I posted at length on this topic last year, I know - but it's still such a tricky balance. Dave and I both agreed recently, some time around my last cheerful post, that it was time to rein everyone in again and put more structure back into the kids' day. I had been going for the "lazy, hazy days of summer" feel around here, but apparently that just makes everyone crazy. :-) At any rate, Sunday night I refreshed the magnet boards that list their daily chores and responsibilities (they move the magnets from one side to the other when the chores have been completed, I made some sticker charts, and I made a schedule for the next day. Aimee, having been informed earlier of my intent, woke up happily on Monday morning, dressed quickly, cleaned her room, and was altogether a different student during schoolwork. I had explained to her that she was allowed to have her own likes and dislikes, of course, and she could express them in a respectful manner at appropriate times, but that we were also going to work at doing our school without complaining and fighting. I made the sticker charts to help keep her accountable in this area, and she responded beautifully. It's clear - again - that she thrives and shines in an environment where she knows just what to expect at any given time. It's funny how it seems she only needs to have what's expected of her written down somewhere. Drew, too, did better yesterday, although he still struggled with rather violent emotions. I did a couple things with him, and it was interesting to note that he finds the math, in particular, so easy that he acts bored with it, yet verbally expresses continued frustration that school is just too hard for him. I didn't do any handwriting with him, because, in answer to Hannah's query, it's really not all that important to me that he do it right now. Actually, he writes very well - just as he reads above average and has well above average math skills. I guess I had hoped that he wouldn't even notice his slightly increased workload as we tapped into his haphazard brilliance. But it IS true that he's sensitive to the emotions around him, so he may be different creature altogether if we can lessen the tension in the air. And speaking of air, the weather has been so humid, and while Drew's asthma hasn't given him any probems in quite some time, in times when he's unusually moody and hard to handle, I wonder if perhaps the oppressive weather is affecting him particularly aversely - maybe he just feels crummy!
But back to flexible structure - we began this morning according to schedule, and then during breakfast the kids trailed out and began playing together. When at 9, I was nearly going to call out that it was time for chores, I caught myself as I watched all four children trot around the living room in a line, whinnying like horses. How could I interrupt something like that?! That's one of the indisputable, priceless benefits of homeschooling, I think, although it poses the challenge of constantly being wise enough to strike just the right balance. I wonder if I'll ever master it completely - I doubt it, but in the meantime, I suppose the process of figuring it out is one way we're all growing and learning together.
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Sunday, July 27, 2008
Disorder, Anxiety, and Re-Connecting with Grace
Wow- what a week. It's been some time since we've travelled so much, and settling back down after all our recent trips and dramas has been interesting. The house, for one thing, exploded, and I confess I don't deal well with disorder. I try to make an effort to focus on "people before things" in times like those, but the clutter and the sticky floors (STOP wandering into the living room while eating popsicles, kids!) are very distracting, and it was no less true this week. Dave has also been working on the last few details of some financial deals that are probably good things for us - at least I desperately hope so - but the stress of that kind of thing hanging over my head is very stressful, and it all washed over me suddenly upong returning home, as I hadn't thought about any of it while we were at my mom's. And speaking of Dave working, in the past two weeks, he has worked between 70-80 hours each week - a blessing on payday later, but a huge strain on everyone in the meantime, especially given the major disruptions on our usual routine.
