School Days

So here's the thing. We've been "schooling" off and on all summer with the girls, much to their chagrin. BUT, today was the first day of school for all the kids in our district. So, if you were wondering, here's what the first day of school looked like for the girls today.

However, my little Max had an official first today: his first day of preschool. He could not have been more excited. (And as a side note, oh my word. Isn't he adorable? He looks like such a handsome little man. I may or may not have teared up a little today when I picked him up and heard him chattering on and on about his day. Anyway, this picture melts my heart!)

As for me, I was pretty excited for the few minutes when Ian was asleep and Max was at preschool when I could focus on the girls and their schoolwork. Ah, the ever elusive balancing act. Maybe I'll figure it out one of these years.

Coming up for air

Oh look, a blog! I wonder how long this has been sitting here...?!

It's May. It's warm outside. It's the end of the school year. Things seem to be getting away from me lately.

So we're moving. Hallelujah and praise everyone. Our tiny two bedroom treehouse, originally envisioned as a two-year plan, has sold, and we'll be closing on it mid-June. I can't deny how exciting the thought of living somewhere with more than two bedrooms is, but as always, our timing leaves something to be desired. Two weeks ago, our agent told us to plan on August; two days later she texted to tell us mid-June. Of course, mid-June is also violin institute time, so we'll either be moving our entire household the weekend right before or right after Abby and I check out of life for a week to play violin. I have officially packed one box. Go me.

The problem with selling our house, however, is finding a new place to live. We should have that nailed down this weekend, hopefully. It's a bit unnerving to know that we have to leave, but don't necessarily have a place to move into. We are learning a lot about faith. A LOT.

I am, however, pretty proud to announce that we have very nearly completed our first year of homeschooling. There have been many tears, fights, and struggles, but I'm pretty sure that we've all learned something in the process. And we've *gasp* decided to continue homeschooling next year. Although I must confess that we're in the midst of some pretty serious spring fever around here. It manifests itself in many different ways, notably my utter lack of motivation, and the girls taking hours to complete assignments that they could dash off in 15 minutes if they weren't so distracted by the gorgeous weather. Now I know just a little bit of how public school teachers feel.

We are trying to nightwean Ian. And by trying I mean I'm trying, and Ian is not. I feel bad for him, I do. I'm the one that has changed the rules with such callous disregard for his feelings. And he's the one that is crying for hours about it. In the middle of the night. Which makes teaching 6am violin lessons an extra bad idea. I'm trying to decide if it will get better if we keep working on it, or if I'll actually die of tiredness in the process. Is it possible to die from tiredness? I don't actually know, but even after an industrial-strength Diet Coke, I'm still feeling like I could fall asleep faster than a sleep=deprived narcoleptic, so who knows.

Wish me luck. And Diet Coke. I'm going to need lots of both.

Snapshots

Yesterday, I looked around my house, surveyed my four children, and couldn't for the life of me figure out what was missing. It took me a minute to realize what I was hearing: nothing. It was completely quiet, a rarity in my house.

Abby was reading an abridged version of "Don Quixote." And despite the fact that I took a picture of her curled up on the couch doing just that, it seems to have been sucked into the great void of cyberspace. So you'll have to trust me on that one.

 Max had swiped one of my shirts and was wearing it with the sleeve over his head. He would then proceed to jump off the couch and yell "Super Max to the rescue!"

 Ashlynn was diagramming sentences.

And Ian had a bucket on his head.

So the house was blessedly, peacefully quiet. For about 3.2 seconds, at which time Ian tripped on something because there was a bucket on his head and he couldn't see where he was going, Max started screaming because he was done wearing a shirt on his neck, and the girls started whining for lunch. 

But I enjoyed those few seconds...

Things I'm learning this week

It's not all about long division, geometry, and past participles around here, folks. Nope, I'm doing lots of learning, myself.

For example, I've learned that a toddler and a bottle of red salad dressing can make a very, very large mess on our already ugly beige carpet. Likewise, a seemingly small amount of toothpaste goes a long, long way when Ian's involved.

