A Time of Transition Requires a New Name

This blog started back in 2008 as a mommy blog. Or, more accurately, a place to compile the insanity of my life -- specifically with my son's undiagnosed PDD-NOS, and the unschooling/homeschooling adventures I had with him, and his sister.

The blog was aptly named Insane Parents Unite!

But now my kids are in middle-school. And you can't even buy parenting magazines geared towards kids that old. Not to mention that both my children refuse to be photographed, and what fun is a blog post about teenage angst, hunting for high schools, or the continual battle of limiting video gaming time when you can't even add a picture?!

Grumblegrumble.

So I changed the blog title to Indian-flavored Everything because I love all things Indian, was dating an Indian man, and I was running out of kid topics. (Which isn't really true, but whatever.) I still want to write about my favorite Bollywood movie, and the trip I'm dreaming up for Kerala with my new guy, but I also want to write about homesteading and reading and parenting older kids and cross-cultural dating. And hopefully in an artful-heartful way so that I may bring some joy to the soul along the way.

So now what do I call the blog?

***

And now for something not-so completely different ... I will be starting a BRAND NEW BLOG within the next month (in addition to this one). Something along the lines of Eco Expat. I've bought some land in Costa Rica at an Eco Village (off the grid, self-sustainable, intentional community) and I want to chronicle my experience of readying myself for life in a foreign country, earning income in a foreign country, learning a new language, practicing my homesteading skills -- plus all the logistical things I didn't anticipate happening but I'm sure will.

Stop by here for a link to the new blog.

Pura Vida!

Global Gatherings

Back when I home-schooled my children, I had to think up ways to facilitate the natural curiosity that children have – the kind that often gets swallowed up by video games and Nickelodeon. At least it did in my house. One way I did this was with Global Gatherings.

On the Homefront

So I'm really despising my youngest dog right now.

Notice anything about this line of raspberry plants? Like maybe the one in the middle is missing?

And this hole is an example of the three others that used to have three huckleberry plants and one blueberry plant. All those plants were also pulled up by the roots and shredded.

And this feels like the worst of it. This was my sweet little pear tree. As you can see, some animal (most likely Humphrey) pushed the chicken wire down, pushed over the tree, and ripped off all the branches and leaves.

Sigh. I don't know what to do about it. The front yard is for smaller plants and vegetables and flowers. The backyard was allotted for the fruit trees and bushes. Things that wouldn't fit in the front garden. I ache that six fruit bearing plants are gone (right on the cusp of the "landscape artist" that removed about eighty percent of my strawberry plants and all my raspberry canes! because they were invasive) and want to replace them right away. But that will be COSTLY!!! Not to mention that I don't know how to prevent Humphrey (or whatever did this) from striking again.

It's quite depressing actually. But I suppose even small suburban "farms" have losses, so I'll just pick up the pieces and start over on the fruit bearing plants. Again.

On a nicer note: we've acquired three new chickens. With the promise of them being good layers. Two chickens (the allotted amount allowed in the city limits) just wasn't enough to supply the eggs that our six person household uses.

Especially when Hazel starts brooding. Hens don't lay eggs when they are brooding. And she seems prone to it. I have to pull her out of the nesting box a couple times a day just to get her to eat. And when I reach for her she fluffs up huge. Trying to look bigger for predator me, I guess.

This is Sophia. One of the new ladies. She's a screecher. She goes kinda velociraptor in the mornings. I hope the neighbors won't be upset by these new additions.

I broke out the food dehydrator for the first time the other day. My friend Jenny gave this to me after she replaced it with a newer, snazzier model. It was a fun and yummy experience. We had a bowl full of too ripe fruit and I hated the idea of how much food I WAY TOO OFTEN throw away, so Robert and I chopped and sliced up two pears, three apples and three bananas. Yummy!

And Robert is feeling a little more artistic these days with his markers. I try to encourage art as much as possible for him because a) I love art and want my kids to express themselves in this way, too, and b) I sense that he finds it difficult to express his needs, desires and thoughts ... so maybe he could do it through his art. The kicker seems to be that he only wants to use these dry erasers and the wipe-it board. A lesson in impermanence for me! I like saving art work and have a bin in the garage with my favorites through the years. But he isn't creating anything permanent for me to keep. So, I thought I would start taking pictures of his art, thereby making it "permanent" for me. (He's also hating pictures taken of himself. He gets extremely pissed when I sneak in a picture of him.)

This rainbow is the most positive piece of art he's created in a year. He usually draws monsters, fight scenes, people being abducted or possessed by some otherworldly substance ... things like that.

I'm still waiting to hear back from Therapy Solutions for Kids about getting his O.T. started again.

And I have to say, that since Aubrey has been back to school (a private one Paul and I picked out for her: Eugene Waldorf School), she has been ecstatic both at home and at school, AND Robert and I have slipped back into our old snuggly, connecting routine. We read a lot together and play board games.