One would think, therefore, that it might be a good idea to let schoolwork rest for a few more days, but we had started just after Aimee returned from camp, and I didn't want to take a long break again after having only a few days under our belt, so I asked them to do a couple of things here and there this week. Naturally, you might have thought I was asking them to go the moon, and that added another layer of stress. I kept thinking maybe I should pull back altogether and go with the typical school schedule, but I wondered if it would just be harder for them to get back into things after an even longer break - I think it would. As it is now, we have a basic load - just some math, history, handwriting, grammar, and, for Aimee, spelling (although she's a terrific speller already and could probably skip the book, but I'm not about to tell her that yet!). We've been reading together all along, of course, Aimee still devours books, and Drew, despite his lack of confidence in himself in this area, reads with an ease he doesn't even recognize - so that already fits easily and naturally into our day. I've been trying to let them dabble in the their new books, easing into things at a non-threatening pace, but so far it's been a disaster. Aimee has been extremely resistant to almost everything ("Grammar is a worthless subject!"), and Drew's anxiety levels about it have been through the roof. Last year he was breezing through his math and answering off-handedly any and almost all questions from Aimee's math, so I thought he would love getting back into that at least, but as soon as I pull out, for instance, a fact sheet (with problems he did last year and still knows effortlessly), he melts into a crying heap on the floor. For him, it's not so much that he doesn't want to do it; rather that he protests he can't - "First grade is too haaaaaaarrrddd! I can't do it! I don't like first grade!" He's so distressed about that it's really distressing for me, especially with something like his handwriting pages. I thought I had made a purposeful effort to stress practice and a good effort over perfection with their schoolwork, but every time he begins writing, he dissolves into more tears, wailing that it's not perfect and he'll never be able to write. On Thursday, after a couple of these moments and many of Aimee's "Why do I have to do this?" moments, I had a mother-of-the-year meltdown myself. " It's not supposed to be miserable in the first five days of a new school year! I can't take 175 more days of this!" - at which Aimee picked up her spelling and begin to work in it. When, slightly calmer, I assured her that she could just take a break, she replied timidly, "I don't want you to get a ticket, Mommy," (Ever since she saw me mail off our association dues and learned that it was the legal thing to do, she's been concerned about it). Ever get that sinking feeling in your stomach, when all you wish you could do is take that moment back and erase the deer-in-the-headlights look off your children's faces? Please, dear readers, tell me I'm not the only one who knows that feeling!
But really, it truly isn't supposed to be miserable in the first few days of first- and third-grade homeschooling. I know things have been crazy, and school could get less so as soon as everything else does, but WILL everything else become less crazy? I don't want to let my children get in the habit of feeling overwhelming anxiety, and of hating what's supposed an enjoyable time of learning together. Yesteday we all went to the store and bought a cart full of school supplies, hopefully inspiring a better feeling of fun and excitement. I'm also going to buckle down and return to our own morning lists, which obviously provide comforting structure for everyone. And we're going to pray, pray, and pray some more, that the outside stressors will lessen considerably, and that until they do, we'll all be able to cope with grace.
One would think, therefore, that it might be a good idea to let schoolwork rest for a few more days, but we had started just after Aimee returned from camp, and I didn't want to take a long break again after having only a few days under our belt, so I asked them to do a couple of things here and there this week. Naturally, you might have thought I was asking them to go the moon, and that added another layer of stress. I kept thinking maybe I should pull back altogether and go with the typical school schedule, but I wondered if it would just be harder for them to get back into things after an even longer break - I think it would. As it is now, we have a basic load - just some math, history, handwriting, grammar, and, for Aimee, spelling (although she's a terrific speller already and could probably skip the book, but I'm not about to tell her that yet!). We've been reading together all along, of course, Aimee still devours books, and Drew, despite his lack of confidence in himself in this area, reads with an ease he doesn't even recognize - so that already fits easily and naturally into our day. I've been trying to let them dabble in the their new books, easing into things at a non-threatening pace, but so far it's been a disaster. Aimee has been extremely resistant to almost everything ("Grammar is a worthless subject!"), and Drew's anxiety levels about it have been through the roof. Last year he was breezing through his math and answering off-handedly any and almost all questions from Aimee's math, so I thought he would love getting back into that at least, but as soon as I pull out, for instance, a fact sheet (with problems he did last year and still knows effortlessly), he melts into a crying heap on the floor. For him, it's not so much that he doesn't want to do it; rather that he protests he can't - "First grade is too haaaaaaarrrddd! I can't do it! I don't like first grade!" He's so distressed about that it's really distressing for me, especially with something like his handwriting pages. I thought I had made a purposeful effort to stress practice and a good effort over perfection with their schoolwork, but every time he begins writing, he dissolves into more tears, wailing that it's not perfect and he'll never be able to write. On Thursday, after a couple of these moments and many of Aimee's "Why do I have to do this?" moments, I had a mother-of-the-year meltdown myself. " It's not supposed to be miserable in the first five days of a new school year! I can't take 175 more days of this!" - at which Aimee picked up her spelling and begin to work in it. When, slightly calmer, I assured her that she could just take a break, she replied timidly, "I don't want you to get a ticket, Mommy," (Ever since she saw me mail off our association dues and learned that it was the legal thing to do, she's been concerned about it). Ever get that sinking feeling in your stomach, when all you wish you could do is take that moment back and erase the deer-in-the-headlights look off your children's faces? Please, dear readers, tell me I'm not the only one who knows that feeling!