I've also learned that buying a violin for my own kid when I'm a violin teacher turns me into one of those indecisive pain-in-the-rear end Suzuki moms that used to drive me crazy during the10 years I worked at the music store. The good news? We are now the proud owners of a very nice 3/4 violin, which at the rate Abby is growing will last us around 8 months. Then we get to start the whole process over again.

I've learned that even my littlest of boys belongs outside as much as possible. Hallelujah for the return of sunshine, blue skies, afternoons outside with dozens of neighborhood kids, and Max wearing "fip fops" every time he heads outside to play. And while Ian still has to learn that running, walking, or riding his cute little toddler bike in the street is not ok, I am so grateful for these wonderful afternoons where I've been able to send my kids outside to wear themselves out.

I've learned that chalk art on the driveway is another sure sign of spring. And it makes me smile every time I look outside.

I've re-learned that having piano festival and violin federation on the same Saturday is more than a little nutty. Add my husband flying to Turkey the morning of both and I have a recipe for Crazy Town.

I've learned that when I committed in September to homeschooling for an entire year and said "No matter what, I won't make any permanent decisions about my childrens' education in February in March," it was very nearly prophetic. Because in the midst of fever-y babies, spelling tests, and fighting children, a public school right down the street, Sesame Street for the boys and a nap for me seem pretty darn appealing.

I've learned that a 20 minute nap on the way home from violin lessons will power my baby for three hours past his bedtime.

I've figured out that applying for health insurance plans has taken years off my life. (How I love me some irony....) And there's nothing like detailing all medical procedures, surgeries and hospitalizations for the past two years to make me feel like a train wreck. Also, for us, there's not a worse time of year to have our group insurance terminated (stupid job) than February.

And, I've learned that even two years post-op, writing the words "Cranial Vault Reconstruction with a Frontal Orbital Advancement" still has the power to make me shudder a bit.

And today I've learned that even though the crazy at my house sometimes makes me feel like I'm about to go over the edge, after witnessing what many other people are facing, I've decided I'll keep my crazy. At least it's comfortable, thank you very much.

Homeschool Halftime Report

Somewhere in the past week or two, (or three, who knows? I can't keep track of the laundry, let alone my school semesters,) we passed the halfway mark of the year. I almost wish that I would have known when it was, because we would have had a major celebration.

Not only have we survived the first half of our first year homeschooling with everyone alive but:

1) We all still like each other.

2) The girls are actually learning things.

AND

3) I'm not going insane like I was worried I would. At least not all the time.

These are all causes for big party, don't ya think?!

The Good:
The girls are actually learning. I see progress nearly every day. One of my biggest concerns when we decided to bring them home was their lack of writing skills. I'm not exaggerating when I say that at the beginning of this school year, Abby and Ashlynn could barely write coherent sentences. Their spelling was atrocious, grammar was non-existent, and requiring them to write anything resulted in their reacting exactly like they would if I was pulling their teeth out with pliers. Thankfully,this is the area where I'm seeing the most improvement. While their papers and writing assignments still need coaching and editing, I'm seeing much more understanding of basic writing conventions. We do spelling and vocabulary on a near-daily basis, and grammar exercises come around often as well. Their actual writing assignments are something we don't do as often, mostly because it requires so much time and energy to research, write, and then edit and their writings, but I'm determined to do better in that regard. Today, Abby is happily editing her recently-written paper on Belgium to use more transition words, and Ashlynn is brimming with facts about monkeys that she learned preparing her report.

Math is more of a struggle for my girls, but we're plugging along. We've had our fair share of tears from both the girls regarding multiplication tables, long division, fractions and the like, but they're coming fewer and further between so I count that as a success. A few months ago, after multiple days in a row of tears and frustration from Ashlynn over subtraction, she quietly told me that this was something that she never understood. No one had ever taught it to her. I asked her if she ever told her teacher last year that she didn't understand. She nodded, then added, "She told me she wasn't going to help me because I should already know it." Sigh. That's one of the reasons I'm so grateful to be at home with them- if there's something they're not understanding, they're certainly NOT afraid to express that fact to me. Often loudly, occasionally with tears and/or foot stomps.

