weekend. Really. They're not the people I would choose to spend a weekend with but they are my boys' grandparents. My mother in law only made a few obnoxious comments (which is to be expected). One was about my hair (again, expected) and the other was a homeschooling comment. As they are generally very agreeable when it comes to homeschooling I let it pass. I think my mistake was giving them a copy of Home Education Magazine (the one with our Resource Center article in it).

They are good granparents and my boys love them. Eric won them over with his exhuberance. Jared impressed them by reading Henry and Mudge to them. Adam talked baseball with his grandfather and was pleasant enough. They were just pleased to spend some time with the boys.

Saturday night we went out to dinner at the Bow Lake Inn. We had a lovely time and my inlaws even paid the babysitter. It's always a big treat for us to eat in a nice restaurant.

We won't see them again until July when we go on vacation. My mother in law has offered to treat me to a haircut at her salon. I told her I'd take her up on her offer. My hair means more to her than it does to me. If she wants me to get a hair cut, I'll get one and she'll be very happy.