But really, it truly isn't supposed to be miserable in the first few days of first- and third-grade homeschooling. I know things have been crazy, and school could get less so as soon as everything else does, but WILL everything else become less crazy? I don't want to let my children get in the habit of feeling overwhelming anxiety, and of hating what's supposed an enjoyable time of learning together. Yesteday we all went to the store and bought a cart full of school supplies, hopefully inspiring a better feeling of fun and excitement. I'm also going to buckle down and return to our own morning lists, which obviously provide comforting structure for everyone. And we're going to pray, pray, and pray some more, that the outside stressors will lessen considerably, and that until they do, we'll all be able to cope with grace.
Monday, July 21, 2008
A Long Story Grows Even Longer...
...OR, "A Tale From the Tragically Bizarre."
My family didn't used to have such a flair for drama, but we certainly have developed it in recent years, leading up to this past weekend's fiasco. Dave had to work in North Carolina all day Friday and again on Saturday morning, and since he needed a hotel room anyway, he secured one in Rock Hill so that we could all come up early for my parents' vow renewal on Sunday. He worked late Friday night, so the kids and I spent the evening with my mom and my sister Erica who had just recently returned from a six-week stint in Cambodia. My dad was also working, but arrived home just before I was ready to take the kids over to the hotel. It was strange to see him back at the apartment, but in a good way - I hoped silently that this renewal of committment would indeed be genuine and enduring.
Saturday morning took Dave to work, and the kids and I relaxed at the hotel until they grew restless, and then I took them to a nearby park until lunchtime. We then drove back over to my mom's, where we found that my aunt and uncle, along with my grandmother, had just arrived from Tennessee. We enjoyed visiting with them, although I noted silently that my dad seemed a little less than enthused about everything, and Erica said the same thing out loud to me later. We hoped he was just tired. But not too long after lunch, my mom took a long phone call from another sister, who was apparently disgruntled about something, then my dad went outside to make a long call to the same person. He came back in, then he and my mom went out to talk.
"We'll be right back," my mom said, with forced cheerfulness as they walked out the door.
"Well, we'll be back," my dad amended, with his own wan smile.
I didn't say anything, but felt like throwing something at the door they closed behind them. I hoped they were really just "discussing" whatever problem it was my sister was having with the upcoming event - a strange wish, given some of the interesting episodes on this score we've seen at major family events years past. (So I guess we've always had a little dramatic flair, at least in one corner of the family - but that's all I'll say about that.) But just about anything would be better than the kind of outdoor discussions my parents have had in the past year and a half. I took a deep breath, anyway, and put tried to put it on a shelf in the back of my mind while Erica and I took the kids to the pool.
Dave arrived a little while later, and we went almost straight from the pool to the car, heading for his parents' house in York. I was concerned about what was going on back at my mom's, so I was probably a bit of a downer at the Meester's gathering - which, by the way, had elements of the strange and disconcerting as well. My sister-in-law, just a few months fresh off her own separation, brought a "friend," really a nice guy, I must admit, and I'm not trying to be judgemental, but she certainly seems to be dealing with things in a pretty cool and calculating manner, especially given the fact that she has twin daughters who are at a rather delicate, pre-adolescent age. The rest of the family seems a little concerned on this point as well, but my mother-in-law commented that as far as the girls were concerned, they only knew the new man in their mom's life to be just a friend. I don't think the girls are stupid - I believe they probably know better, and I wonder if they are really taking their father's complete departure and all the subsequent and upcoming changes as casually as everyone would like to think. BUT... it's not my life, and they are not my children, and I do not wish to presume and speculate - too much, anyway! - about someone else's life. Things are interesting enough in my own corner of the world, and indeed, things were brewing back on the Rock Hill end.