As for history and science, we're taking that as it comes. We've read some "American Girl" books and talked about the setting and historical events. The girls devour all sections of the newspaper every day which has prompted some very interesting discussions. ("Mom, what does convicted mean?") We've been a little lax in formal history lessons, but are catching up. Lessons for the past few days have covered the three branches of government, the constitution, and the French revolution. I have to confess to cracking up every time one of the girls pronounced "judicial" as "judicle" (rhyming with "cuticle.")

We are fairly organized and follow a loose routine. Morning is for breakfast, chores, and the majority of our school time. At the beginning of the year, we used mornings to practice, but as Ian has gotten older, and busier, and decided to take one nap a day instead of two, it dawned on us that if we were going to learn anything at all, it had to be done while the walking human tornado was safely asleep. After lunch is practicing, and wrapping up loose ends, and by the time it's 3:00, we're done for the day so I can start teaching, or running to other lessons or rehearsals.

We're also seeing lots of exciting things as far as music development in both the girls. Their practicing happens five days a week consistently: Abby for about two hours, and Ashlynn for close to one. Abby is a week away from being finished with Suzuki Violin Book 6, and Ashlynn is nearly finished with piano level 2, and just wrote a long, complicated composition for the upcoming piano festival. This is one of the things I'm most enjoying about having the girls home. We rarely, if ever, fight about practicing anymore. It's just something they do. It's not rushed or shortened because of school commitments, and I have more time to help both of them. Although I confess that "helping" sometimes means shouting suggestions or corrections up or down the stairs.

The girls are happy. While we definitely have our days, I think that they are satisfied here at home. I don't know that they would admit it, but I think they like being at home and having the flexibility and the individual attention from me. I overheard Ashlynn telling her sister last week that "I had a nightmare that I had to back to school!" and I counted that as a sign that something we're doing is working.

The Hard
So I'm realizing that the above paragraphs make our life sound fairly idyllic. Let me assure you, it's not all sunshine, rainbows, and lollipops every day. Far from it. There is a lot of hard. I'd be flat out lying if I told you I didn't frequently wish to send the girls to school for a day so that I could find a few minutes of downtime. It's difficult to be on duty as both the mom and the teacher all day every day.

The most difficult part is balance. How do I manage to mother four kids, educate two, and keep Baby Ian, who is determined to climb on everything in sight, alive? We've had many mornings of chaos where the girls are begging me for help with spelling and vocabulary, Max is throwing his toys around the house, delighting in the noise, and Ian has dissolved in a hysterical puddle of baby goo because he has decided that 5:00 am is morning and is so tired that he can't be awake one more second. (How I gave birth to morning people, I'll never know.)  Many times, it feels like triage: who needs me the most right now?

And that's the other hard part. I am one person. There are four of them. And someone constantly needs something. Sometimes that need involves crying, whining, or throwing reusable glass milk jugs down the stairs and laughing hysterically when it shatters into a million tiny pieces all over the basement floor, just to get my attention. There are frequently times where Ashlynn needs help with a math problem, Ian is climbing on the table, Abby has an urgent question about her violin etude that just can't wait, Mom, and Max is screaming because he just pinched his finger in the cabinet door while he was slamming his Woody doll in it. (Don't ask. I don't understand it either.) I am plagued many many days with epic guilt, worried that I am shortchanging all of my children simultaneously.

I really and truly have days where I fantasize about sending them to school. Just for a day or two. And it's not because of them necessarily, it's all the chaos combined, and because there are some days (weeks?) where all I want to do is ignore everything and curl up under my covers with my kindle, a jar of nutella, and a spoon. Did I tell you that Ian's teething? Molars? All at once and that because of that he doesn't believe in sleeping at night? So mornings are painful, some afternoons I have to prop my eyes open with toothpicks, and there are many days that I'm powered by Diet Coke and the sheer force of will. This week I decided that there needs to be a substitute hotline for homeschooling moms.

The truth of it is, I don't know what I'm doing. We take it a day at a time. And I'm not joking about the keeping Ian alive part. That kid is determined to climb on top of anything that stands still long enough, and then of course promptly falls off. That is when he's not emptying shampoo bottles, throwing onions like baseballs, emptying drawers, dishwashers, baskets of toys, and making his sisters crazy.  I'm amazed we haven't had to rush to the ER for a set of stitches or a broken arm.