I'm also having him do some 'school work' in workbooks. He does about five easy math problems once a day during the week (too easy if you ask me -- I know he could do harder stuff and part of me wants to give him harder stuff to challenge him, but I also want him to feel successful and to not associate "school" or "homework" with this awful horrible terrible thing). And the one he hates the most is handwriting. I also have him do a front and back page in a writing workbook. This takes a super long time -- sometimes includes tears, wasting time and general outrage. Sometimes he insults me, too.

I think it is his challenges with fine motor skills that are preventing him from enjoying the experience. So I bought him a couple of ergonomic pens that are supposed to cause less hand strain. I wish there was a pencil alternative.

And I don't know if I'm supposed to be working on printing with him or cursive. Going into fourth grade next year means writing in cursive, but he barely knows how to print legibly.

Hmm.

Myriads of Topics

So, I've been cleaning. And this is my beautiful, slightly more organized garage.

Despite this, the mice are back. Eeew. Paul and I saw one last night while we were watching a movie, so we set some more traps. Bummer. It's been months since we've had any. I thought they were all gone. For good. But no.

I got two of the bastards in traps this morning. Then Humphrey (our six month old puppy) set off the other trap, so I had to move them under the sink where he couldn't sniff out the peanut butter. I'll put them back before I go to bed tonight.




This picture represents the accumulation of stuff that litters the bottom of my van at any given time. Paul cleaned out the van earlier this month and this was the result. (He's always giving me shit for how dirty my van is.)

But THIS, dear reader, is the stuff from HIS car. (heeheehee)




No more shit from Paul. Or if he does hand it to me, I can give it right back. (*insert cheesy smile*)




I'm already thinking garden. If I'm going to be planting sugar snap peas and spinach and broccoli in March, I best start thinking of ordering the seeds and preparing the ground next month. !!! It still feels like the dead of winter over here. It doesn't seem feasible to start working the ground in a few short weeks.

I'm still knitting scarves for (fill in the blank's) sake! I'm working on a yummy cream and mocha striped one right now, and learning about right side and wrong side of project.

We had a Manga/Knitting Homeschool Group here yesterday. Yes, the two don't seem to go together, but my daughter was wanting some manga buddies and I wanted some crafting/sewing/knitting time -- so we combined it. It worked fairly well actually. The kids drew some manga for about 45 minutes, then I tried teaching some Japanese language with the flashcards I'd picked up, but one of the kids already knew what I had prepared! All of it! Turns out he's been taking Japanese lessons through Human. His mom said it was better than Rosetta Stone and much cheaper ($25). I'll have to check it out for Aubrey.

Then the kids took turns playing You Tube videos of their favorite Japanese musicians and listened to some Japanese music. And we finished off the "club," as Aubrey calls it, with an episode of CardCaptor Sakura in Japanese with English subtitles.

The moms present knitted instead.

Success.

We'll be doing it next Friday, as well.




This is my very first scarf, knitted for myself, in August/September of 2009. It's super long and wide, the way I like scarves.



This one I finished for a friend at Christmas.



And this will be my next sewing project. Robert picked out this rockin' fabric for me to make him a cloak from.



Despite the kids really loving their new classes at HomeSource this term, Paul and I have talked it through and we've decided to put the kids back in school and end this lovely home/unschooling experiment. Sigh.


(kids in gymnastics class)

Strangely enough, (and I'm really so relieved) I am able to accept this change without feeling like a failure. And I don't feel like I am dumping them back into the hands of unfeeling, underpaid district employees. (Well, maybe a teeny bit.)

I started this homeschooling path because Robert wasn't getting his needs met in public school and the private school I attempted to put him in turned him down -- and everywhere else (lottery alternative schools) had waiting lists. So I stayed home with him and it was brilliant. His behavior changed, we got closer in our relationship, he became more relaxed. In fact, I had so much fun that I talked Aubrey and Paul into having Aubrey come home with us, too. And that was fun, too, for about six months. And then she got really bored.

We tried curriculum with her, but I didn't like doing it. And with Robert being unschooled, it didn't really work to do curriculum with her at the same time. Also, their ages and interests were just enough off that whatever Robert wanted to do, Aubrey didn't and whatever Aubrey wanted to do, Robert didn't. So someone was always being neglected during large chunks of the day. And that wasn't working.

Our cohesiveness started failing, the kids started hating each other and I've started falling back into, "What are we going to do today?" with my eyes wide like I'm trapped in front of an oncoming semi.

I've also needed considerable more "alone" time this past six months than I did all of last year. I've got personal challenges that I'm struggling with and a book that I'm trying to finish. So, it just feels like time to move the kids back into school outside of home. I'm both sad and excited.

Sad because an unschooling/homeschooling lifestyle still has beautiful, nurturing connotations that I want for our family. And there are so many "pros" for our family. Namely that the kids' interests are addressed more than they would at a more traditional school (even an alternative one.) For instance, between the two of them, the kids are taking Chess, Swimming, Ballet, Gymnastics and Drawing Anime. There is no way that they will get that in school, no matter which one I put them in. And if we go with a private school (which is a fairly probable possibility), we won't have the money after paying the school's tuition, for them to take more than maybe one of these "extra-curricular" activities.