On leaving Dave's family, we were planning to go visit at my mom's again, but they were just leaving for a late dinner, and even though my dad was at work, the air seemed charged with something. Erica had called me earlier to say that she understood the trouble to be involving just a problem our sister was having, and that everything was still good for Sunday, but I wasn't quite sure. We joined everyone at dinner for a little while, and everyone was smiling, but my mom seemed pensive. As we left, I sent Erica a text asking her, since she was staying in the apartment, to keep my informed of anything she discovered. I didn't hear anything that night, and when I woke on Sunday morning, I lay in bed thinking of how to secure our last-minute gift for the party. My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of text messages arriving on my phone - it was Erica, describing how my dad was packing up all of his things. How very, very ghastly. My mom, she said, was gone, and as my dad was gathering the last of things, he had come into see Erica, explaining briefly that "it just wasn't the right time." The rest of my crew woke up shortly after, and I showed Dave what Erica had sent, but we didn't say anything to the kids just yet. We went to breakfast, deflecting comments from excited children about the party, and after we got back to our room, my aunt called to fill in the details - as many as she knew, at any rate. Of course, it was a familiar and ugly story, not surprising but made more horrible because of the wretched timing. She said, anyway, that my mom had gone to see some good friends for some comfort and counsel, and that she would be back that afternoon and hoped everyone would still come to the apartment. If it were me, I would want to be mostly alone, but my mom is quite the opposite and actually finds comfort in people, so we reluctantly agreed to go back over after checking out.We told the children that the party was cancelled, and we fielded questions about when there would be another celebration. We tried to answer delicately, and not squash child-like faith with our grown-up knowledge and cynicsim, but it was hard. Frankly neither Dave nor I could imagine how my parents could even think of attempting another reconciliation after this. When we got to the apartment, at any rate, only my grandmother and my sister were there, and Erica was getting ready to go to a movie with my other sister, Mary K., and her husband. When they left, the apartment was quiet and the air rather oppressive as we just sat and waited for who knew what. I decided to call my dad, and as soon as that long and difficult conversation was out of the way, we went to lunch, my grandmother opting to stay and get some rest. Upon returning, my aunt and uncle had arrived, and my mom appeared shortly thereafter. We went down to the pool, and the kids enjoyed themselves, but my mom, naturally, was very weary, and the mood among the rest of the adults was not terribly heavy, but resigned at the very least. My mom had asked the friends she had seen earlier to come later in the afternoon to oversee a family pow-pow, and shortly after we returned from the pool, they arrived. We were, at the time, cutting into the small wedding cake my mom had purchased for the event - but to redeem it somewhat, we put candles in it and sang Happy Birthday to the people in the family who had to closest birthdays. :-) As we were eating the cake, however, there was a knock on the door. I opened it - to the rest of the invited guests for the cancelled ceremony. My sisters and I nearly sank into the floor as we realized they hadn't been informed of the disasterous changes. They came in, unintenionally jarring the close family atmosphere we were nuturing in the apartment, and for a time some of us felt very awkward. But my mom and Erica rose to the occasion, as usual, and Erica merely showed everyone her pictures from Cambodia, while my mom made the rounds and explained what had happened. The guests, three very kind couples who have been devoted friends of the family for years, stayed for an uncomfortably long time, until they finally decided to redeem their own evening with some dinner elsewhere. Of course we had been glad to see them - in a way - but I think we were all glad to see them go all the same. The kids then watched some television in another room while Erica, my mom, and I (other family members had gracefully left by this point) cleaned up in the kitchen and finally talked about what had happened. My mom also related some things about the past few months that I wished she had told us earlier, as we all certainly would have more strongly suggested caution in pursuing a reconciliation at all, much less a costly dinner and celebration. But that couldn't be changed, so we tried to focus on helping her recover from the weekend that had had gone up in flames - and the fresh bitterness of hurt and dissapointment. I had planned to stay a couple extra days, because Dave had to be out of town Monday and Tuesday, and my mom asked if I would still stay. Again, I like intense privacy in times of great distress, but my mother would rather have family around, so I had agreed to stay. My crew can certainly keep anyone distracted! :-) (And Dave, by the way, had also left by this time.) Anyway, it was a solemn conversation, but as usual, we found ways to lighten the mood, my mom wondering if she could possibly be the first woman ever to be jilted on the day she was supposed to renew her vows - for a 30-plus year marriage, for heaven's sake! - and my sister and I thinking of creative ways to make good use of the leftover cake (we knew where my dad's furniture was being stored, for one thing...).