And my house. Oh, my house. It will never recover. We clean up in the morning, we clean up at night. But if you're coming at any other time, be prepared to dodge toys of every shape and size, the bagful of math manipulatives that gets dumped on the kitchen floor every morning, half the contents of the pantry that will be scattered all over the main floor of the house, and of course the three baskets of clean laundry that Ian has conveniently unfolded and tried to shoot baskets with. And because Max is still new at the potty training thing, he will most likely be half naked and climbing in the laundry basket full of freshly washed clothes. Don't say I didn't warn you.

One of the first things people always ask me when they find out I'm homeschooling is how long we're going to do it. It's nearly inevitable that I'll hear a lecture about how important it is for my children to be properly "socialized" (and I'll write another post about that sometime later on), or how if they don't go to public high school they'll hate me the rest of their life for robbing them of that opportunity. Public high school? Excuse me? I have a fourth and a third grader. I need to get them doing long division before I can contemplate (and worry about) the wonders of drivers ed, junior prom, and Friday night football games.

So are we going to be doing this next year? I don't know. Maybe? Probably? Ask me again after we've survived February, (Oh how I hate the dreariness of February!) and tried to homeschool and move at the same time. But for now, despite the craziness, I'm mostly sure we're on the right track.

Well, Since You Asked...

"Hey," I hear you asking, "I haven't heard from Stacy lately. I wonder what's she's been up to."

Well, well, I'm glad you asked.

We've been homeschooling. (Forgive the crappy picture- I believe that Max was the photographer here.)

 Max has been eating the Base-10 blocks that Ashlynn was using to learn multiplication,

And then scattering them all over the house.

We've been field-tripping on Fridays, where we river-walked,

fed the ducks,

and let them nibble on Ian's toes.

We watched General Conference and bottled lots and lots and lots of pears.

We did a little bit of laundry, (Ian is forever after in charge of the laundry. I'm all about training him young and all that. After all, it's about time he started pulling his weight around this place!)

We've been sleeping. Here and there. Ok, maybe they've been sleeping.

We've been chasing after Ian who is walking, and running, shredding toilet paper, squirting toothpaste all over the carpet, and all those other things toddlers do. And talking. (Did I mention he's only ten months old? I don't think he realizes that he's a baby.) He has a vocabulary or two words: "Ma!" which he yells at me approximately 257 times a day, and "Plop!" He has long thought this was the funniest word in the English language, and now amuses us all when he says is repeatedly to anyone who will listen.

We've gotten haircuts,

We've instituted a new excercise regimen,

And we've done a whole lot of practicing. A lot. As in, the whole family can now sing the Fiocco Allegro for memory. Abby is audtioning for the Suzuki Youth Orchestra of America, held in Minneapolis in conjunction with the SAA Conference. If she gets accepted, she'll play in an orchestra of 9 and 10 year olds from all over the Americas at the SAA convention over Memorial Day Weekend in 2012. We recorded this video yesterday.

And yesterday, as an added bonus, I looked around my kitchen to find that all four of my children were crying simultaneously. That takes some serious parenting skills my friends.

So we've been busy. Happy. Tired. Wouldn't change a thing. Except maybe I'll take the crying kids one at a time.



It's quiet at my house.

All four children are sleeping. (For now. Knock on wood.)

I'm at a computer.

These are three very big, very rare events at my house.

I'd celebrate, but I don't want to wake anyone up.

So we're homeschooling. It's overwhelming, and joyful, and maddening, and exciting, and lots of other -ings all at once. I haven't yet figured out how to school the girls, help them both practice their instruments, take care of the babies, teach the lessons and make sure the house keeps functioning. It's a lot. There's always at least one someone who needs me. Whether it's Ashlynn who needs help with spelling words, or Abby who can't quite put together the passage in Fiocco Allegro, or Max who wants to play/get thrown in the air/needs a snack five minutes after breakfast ended or Ian who just NEEDS everything, I'm spread pretty thin.