And that's another thing. I hate that art and movement and dance and chess are extra. They should be the norm! They should be in every child's week (if they want them.) And I'm sad that Paul and I are effectively taking those opportunities away from our children. :(

The other really big plus for homeschooling Robert is his "extra" needs. If we opt for a private school, we may have to advocate harder for those needs, than we would if we did public school with an IEP for him. So we are not sold on which place would be best for him. We're still researching.

As it stands now, all of the lottery schools in our city have waiting lists and the lottery for next year is not until March. Not too far away, but IF they get chosen, then school wouldn't start for another nine months. But frankly I'm not holding my breath for that. I've had Aubrey in the Village School's lottery at least three times and on the waiting list once. She's never got in. I had Robert in the lottery for Ridgeline Montessori (as a sibling because Aubrey was already in Ridgeline at the time -- which meant he got priority over any slots available) and he still didn't get in. He was on the sibling waiting list. (As opposed to the regular waiting list.) Sigh.

There is a private school (Eugene Waldorf School) that has openings for both the kids right now. Barring Robert's application gets approved. So we wouldn't have much wait and could get them in this month probably.

Other options are: wait until the lottery and see if the kids get into any of the other alternative schools (tuition free) -- which is uber-nice because Paul's worried about his job stability just now. And then put them into Waldorf in March or April if the lottery schools don't work.

I have a tendency to want to hurry through to the next step when a decision is finally made.

So ... Paul and I have decided it's best for everyone involved (collectively anyway) that the kids go back to school. So, now I want to just make that happen and be on to the next part of the journey. But hurrying may be detrimental for Robert especially. When something new is offered to him, or when he's told "This is what's happening now," he digs his heels in and yells for all he's worth. :) Cheeky Monkey.

If I try to push him into a school setting when he's not ready, the first grade nightmare will happen all over again. And I don't want any more trauma for my baby.

We've got some diagnosis' in our back pocket if we want them (Sensory Processing Disorder, ADHD, and Oppositional Defiance Disorder) -- we laugh at that last one -- but more importantly we have some avenues to walk down to help him get re-integrated into a classroom. If we try to force him in next month before we start OT (Occupational Therapy) or continue HBot (if we decide to do that) or get him any counseling (which I'm skeptical of at his age), we risk it taking even longer for him to get into school without fighting at home or with the teachers and kids.

(Robert in the hyperbaric chamber -- HBOT.)



(I go in with him. The sessions last about an hour.)


(We do a lot of reading in there.)

I don't know. Robert's such an interesting little kid and he's so full of life. He really wants to make friends and maybe putting him into school would be excellent for him and he'll love it.

I feel like I need to help him with this transition though. How do I do that? Make home more like school? Talk about the things that would happen at school? Pump up the friends aspect? Take him to open houses and let him play on school playgrounds when school isn't in session?


Aubrey has SpiralScouts in a couple of hours (we're working on the Drumming Badge) and I want to soak in the tub with a book for a bit before that happens, so I'll close here. I hope this didn't fel too much like a rant. Just wanting to connect to whoever's listening ...

Camera Cord Found!

Hooray! Now I can finally share some things that are going on around here.




Aww. Sleeping dogs are the best dogs. Especially that rascally puppy. He's so much nicer when he sleeps.



This was a fabulous 3d tic tac toe game that Joey designed one day.




This was taken back in June at Aniela's graduation ceremony.



Here's a Banagrams game that Aubrey, Robert and Anna did. Only mythical beasts were allowed on the table.




Aubrey, Robert (Joey), Paul and his mom, Anna all waiting for Aniela's grad ceremony to start.



This is at Aubrey's eleventh birthday party.

Radical Unschooling Be Damned

I'm having a Jonah Day.

Actually more like a Jonah Ten Minutes.

It kinda started on Thursday. Paul has Thursdays off and I try (at his request) to keep those days empty so that we can spontaneously do things together as a family. But what often happens (and did on this Thursday past) is: everybody but me wants to camp on the computer. Paul was actually on the computer for seven hours straight before my stomping around the house and sighing persuaded him to get off. But he was back on again a few hours later.

The kids see this and emulate it. Duh. It's a no-brainer. Easy. Brain-dead.

It affects everybody in the house. No one connects. Paul tunes out, Aubrey grunts (in her oh so lovely goatish cow rendition: "Mah!"), Robert has been asking for hugs every time he sees me, is weepy, and says he feels lonely. He's mad and has been throwing things and yelling. Today he even cried. But I'm getting ahead of myself perhaps.

So Thursday was a computer day (by default), though I did manage to drag them to the park for a couple of hours in the afternoon. And Friday was a product of my new Summer Schedule.

I have Fridays alloted for detailed house cleaning in the morning and free choice in the afternoon. Well, the detailed cleaning was a bust because the kids had dentist appointments in the morning and then when free choice came around -- you can guess what they chose to do. (For the record, I chose to work on cleaning my room and watching Anne of Green Gables, with Meagan Follows, while going through boxes of papers and such that have cluttered my room for almost a year.) So another day of computer games.