So my mom is stiil dazed from all this, and although we're doing our best to keep her occupied, she will have to grieve and put the pieces back together - again. As for the rest of us, it was a sad, bewildering, and exhausting weekend, but, unfortunately, not completely unexpected. The only good news from all this is that it may nudge my mom into taking more definite steps toward moving my way, something I would certainly welcome!
My family didn't used to have such a flair for drama, but we certainly have developed it in recent years, leading up to this past weekend's fiasco. Dave had to work in North Carolina all day Friday and again on Saturday morning, and since he needed a hotel room anyway, he secured one in Rock Hill so that we could all come up early for my parents' vow renewal on Sunday. He worked late Friday night, so the kids and I spent the evening with my mom and my sister Erica who had just recently returned from a six-week stint in Cambodia. My dad was also working, but arrived home just before I was ready to take the kids over to the hotel. It was strange to see him back at the apartment, but in a good way - I hoped silently that this renewal of committment would indeed be genuine and enduring.
Saturday morning took Dave to work, and the kids and I relaxed at the hotel until they grew restless, and then I took them to a nearby park until lunchtime. We then drove back over to my mom's, where we found that my aunt and uncle, along with my grandmother, had just arrived from Tennessee. We enjoyed visiting with them, although I noted silently that my dad seemed a little less than enthused about everything, and Erica said the same thing out loud to me later. We hoped he was just tired. But not too long after lunch, my mom took a long phone call from another sister, who was apparently disgruntled about something, then my dad went outside to make a long call to the same person. He came back in, then he and my mom went out to talk.
"We'll be right back," my mom said, with forced cheerfulness as they walked out the door.
"Well, we'll be back," my dad amended, with his own wan smile.
I didn't say anything, but felt like throwing something at the door they closed behind them. I hoped they were really just "discussing" whatever problem it was my sister was having with the upcoming event - a strange wish, given some of the interesting episodes on this score we've seen at major family events years past. (So I guess we've always had a little dramatic flair, at least in one corner of the family - but that's all I'll say about that.) But just about anything would be better than the kind of outdoor discussions my parents have had in the past year and a half. I took a deep breath, anyway, and put tried to put it on a shelf in the back of my mind while Erica and I took the kids to the pool.
Dave arrived a little while later, and we went almost straight from the pool to the car, heading for his parents' house in York. I was concerned about what was going on back at my mom's, so I was probably a bit of a downer at the Meester's gathering - which, by the way, had elements of the strange and disconcerting as well. My sister-in-law, just a few months fresh off her own separation, brought a "friend," really a nice guy, I must admit, and I'm not trying to be judgemental, but she certainly seems to be dealing with things in a pretty cool and calculating manner, especially given the fact that she has twin daughters who are at a rather delicate, pre-adolescent age. The rest of the family seems a little concerned on this point as well, but my mother-in-law commented that as far as the girls were concerned, they only knew the new man in their mom's life to be just a friend. I don't think the girls are stupid - I believe they probably know better, and I wonder if they are really taking their father's complete departure and all the subsequent and upcoming changes as casually as everyone would like to think. BUT... it's not my life, and they are not my children, and I do not wish to presume and speculate - too much, anyway! - about someone else's life. Things are interesting enough in my own corner of the world, and indeed, things were brewing back on the Rock Hill end.