My friend Morgan wrote this post today, and already said everything I was feeling. So you know, just head over there and pretend that I wrote that. It reminded me again that I chose this. I can make it what we need it to be. And we're only three weeks in. We'll be fine. There are bright spots.

For instance, I folded a million loads of laundry today, and was so obscenely proud of myself, (and impressed with my laundry stacking abilities) that I took a picture!

And, Ashlynn sat at the kitchen table completely unprompted today to work on a story she's been writing. She's taken her little composition book everywhere with her the past few days, and has written at least six pages of a story. Today she wrote uninterrupted for more than an hour. She was thrilled. So was I.

In other news, since my husband has been home for a record six days in a row, we bought a car. It's been in the works for a while, but now was the time. Not only because we're both in the same state, or because we got a screaming "Labor Day SALE SALE SALE!!!" deal, but because Tom's boss told him straight up that it wasn't acceptable for him to be one of the faces of his company driving the beat up gray Granny car he's been driving for the past three years. I don't understand what her problem was. After all, the bashes in the side of the car just added character, and the worn out muffler just made it so that we knew exactly when he was arriving home.

Just for the record, this picture shows only one of two huge dents placed in Tom's car by our oh-so-nice-neighbors, who not only find it incredibly difficult not to back into our car when they're pulling out of their driveway, but that much more sdifficult to actually REPORT it. I can't say that we'll miss our Gray Dodge. Especially not when there's a brand new, less than 100 miles on it, silver-blue Nissan sitting in the driveway.

Just to further complicate things, the baby took two steps Tuesday. And more yesterday. He's nine months old. It's not even funny. He's thrilled, and has proceeded to empty grabage cans, play in the toilet, pull books off the bookshelf like it's his mission in life, and whack his poor little head on everything in sight. He's obviously ignored my instructions to stay little for as long as possible. He's naughty that way. And if the kid would just sleep for more than an hour at a shot, I could probably conquer the world. Seriously, we suspect he's paying us back for all those easy naps we got when he was tiny.

Not to be outdone, Max has managed to cultivate what may be the world's worst ear infection. Did you know that ears stink when they get infected? Neither did I. But it's true. And it might just be the worst smell in the world. Because it's Max, we've been through a round of antibiotic drops, and have almost finished a course of oral antibiotics without much change. We got his ear cultured yesterday so we could get a better picture of what we're dealing with. The pediatrician thinks it might be staff or MRSA, but then said it would be "really rare" for that to show up in a child. Yup. She obviously isn't our regular pediatrician or she would know better than to say "really rare." She told us that it may be time to look at getting Max's adenoids and tonsils removed along with putting in a new set of tubes. We have an appointment back at Primary Children's Tuesday morning for an ENT consult. Sigh. I haven't missed the medical roller coaster AT ALL.

Maybe I should have the girls interview one of Max's doctors and call it a homeschooling project. Hmmm.

Not Back to School

I have no computer. Sigh. My desktop and laptop were in the shop and I picked them up yesterday. Unfortunately, the laptop was not actually repaired, (Good thing we paid $75 bucks to have it fixed...) and I'm not smart enough to hook our desktop up, and my husband is still out of town. (This is week six of six straight on the road. Yes, we are excited to see him on days other than Saturday and Sunday.)

So blogging from the iPhone is fun, yes?

Tomorrow is the first day of school for the neighborhood. I just made waffle batter for our not-back-to-school breakfast. We've been going at the homeschool thing strong for almost 3 weeks now, and today was my first "Why did I think this was a good idea" day. Abby decided she needed 2 1/2 hours for spelling and vocabulary, then had to finish everything else in the van on the way to her first violin lesson of the new school year.

I'm still pretty convinced we're doing the right thing in keeping the girls home. But that doesn't mean I won't still wonder about it tomorrow morning around, say, 8:25 am.

Excuses, excuses

Yes, I am still alive.

Barely.

As for my unexplained absence from the computer, I have some good excuses.

Wanna hear them? (Of course you do. I know you do. Why else do you come to my blog?)

Remember how we decided to homeschool? And how I worried that I was going to go a little crazy? Yeah. So here's the thing. I'm still convinced it's the right decision for our family, but I also think it's going to end up the kind of full-blown crazy that only my family can pull off.