And then Saturday mornings are always cartoons for the kids and a soak in the tub with a book for mama. Then we clean or do SpiralScouts or go on a field trip somewhere. So this morning, Saturday, I do a few chores (vacuum my room, change the chicks bedding and feed the dog) and check Facebook and my email. I made coffee and got in the tub a little late (11 a.m.). I noticed on my way that Aubrey, who doesn't get into the cartoons as much anymore, was playing on the computer. Sigh.

I informed the kids that all screens would be turned off at noon and they could take baths and we'd go on a bike ride to the library to pick up a book we had on hold. They seemed fine with this, until it was actually noon and I asked them to get off.

Aubrey went to take a bath but Robert started in on his stomping, yelling and throwing. You see, it was time for him to take his laundry upstairs and put it away. (Sometimes I yell when I have to do that, too.) :)

Anyway, the morning just seemed to get away from me and I checked in on why that might be. And my answer seemed to be the computer gaming. Three days in a row of gaming has created mutiny.

It's time to take some control back. I try to allow my kids the autonomy to make their own decisions about certain things and I want to have the patience and also the trust to know that they will follow their curiosities and lead themselves into a world of learning that excites them. If computer games actually do that for them, then I'm willing to take a back seat and allow them to learn through their games. But frankly, when their behavior changes and communication breaks down, I just can't take the back seat anymore. So much for radical unschooling. I guess I'm not the radical I thought I was.

But I still unschool. ;)

It's time for lunch to be made, and a little boy to fish out of the bathtub, and then we are going on our bike ride. Then, I promised my housemate I'd help him in the garden this afternoon. I'm going to plant my apple tree finally and we have pumpkin plants and other starts to get in the ground. I also want to plant some flower seeds and get some color in the garden! (Oh yeah, I should probably weed, too.)

Just so you know, I failed to take a picture of yesterday's harvest. I had it all laid out on the kitchen counter super pretty, and then promptly forgot to find the camera and we ate it. The harvest, not the camera.

There was a head of lettuce, some chard, a bunch of sugar snap peas (slurp!) and a big bowl full of strawberries. Sorry you missed it!

Conundrum

I've loved this word ever since I watched Natalie Portman and Zach Braff in "Garden State."

My conundrum is this:

I love taking classes. Strange, that. That an unschooling mama that wants her kids home and wants to have her kids learn within the bounds of their own curiosity (which is boundless!) and yet loves the going to school. Except that college isn't really school. (hee hee) I mean, it is ... but not like grammar or high school. There is so much more room for personalities to shine and courage to develop. You can question without looking like a dope, or the rest of the adults in the class glaring at you for ... well, whatever teenagers glared at me for.

Of course, this is only true of certain college classes. And I think that is determined by what kind of learner you are and where your interests lie. If you are in college for a degree program in writing, the algebra classes suck. But if you are just taking adult continuing ed classes because you want to practice your pottery skills or have your writing sharpened by a short story class, what joy!

So back to the conundrum. I was looking through a community college catalog this morning and discovered a summer class that looks right up my alley. Intro to Permaculture. Covers all the basics I want to learn about in nine weeks for only $83! (I've seen more intensive courses that I've been interested in for three or four hundred dollars.) I'd really like to go to this class, but it is on Monday nights -- right during my writer's critique group.

It is true that one of our members switched our Tuesday night group to the current Monday night group because of a class he wanted to take, and so I might get away with switching it again (at least for the nine weeks that the class lasts), but since then we've added a wonderful member that drives in from out of town and wouldn't be able to meet if we switched it to Tuesday again.

So.

I could just go to the class and ditch the group for nine weeks. I do have another theater group that I could write for on Thursday nights (but ... it's not the same).

I'd feel like I'd be, well ... ditching my comrades if I went to the class.

I thought about still writing and emailing or sending along my essays in other ways to the critique group so they'd have something to critique, but it is better for me to hear what they are saying about a piece, rather than just reading notes in the margins.

Bummer. I'll probably just stick with the critique group, but what an opportunity. An urban homesteading mentor! For $83! Just when I'm starting my own. I've got the garden and the chickens, just barely. It sure would be nice to have a hand to hold while starting out.

( ... and for $83 ... )

Accountability

I think I may have to take the Nablopomo challenge again, just so I am brought to the computer to post more often.

I wrote every day (mostly) in March. And I think I've posted four times this month and there's only two more days to the month!

Ug. I'm feeling like a failure.

It took Robert and I MONTHS to settle into an unschooling routine of sorts, and now Aubrey is home with us and we have yet to find our place. So that is on my mind.

I'm super into urban homesteading right now and voraciously read these blogs. My housemate and I are planning a trip to the feed and seed store to question the clerks about chickens. We are taking the kids because I want it to be a homeschooly thing. I want them to help pick out the breeds and such. And, of course, to hold the baby chicks.

My homesteader partner in crime, Steve, and I will tackle talking to Paul a.s.a.p. Steve also got a mason bee "home" to put up to encourage pollination. Our garden is waffling. The carrots and chamomile are coming up finally, and the kale in the back garden, but the pests are still chomping the spinach, kale and chard. Poor chard. It looks like a beauty college flunkee tried to re-invent one of those eighties hair styles with the spikey purple parts.