On leaving Dave's family, we were planning to go visit at my mom's again, but they were just leaving for a late dinner, and even though my dad was at work, the air seemed charged with something. Erica had called me earlier to say that she understood the trouble to be involving just a problem our sister was having, and that everything was still good for Sunday, but I wasn't quite sure. We joined everyone at dinner for a little while, and everyone was smiling, but my mom seemed pensive. As we left, I sent Erica a text asking her, since she was staying in the apartment, to keep my informed of anything she discovered. I didn't hear anything that night, and when I woke on Sunday morning, I lay in bed thinking of how to secure our last-minute gift for the party. My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of text messages arriving on my phone - it was Erica, describing how my dad was packing up all of his things. How very, very ghastly. My mom, she said, was gone, and as my dad was gathering the last of things, he had come into see Erica, explaining briefly that "it just wasn't the right time." The rest of my crew woke up shortly after, and I showed Dave what Erica had sent, but we didn't say anything to the kids just yet. We went to breakfast, deflecting comments from excited children about the party, and after we got back to our room, my aunt called to fill in the details - as many as she knew, at any rate. Of course, it was a familiar and ugly story, not surprising but made more horrible because of the wretched timing. She said, anyway, that my mom had gone to see some good friends for some comfort and counsel, and that she would be back that afternoon and hoped everyone would still come to the apartment. If it were me, I would want to be mostly alone, but my mom is quite the opposite and actually finds comfort in people, so we reluctantly agreed to go back over after checking out.We told the children that the party was cancelled, and we fielded questions about when there would be another celebration. We tried to answer delicately, and not squash child-like faith with our grown-up knowledge and cynicsim, but it was hard. Frankly neither Dave nor I could imagine how my parents could even think of attempting another reconciliation after this. When we got to the apartment, at any rate, only my grandmother and my sister were there, and Erica was getting ready to go to a movie with my other sister, Mary K., and her husband. When they left, the apartment was quiet and the air rather oppressive as we just sat and waited for who knew what. I decided to call my dad, and as soon as that long and difficult conversation was out of the way, we went to lunch, my grandmother opting to stay and get some rest. Upon returning, my aunt and uncle had arrived, and my mom appeared shortly thereafter. We went down to the pool, and the kids enjoyed themselves, but my mom, naturally, was very weary, and the mood among the rest of the adults was not terribly heavy, but resigned at the very least. My mom had asked the friends she had seen earlier to come later in the afternoon to oversee a family pow-pow, and shortly after we returned from the pool, they arrived. We were, at the time, cutting into the small wedding cake my mom had purchased for the event - but to redeem it somewhat, we put candles in it and sang Happy Birthday to the people in the family who had to closest birthdays. :-) As we were eating the cake, however, there was a knock on the door. I opened it - to the rest of the invited guests for the cancelled ceremony. My sisters and I nearly sank into the floor as we realized they hadn't been informed of the disasterous changes. They came in, unintenionally jarring the close family atmosphere we were nuturing in the apartment, and for a time some of us felt very awkward. But my mom and Erica rose to the occasion, as usual, and Erica merely showed everyone her pictures from Cambodia, while my mom made the rounds and explained what had happened. The guests, three very kind couples who have been devoted friends of the family for years, stayed for an uncomfortably long time, until they finally decided to redeem their own evening with some dinner elsewhere. Of course we had been glad to see them - in a way - but I think we were all glad to see them go all the same. The kids then watched some television in another room while Erica, my mom, and I (other family members had gracefully left by this point) cleaned up in the kitchen and finally talked about what had happened. My mom also related some things about the past few months that I wished she had told us earlier, as we all certainly would have more strongly suggested caution in pursuing a reconciliation at all, much less a costly dinner and celebration. But that couldn't be changed, so we tried to focus on helping her recover from the weekend that had had gone up in flames - and the fresh bitterness of hurt and dissapointment. I had planned to stay a couple extra days, because Dave had to be out of town Monday and Tuesday, and my mom asked if I would still stay. Again, I like intense privacy in times of great distress, but my mother would rather have family around, so I had agreed to stay. My crew can certainly keep anyone distracted! :-) (And Dave, by the way, had also left by this time.) Anyway, it was a solemn conversation, but as usual, we found ways to lighten the mood, my mom wondering if she could possibly be the first woman ever to be jilted on the day she was supposed to renew her vows - for a 30-plus year marriage, for heaven's sake! - and my sister and I thinking of creative ways to make good use of the leftover cake (we knew where my dad's furniture was being stored, for one thing...).
So my mom is stiil dazed from all this, and although we're doing our best to keep her occupied, she will have to grieve and put the pieces back together - again. As for the rest of us, it was a sad, bewildering, and exhausting weekend, but, unfortunately, not completely unexpected. The only good news from all this is that it may nudge my mom into taking more definite steps toward moving my way, something I would certainly welcome!