We're homeschooling using k12. The great thing about it is that all your curriculum for the whole year is shipped to you free at the beginning of the school year. Some of the instruction is done online, but all the reading books, science experiments, and even a blow-up globe ended up on our porch on Monday afternoon courtesy of the UPS guy. My husband took one look at all the stuff strewn everywhere and quipped, "Are you sure they didn't send you everything for K through 12?"

I had great dreams of getting everything perfectly organized, catalogued, and ready for a grand and ceremonious start. The girls thought Monday's delivery was Christmas and wanted all the boxes opened at once. Abby begged to start homeschooling atleast 572 times before Monday was over. it was as good a time as any to introduce her to the word "perseverate."

This is what my floor looked like Monday afternoon. And this is after we unpacked two full boxes. Do me a favor and ignore the pile of laundry on the floor. I seem to have forgotten how much laundry is involved in a household of six, and Mt Idon'twannafoldlaundry had once again grown to epic proportions.

So now, two days later, we've worked on English literature, Math, Science, and Art. Still to come is grammar, vocabulary, spelling, and history. (Sheesh!) I'm still trying to figure out how the puzzle pieces all fit, and how we're going to do all of that plus the hours of practicing and lessons. Like I said, I had grand intentions of getting completely organized, and was going to type and display lists and schedules and lists of schedules, but since this is the first time in a week I've had a chance to sit down at the computer, naturally I'm blogging about it instead.

So why besides the pile of curriculum in my front room have I not been able to accomplish anything, you ask? Let me show you one little picture.

Yes, this would be my darling Ian, who at the time of this picture had just discovered the wonders of watermelon, taco meat, and fresh guacamole eaten off a spoon.

He looks very sweet. Looks are deceiving.

Remember how he was the easy baby? The baby that slept? Well, now it's all about Ian's revenge.

This little boy seems to have forgotten what it means to sleep, or at least sleep consistently. Where I used to be able to set a stopwatch by his naptimes, now we could have a two and a half hour nap, or a five minute nap. Who knows. And once he finally decides to wind down and sleep at night, I could be required to put him back to sleep 1-4 times or more before I finally give up and go to bed myself.

He's crawling everywhere, but his favorite is cruising along the furniture and walls at alarming speed. Today he reached the dubious milestone of learning to unroll entire rolls of toilet paper. Sigh.

And with all those milestones comes the sheer delight of separation anxiet and we have a wicked case in full swing. With three others, I thought I had seen my share of it, but this one might be the worst. Or maybe I've blocked out all the others, which is a distinct possibility. What I didn't remember is constantly having a weepy, sad, whining baby pulling himself up on your leg, or having that same clingy cling monster scream and try desperately to climb out of the shopping cart and into your arms in the grocery store just because a stranger dared to say "Hi" to him.

So I'm tired. Much too tired. Like probably more tired than when he was a newborn tired. And I know it will pass, and I have high hopes that he'll eventually sleep and that I won't have to nurse him back to sleep every 45 minutes all night long. (Last night I was half asleep and telling Ian "There's no more milk, baby, it's all gone." If only you could reason with an 8 month old...)

So tell me it will get better. Tell me I won't always feel this overwhelmed about homeschooling. Tell me I will sleep again someday. Tell me you're bringing me chocolate and Diet Coke. Tell me my husband might someday stop traveling. Tell me you understand. Tell me a joke. Tell me anything! (I might be a bit starved for adult interaction, can ya tell?)

Abject Humiliation and other fun

So as I've mentioned, spring break is this week.  And since, according to my girls, we're the only ones in the whole wide world who didn't get to go somewhere really, really fun for spring break, (you have to read that in a whiny 7-year-old voice for maximum effect) I decided I was going to be the fun mom and plan enough activities so that we didn't spend the week getting on each others' nerves. 

Since we have to be in Salt Lake on Wednesdays for lessons/rehearsals for Abby anyway, we decided to pack up all the kids for a day of fun.  I enlisted my new blog friend Morgan and her four boys, and we spent the morning gabbing our faces off and taking turns losing children at the Childrens' Museum. 