I am learning the knit stitch and am finding more and more homeschooling moms who are willing to share there expertise with me. Hooray!

Yesterday we did Lego Club which was a big hit with Robert (not so much with Aubrey) and today we went to roller skating class and Papa's Pizza to meet friends and play. Tomorrow is park day (more playing!) and also picking up the eggs from our friends' home. (And No Shame night for Paul and I.) Friday is house cleaning and Bounce night for the kids.

Saturday is packed with a Reptile Walk on Mt. Pisgah and then our 2nd annual Firehawks hearth Spiralscouts Vegan Earth Dinner. Sunday is more cleaning (my office has started bleeding recycled paper all over the floor again) and then a playdate of Aubrey's at a new friend's home. The mom raises angora rabbits and sheers the fiber, spins it and sells it -- which I ALL over. I can't wait to see.

Then Monday is the chick day -- we're just checking them out and asking questions, maybe buying some equipment, not taking home any yet -- and the week starts all over again with classes and park days.

So that is what we do all week, in a nutshell. In case you were wondering.

Last field trip

We went to Greenhill Humane Society for a tour and then ended in the cattery for a while.

(I don't know why this is underlining. Sorry for my techno-disability.)

Aubrey found a cat that really liked her and I was tempted for a minute or two to bring it home ... but it had the unfortunate name of "Bubbles."

But they sure looked good together.

And Joey found a kitty that would play with his toy.

The kids enjoyed it. I'm glad we went.

Personality Types: Estp's, Infp's, and Enfj's ... O MY!

I just finished reading a book about different personality types (based on the Meyers-Briggs tests) and how to nurture our kids while taking those personality types into account. For instance, Aubrey is (based on my feeble attempts at 'labeling' her) a "INFP -- introverted, intuitive, feeling, perceiving".

Therefore, she needs an enormous amount of "constant love, reassurance and protection from a busy high-pressured and sometimes unfeeling world." She can "tend to become moody, pessimistic and negative when she feels unloved or unwanted." She values close relationships and has a great need to have harmony around her.

I'm instructed to "heap on a steady measure of reassurance, love, supportive looks, touches and encouraging comments." Her self-esteem comes from feeling understood and accepted.

A side-bar in the book tells me what "works" for INFP's.

*provide lots of books; read to them constantly.

*go to the library regularly and have own library card.

*expose her to cultural arts.

*speak softly, use gentle voice and maintain physical and eye contact when you correct a misbehavior.

*apologize quickly and sincerely if you lose your temper or raise your voice to her.

*encourage her to talk about her ideas; listen quietly and give her your undivided attention.

*respect the legitimacy of imaginary life

*encourage her to express feelings in words or in drawings. listen and carefully rephrase their feelings to help them clarify them.

*allow her to watch from the sidelines as long as she needs before joining in and give her plenty of time to play alone or simply daydream.

*respect the intensity of her feelings

*support intellectual curiosity and artistic expression.

*help her find ways to keep herself organized and on time; model how to set and meet goals.

*appeal to her feelings and values in times of conflict or disagreement.

*get her ideas and input on alternative ways to solve problems; give her plenty of advance notice about changes that affect her personally.

*help her make decisions by explaining that few choices are irrevocable.

Most of the information was stuff I already felt in my gut, but now had validation or permission to acknowledge. I have always instinctually treated Aubrey with more tenderness and have always been concerned about her sensitivity in many areas of her life. From not hurrying her too much, and acknowledging the absolute fairyness in her play, to asking Paul to not tease her because she took it too personally.

I have wondered if I perpetuated her sensitivity and tender feelings by treating her so gently and looking out for her like that -- Paul certainly believed it -- but now I feel :) vindicated, of a sort. I was right all along.

Joey-Boy is an ESTP (extraverted, sensing, thinking perceiving).

He needs: "plenty of hands-on experiences, crystal clear directions and expectations and more physical freedom than just about any other type." He "rarely take anything seriously, so rules, limits and boundaries just don't affect him." He "likes being naked and dislikes restrictive feelings of some clothing" (like coats and underwear -- my italics). He's drawn to water, dirt, mud and the beach. (yes, this is all Joey. The book has him spot-on.)

I need to: "supply him with enough activities, friends and excitement to keep him from becoming bored, cranky and mischievous." Apparently, "empathy, tact and sensitivity are learned skills for ESTP's." (Lovely.) "Parents need to explain, clearly and unemotionally, the logic of why they (or anyone else) feels the way they do in response to his actions."

They suggest making a game out of chores, to give them plenty of opportunities to solve their own problems, and to try to minimize the number of unnecessary limits. And also to "state values clearly and simply and not over-charge the topic with unnecessary emotion." It works better they tell me.

ESTP's self-esteem comes from trying new things and mastering them on their own. "Helping [Joey] find constructive and useful outlets for his great energy, open-mindedness and zest for living helps him to feel good about the person he is." It may also prove helpful when Joey is an adolescent, to remind him that "there are many different kinds of intelligence and many kinds of achievement."