Monday, July 7, 2008
On of My Favorite Things
Blueberry picking! I took the boys the blueberry farm near our house, where pick-your-own blueberries are just a dollar a pound, and we had a great time! I had Chase on my back in the sling most of the time, and he ate berries, some of which he picked himself, to stay happy. When he grew tired of being confined, I let him walk a bit, and we didn't make it much longe after thatr, but we picked about six pounds of berries in all, and I confess it was one of those times I was glad Aimee was off happily doing something else, as we were able to make it the entire outing without anyone complaining about being too hot, or too tired, etc. :-)
Question
I mentioned in a previous post a "dramatic swing of the pendulum" concerning my parents. I won't go into any details - indeed, I know so few myself - but suffice it to say that they are renewing their vows in a couple of weeks. They're having a dinner and informal ceremony, to which we're all invited, and it has occurred to me that a gift would probably be appropriate on such an occassion. I am not very talented at gift selection, I must admit, and even less so now, when I can't fathom what in the world to give my parents for this celebration. Any ideas on what to bestow on one's parents, long married but recently, and suddenly, coming to the surface again after a tumultuous 17 months of separation? There is no adequate name for this kind of thing! :-)
Sunday, July 6, 2008
More...
When Hannah posted her comment requesting more information about Aimee at camp, I thought I could just post a link to last year's camp entry, but it seems that didn't have much information, besides clues to my own neuroses. :-) So I'll offer a few more details... I began going to this particular church camp when I was just barely on the fringes of middle school, so there were several camp weeks for me that were devoted primarily to thoughts of BOYS. Other memories managed to survive, though, and those were of great missionary and Bible meetings (yes, some produced those wrenching but shallow emotions, but most were solid teaching times), incredible friends (some of which became pen-pals - back in the day! - for years), and rolicking fun. Because my parents were well known in the District of our denomination, I knew many of the counselors and other administrators (the camp nurse, for instance, was present when I was born!), and they and the friends I met were almost like an extended family to me. My mom began going as an assistant camp nurse after I graduated - I think I would have been mortified if she had been there during any of my camp years! - and so when Aimee approached the earliest age to attend, I was all the more open to the idea of her going. Aimee, of course, thought it sounded like heaven, and so last year we signed her up and she rode down with my mom. She stayed in a cabin with a counselor and other girls, of course, but my mom kept an eye on her and called to give daily reports. Mom couldn't go this year, but Aimee was unphased and wouldn't think of anything else but going again. Because we're attending a church in this District again, she was able to register with a church group, as well as ride down with them, which was just thrilling for her. I was glad that Dave volunteered to drive ( and the drive was actually only 1 1/2 hours), so that someone familiar could at least be there to settle her in, but overall I think she'll be more than fine. She'll be there for five nights, returning on Friday. Just as she returns, by the way, I will be leaving with a friend for a seminar in Virginia. Exciting, but nervewracking!
Camp
Aimee is off to camp this afternoon - indeed, on her way now, as Dave is driving her and some of the other kids from church on the 2 1/2 hour trek. Drew is tagging along for the ride, and I am here with the little boys, contemplating a week without Her Highness. :-) She and I spent all yesterday afternoon packing for her week, and she was incredibly eager to be off. Last year I heard that she had a short bout of homesicknesses toward the end of the week; I wonder if she'll even have that this year! I went to the same camp, although I was several years older when I began attending, and it was definitely one of the highlights of my youth. I imagine it will be only more so for the infinitely more outgoing Aimee.
Wednesday, July 2, 2008
Another Movie Review
On Sunday my parents arrived for a visit - both parents, together, in a rather dramatic swing of the pendulum. But more on that later perhaps. My mom had wanted us all to go to the Big Mo drive-in again, this time to see WALL-E, so as soon as they arrived, we all went to get some dinner, then on to the drive-in. Last time we went, we waited in a line of cars for about thirty minutes just to get in, and the movies were beginning to sell out, so this time we arrived about an hour and a half early, only to discover that it wasn't nearly so busy this time. But the kids played on the playground, mostly happily, and the adults talked and took turns chasing and playing with the very active little boys until the movie began. Right before it started, a truck pulled up next to us, the inhabitants of which were not too considerate of their fellow patrons. They noisily prepared their snacks and drinks, with the truck doors open so that they and everyone else could see, and then once they were finally settled, the mom lit up the first of an endless chain of cigarettes. The fact that my senses were being constantly assaulted with the wafting smoke no doubt affected my perception of the rest of the evening, the movie included, so I suppose you can take the following with a grain of salt.