The side-bar for ESTP's looks like this:

*find unending and constructive outlets for their high physical energy; playgrounds, play with him, wear him out! (this sounds exhausting to me)

*childproof your house!

*show patience with the repeated questions and stream of consciousness speaking; take breaks as needed, but don't give them the wrong impression that they are pests for noticing the world the way they do.

*set crystal clear boundaries and show them what you mean, rather than telling.

*Be consistent in enforcing rules, say what you mean and mean what you say.

*swift action and immediate, logical consequences are more effective than words.

*Be realistic about order, neatness and wisdom of breakables, while child is young at least.

*Rephrase the thoughtless comments they make; repeat back to them a revised and more tactful version.

*model patience, sharing and negotiating skills.

*make chores a game; put on music and clean things up as you dance.

*use fun as an incentive; reward initiative or dependability with trips to the .... (I personally disapprove of this strategy.)

*explain why you or someone else feels as they do; explain the emotional and personal consequences of their behavior.

*use reality based, hands on learning.

So my confession here is that I was exhausted, discouraged and even slightly belligerent while reading about the ESTP's. As a different personality type than my son (I lean toward enfj status), my motivations are ones of love, friendship and understanding. I'm empathic and intuitive and to know that "empathy, tact and sensitivity [will be] learned skills" for him makes me cringe. It sounds borderline sociopathic. In a quirky, fun-loving way, of course.

Most of what I read, again, was stuff I already knew and cater to. I've started up the weekly trips to the park, he goes weekly to a gymnastics open gym where he can run and bounce galore, I try to get in a couple of field trips a month for him, and I home-school him so the "sit in your seat and don't make noise" is at a minimum. Well, gone actually, because we are more of an un-schooling household, as opposed to one with a curriculum based home-schooling approach.

But coming from a person that would much rather sit and read, or write on my novel, or work my arts and crafts ... or travel to exotic lands and learn about alternative lifestyles and cultures (ok, so that one might not fit ... though, truthfully, I don't think Joey would be interested in that either), playing tag in the park doesn't do it for me. His level of need for physically energy-depleting activities creates in me the desire to breathe slow. In a cave of feather blankets. And hibernate.

Pulling at loose threads

Joey wants me to lay in bed with him until he falls asleep. I'd love to and am not adverse to the family bed (in fact Aubrey slept with Paul and I last night because she was lonely) -- except I don't want to go to sleep when they do. Or rather, I don't want them to stay up with me. After they are down for the night, I have a chance to talk to Paul; or watch a rated 'R' movie; or soak in a hot bath; or write.

Today the results of the enrollment lottery happened for Ridgeline Montessori school. Currently there are no opening in the 3rd grade class for September. Names were drawn and Robert's name came up #2. So if a spot shows up, like someone moves, and the #1 kid doesn't want the slot, it could/would be offered to Robert.

I'm almost relieved. I really want to unschool both my kids and now that RobertJoey will be home with me again, (unless he's offered a spot within the next few months) Aubrey will be given the option to stay home with us again.

On some days she seems to enjoy going to Ridgeline and likes to interact with the kids. But there are so many things that she would benefit from if she stayed home. The biggest detriment to staying home, is if it didn't work out -- she wouldn't be able to go back to Ridgeline. And Meadowlark really isn't an option in my book. She'd have to go back on a waiting list and go through the lottery process the following year and quite possibly not get in. (Just like Robert.)

So it would be a big decision to stay home.

Any suggestions or words of wisdom?

Making decisions really freaks Aubrey out. She agonizes over them, over making the wrong decision. And she almost always regrets whatever decision she does make. :( It's a little disheartening to me.

Ultimately, I believe that having her home with me will allow me to encourage her spirit so much more. To reassure her that she's fantastic and will always have my unconditional love, no matter what. And for us to stay connected when the going gets tough in the next few years.

My thoughts quagmire. I am restless.

Craziness. Ain't it cool?

(I'm embarrassed to say that while editing some photos of my family and myself, I forgot to "duplicate" before cropping. Whups. Now, I'm horrified that a large quantity of our family photos are only of me.) 8( [For instance, the one above is of me, Aniela and Paul in New York on the subway!)

This day is getting away from me. It's 3:45pm and I've been taking pictures as a sort of photo essay to use tomorrow on a day of life of us un-schooling.

I just picked up my daughter and her friends (The Carpool) from the public charter Montessori school they go to. It took about a half an hour to do (at the school and then driving time added onto that) because the school was doing a Parent Directed Response Pick-Up Drill. We had to park our vehicles, stand in line, show ID and sign out our kids who were then brought to us down the hall.

Then I took our little friends to their Tae Kwon Do class (which they both didn't want to do but Mom had said 'yes') before coming home. The boy practically looked in tears, he was so tired from his day. I felt so thankful for the opportunity to be flexible in my kids' schedules. And disappointed that not everyone can.

I'm trying to coordinate a knitting group/playdate for myself and my son during the day with the home(un)schoolers I know in my area. There was some flurry of interest on the boards (about six in all, which is nice) but it seems to be leaning towards a girls craft group now.

This is not what I had in mind, though my daughter loves the idea. I'm keen to get her involved, but what about my son. I dislike the segregation of genders.

And what about my knitting? :)

It was my intention to write something more interesting (about my recent blog research on gardening, living frugally and such -- I found some cool new blogs to add to my blog roll list) but I still have quite a bit planned for the rest of the afternoon and evening and I didn't want the day to get away without a post.

I still need to order Spiralscouts badges for our awards ceremonial coming up next month, print out at least one chapter of the novel I'm working on and edit it for my critique group tonight, make dinner, encourage my daughter who is struggling with a re-write she needs to do for her class, visit with Anna - who is over right now playing with Robert, eat dinner and get to group on time (have to wait for Paul to get home from work first).

Craziness. :) Ain't it cool?

Saturday: Spiral Scouts and Iran

Our hearth, the Firehawks, went on a tour of a local restaurant yesterday for part of our cooking badge requirements. We first went through and learned how the servers worked their tables (how they worked in sections and how the orders went through the computer to the back kitchen, etc) and how to set a table and the scouts set their own place setting and folded napkins in a little swan boaty looking thing.

Then we went in the back kitchen and talked with the executive dinner chef and she explained how dinner worked and fun trivia like: how many pans they went through in the dinner hour(s) and had the scouts practice "sauteing" raw beans in their skillet.

They saw how the sanitizing dishwasher works.

"And this, kids, is the dishwashing area. This is one of the hardest jobs in the whole place," said Chris, our tour guide.

"The hardest?" Josh, my co-leader, said. "Then that means it must pay the most."

The dishwasher laughed.

***

In the evening, our family sans Paul, still at work, went to Robin's house to hear her brother in law talk about his native country Iran. It was a great potluck of Persian dishes and the presentation was very well done.

I feel relieved and happy and blessed that Robert found a friend to play with there and a playdate is in the making as we speak! I hope it sticks. Finn's parents seem real cool, too. (It's so nice when your kid makes friends with kids with parents you actually want to hang out with.)

I brought the stew in the pot. It was gone at the end of the night, so I guess it was a big hit.

All in all, a very nice day. :)

Christmas Party Hugs and Violence

I panic when I think of having to entertain people. I am not witty. I breathe too fast at those hideous parties where you must mingle with people you don’t know. Or in the case of my husband’s company’s annual Christmas party – I only see these minglers once a year. Which is even worse, because now I must not only smile with big teeth and pretend I care where she bought her dress, but I also need to remember his name and who he's married to and if he works under my husband or at a different department.

And Paul’s boss is there. He’s so jovial it’s painful. One year I called Paul at work for some now unremembered incidental and later complained to him about the receptionist that answered.

“What’s wrong with her?” he asked me.

“She’s like a cheerleader on speed. Hello! It’s a GREAT day at Company Name I Won’t Divulge! Where can I direct your call?! You could positively hear her head tilting.”

Paul laughed, “That’s because my boss is a cheerleader on speed. He told her to say all that.”

So when I see Paul’s boss at the Christmas party I silently and simultaneously laugh and cringe to myself when he offers his hug. He’s a good man – don’t get me wrong – he’s well loved by his employees and has excellent taste in who he hires … but he’s so … hyper.

He reminds me a little of my son.

Robert’s so much better in his hyperactivity this year. And the unschooling is really helping our relationship. I’m a strong advocate for his, and all children’s, downtime. I think unscheduled free time is where creativity is birthed and in the abyss before your mind and soul create this previously unknown thing of beauty … you play Xbox 360. Or at least my son does.

Yesterday he played four hours on a new video game we rented, and another four today. I hesitate greatly at this, waffling and wobbling all over like those Weeble Wobble toys from the Seventies. Is he damaging brain cells and forever cutting off neuro-pathways that could have allowed him to memorize sonnets or play the cello? Will he ever learn a second language now? Will he become like the sociopathic killer with the air pressure canister in “No Country For Old Men” because he likes to play World of Warcraft with the sound of crunching bodies being destroyed with Fantasy Violence.

And this I don’t understand. Why is Violence rated T for Teen on these games, or even M for Mature – the equivalent to a rated R movie – but Fantasy Violence is only E or E10? Is it not supposed to be as threatening to your psyche or your child’s sensitive emotional well-being if the spear is being thrown by a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle or a Death Knight? Because, you know, it’s just a cartoon really.

Unschooling gives me and my son time to explore what’s important to us. I see more and more of this interesting little person every day and I feel charmed. I’m so happy he chose me as a parent; I’m so happy we can learn with each other every day.

Today, we had a rough afternoon at the grocery store – a part I will honestly take a greater fault in than him. In retrospect, it probably wasn’t the bickering with his sister over cookies that drove me to leave the store and our cart full of food in the middle of the aisle, it was most likely the damn LOST dvds we were given for our seventh anniversary gift a couple of weeks ago. Eight episodes in two nights doesn’t lend to early bedtimes or extra patience with your children.

So, in the van on the way home from the grocery store sans groceries, I address Robert:

“Close your eyes, take a deep breath and tell me what your body needs right now. What would feel good to you right now?”