WALL-E the robot was certainly cute, and the kids were not disappointed. They didn't seem to mind the fact that the dialogue was non-existent for the first 10 or 15 minutes and that thereafter it consisted mostly of the robotic chanting of his name. I didn't mind that, either, but I was on my guard from the start, when it appeared the movie was heavily weighted with an environmental message. It's not that I'm a proponent of trashing the planet - I try to recycle and to be a good steward of the earth all the way around - but at the movies, I dislike the ploy of having my emotions toward a story drawn into and intertwined with someone else's political opinions. I mind it slightly less in grown-up movies (as in The Day After Tomorrow), because then I can usually disregard the attempt at exciting my real-life fears, but that is not always so easy in a children's movie. In this case, I had visions of one or more of my children lecturing me about throwing anything away. And since we apparently have a definite thread of OCD here, I could also see little people fretting entire days (and nights) away as they imagined towers of trash and the necessity of leaving Earth. But fortunately it seemed WALL-E's deeper message went over their heads this time, and they seemed to enjoy the "love" story between the robot and and the droid, which was indeed sweet. In short, it wasn't my favorite movie - give me something like Toy Story! - but it was entertaining and sharply done. Three stars?
WALL-E the robot was certainly cute, and the kids were not disappointed. They didn't seem to mind the fact that the dialogue was non-existent for the first 10 or 15 minutes and that thereafter it consisted mostly of the robotic chanting of his name. I didn't mind that, either, but I was on my guard from the start, when it appeared the movie was heavily weighted with an environmental message. It's not that I'm a proponent of trashing the planet - I try to recycle and to be a good steward of the earth all the way around - but at the movies, I dislike the ploy of having my emotions toward a story drawn into and intertwined with someone else's political opinions. I mind it slightly less in grown-up movies (as in The Day After Tomorrow), because then I can usually disregard the attempt at exciting my real-life fears, but that is not always so easy in a children's movie. In this case, I had visions of one or more of my children lecturing me about throwing anything away. And since we apparently have a definite thread of OCD here, I could also see little people fretting entire days (and nights) away as they imagined towers of trash and the necessity of leaving Earth. But fortunately it seemed WALL-E's deeper message went over their heads this time, and they seemed to enjoy the "love" story between the robot and and the droid, which was indeed sweet. In short, it wasn't my favorite movie - give me something like Toy Story! - but it was entertaining and sharply done. Three stars?
Tuesday, July 1, 2008
Updates
The check: A little investigating with the bank revealed the check to be a duplicate and therefore definitely no good. It drove me crazy wondering how it could be part of a scam that would benefit the sender in any way, until Dave received an email two days later, detailing how he was supposed to cash the check, keep a percentage, and wire the rest of the money out of the country - after which I presume we would be left responsible for the whole amount plus fees. Now THAT I have heard of, and I can't imagine how we could be expected to fall for it. But that's that, at any rate.
Ryan: He did not go to VBS the next day with the same enthusiasm for independence. He asked me to stay, and even then wasn't as happy and confident as he had been even on the first day. I wasn't too surprised at this, so I just went with it. He's such an intense little fellow, and I believe he wants to reaffirm (almost constantly) that he can trust those of us he loves. If he pushes - hard! - will we still be there? I know that eventually he will feel comfortable and secure enough to take more lasting strides of independence, and that, as Tracee said, I'll think back with amusement at how clingy he once was.
Ryan: He did not go to VBS the next day with the same enthusiasm for independence. He asked me to stay, and even then wasn't as happy and confident as he had been even on the first day. I wasn't too surprised at this, so I just went with it. He's such an intense little fellow, and I believe he wants to reaffirm (almost constantly) that he can trust those of us he loves. If he pushes - hard! - will we still be there? I know that eventually he will feel comfortable and secure enough to take more lasting strides of independence, and that, as Tracee said, I'll think back with amusement at how clingy he once was.
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