My little old soul of a boy closed his eyes, inhaled and exhaled from his intestines.

“I need some alone time in your bed watching a movie. By myself.”

I rejoiced, without letting him see my smile in the rear view mirror. Robert has NEVER asked for alone time in his life. I think we may be turning a … oh no, I mustn’t say “leaf”. That’s too cliché. And Robert doesn’t like leaves nearly as much as sharks, snakes or bugs. How about we are turning over a awesomely cool rock to find equally awesomely cool bugs and worms wriggling about. How very interesting.

He could never have learned to breathe deeply nor receive the time to check inside and feel what his needs were at a traditional school. Not that I am taking all the credit here. I could never have learned to take that time with my son and to rejoice in his simple, yet astonishing all the same, accomplishments if I was not able to stay home with him. And in that I am blessed.

I swim in gratitude, and let the rightness of it squish up between my toes, knowing that Paul’s income allows me to stay home with our son. And for that, I’ll hug Paul’s boss any day.

Un-schooling and Not.

I dislike posting without a game plan. (Or even having written it ahead of time and just typing it here after I've edited and spell checked.) But here I am, stealing moments before my son gets up to write.

Otherwise, I fear, it will never happen. And then a month goes by without a post, and any readers I do have will stop coming back and .... well, you get the picture.

So, here I am.

I was lamenting to my husband -- though I fear (there's that would again) that he just rolls his eyes when I talk about stuff like this -- this morning about not having enough time with Aubrey.

She's getting up later and later in the morning so that I don't see here at all -- she's showering and dressing while I'm making her a to-go breakfast, packing her lunch and getting her coat and shoes by the door. Then she's gone all day while I'm home with Robert, living! , and when she gets home, she either: plays with Robert because they haven't seen each other all day, or she's so fried from the day that she just relaxes with a book or checks her emails. Which I totally respect and want to give her room to do.

This frequently means that when I put her to bed at night (when I do ... I'm gone to writer's meetings at least two times a week, more if I'm doing something else like date night), she wants to talk and connect, BUT ... I'm fried. I don't do evenings well. It's my time to relax and read, take a bath or watch a movie with popcorn. And so I rush it and try to get out of talking at the end of our bedtime ritual (which is fairly long as it is.)

All this means is that I miss her. I really want her home with me. I know that she will drift away the further into adolesence she gets, but I can't help but feel she won't if she's at home with me. We'll stay connected, at least.

When Aniela was, geez, twelve? to sixteen, she hated us all and went out of her way to show it. So much so that even though she hasn't lived with us for over a year and I miss her, and I admire where she's gone with her life, Paul still thinks I'm afraid of her. And we still don't have a good relationship with her; we still don't know each other; we still don't really talk to one another.

I don't want that to happen to me and Aubrey. Or Paul and Aubrey. That would be too much to bear for him. And me.

I already see the signs of adolescence approaching and so I feel spurred into action. I want her home with me during the day. I know that she wouldn't struggle so much with the unimportant (to the real world) stuff like: being singled out with assigned seating, feeling unworthy for getting circles for her incomplete work, or feeling different from the other kids.

I want her home with me.

But Paul doesn't. He doesn't even think Robert should be home, truthfully. At least that is how I read him. I feel in my bones that un-schooling, sometimes called student-lead or natural learning, is the right course of living for us. And Paul is afraid of this.

I keep trying to get him to read and research some of the things I'm finding about unschooling and he procrastinates and doesn't do it and still feels uncomfortable with what Robert and I do all day.

To me this is just irritating. To the point that some days I just feel done with talking about it. If he's uncomfortable with it, he can research it. I'm comfortable with it, I think it's the right course of action, I want it to be this way, and I'm the one with the time to do it.

I really would like the trust from him to do this. His blessing. (He says he supports me in my decision, but doesn't like it. That's not a blessing. Is it?)

I talked to an unschooling acquaintance of mine last month about this, and I loved her response. She said that sometimes her and her husband come up against this, too, but she reminds him that she doesn't advise him about selling or buying their stocks. It would be foolish. She doesn't know enough to. She can express concern over certain attributes ... the cost, or a particular company she doesn't like and doesn't want to support ... but she doesn't say, "Buy now."

Same with the "schooling;" he doesn't tell her not to do it (though he can express concern about certain things and they can talk about it -- just like the stock decisions) because she's the one that does all the research. She's the one that lives it every day. She's the one that dives into the living and learning of her children every day.

So, I guess it is time to have another talk with Paul about all this.

I don't want him to feel nagged, or that his opinion doesn't matter (which is what he told me), I just want my opinion to count, too.

And now my son is awake.

Breathe.

Spring is Here, Blue-Tongued Skink Boy and Shaving Cream Fun

I just noticed the xmas lights still wrapped around the upper branch. (Um. I think that was there from Christmas 2007.) HeeHee.

... in honor of one of his favorite types of lizards.

This is a "shaving cream blizzard."

Quote for the Day

"I better hurry and pick up the paste!" ~Robert, age 7

He told me I missed some of his sculptures, so I was obliged to take another photo.