Ian and Ezra became fast friends.  For about two minutes until Ian, the big bully, starting yanking on Ezra's ear.

And that, my friends is the only picutre we have of the outing, because not only did both of us forget our cameras, but we were both chasing children too often to remember to actually take pictures.  But there will be more get togethers with Morgan and her boys, because she's cool and we laughed a lot, and didn't get to finish any of our conversations.  And we've exchanged about 547 text message since then, planning our escape vacation where we leave all the kids except the nursing babies at home and we run away to talk, eat, nurse the babies, and catch up on sleep.  Sounds divine, right?

OK, back to my story of abject humiliation.

We went to Abby's violin lesson, and everything went swimmingly.  I was, once again, making the mistake of patting myself on the back for being super mom and handling a day out with all four children by myself.  And we all know what happens when I start patting myself on the back.

We had an hour or so to kill while Abby was in rehearsal, so I took the kids to Chick-Fil-A, and sent Ashlynn and Max to play in the play land for a bit to burn off residual energy.  I had no sooner started debating between nuggets and a chicken sandwich when Ashlynn urgently ran up to me: "Mom!  Come quick!  Max threw up!"

Ashlynn has a bit of a tendency to overexaggerate, so I asked her "A little bit or a lot?"

She grabbed my hand and dragged me back in response where I saw my little boy, standing in the middle of a giant circle of throw up. 

Now, for maximum effect, we had picked the restaurant's "Family Night" so every table in the restaurant was full.  All the little children were making grossed-out noises, all the moms were glaring at me, and Max was screaming.  All I wanted to do was run away.

I grabbed the nearest 16- year-old employee I could find, handed him the baby's carseat before he could object, picked Max up by the armpits and lugged him out of there, feeling the glares from the other mothers following me all the way out to my car.  I had to restrain myself from yelling: "I didn't know he was sick! I'm not a bad mom who brings her sick kid out in public just for a nugget fix, I promise!" 

I used about half a carton of baby wipes to wipe us all down, stripped him off and put him in a clean pair of shorts, and we booked it back to Abby's teacher's house.  I dreaded the fact that we still had an hour drive ahead of us, knowing that Max never just throws up once. 

To spare you the rest of the gruesome details, I'll just let you know that our carseat cover is in fact washable, that it takes an advanced degree in mechanical engineering to get the carseat cover back on the carseat, and that Zofran the wonder drug is our friend.

And just in case you're wondering, when the stomach bug inevitably makes its way around your familiy, one of the blessings about having older children is that they actually learn to throw up in the toilet or the bathtub, instead of just leaning over the bunkbed.  However, do not make the mistake of assuming that when you child uses the bathtub to throw up in that they will actually wash it down afterwards. 

*gag*

Ok, now that we've got all that grossness out of the way... (Do I have a glamorous life or what?  Really, my mission is just to make you feel better about your life.)

Thanks for all the kind comments and advice about homeschooling.  We're still kicking the idea around and talking about logistics, but it's so good to know that I have so many friends to lean on.  (And probably complain to!)

We're still house hunting.  Who knew that it would be so difficult to find a place?  Looked at a fantastic house tonight, but things are up in the air with the current owners until they find out if his job transfer is going through.  This place was fantastic, but so is any place where we wouldn't feel like we're stacked on top of each other.  But I really, really liked this place and it has everything we need, so we'd appreciate any positive vibes you can send our way.  Our soon-to-be renters are being patient.  Hopefully we will find something soon, because I'd really rather not move myself, my husband, and my four kids to my mom's basement.  Call me crazy, I know. 

Heaven Help Me

I'm thinking about homeschooling again.

I've always had the heart of a homeschooler, but never had the determination or organization to make it work for us.

I actually homeschooled Abby for the better part of her kindergarten year.  I've always viewed it as one of my epic parenting failures, and confess to breathing a sigh of relief the first time I sent her off on the school bus, but the girls still frequently talk about the fun things we did that year, so perhaps it wasn't the disaster I thought it was.

I really feel the education my kids are getting is sub-par.  I'm not sure if it's the district, the schools, the teachers or what, but it just doesn't seem like there's a lot of learning going on.  Ashlynn has gotten the raw end of the deal this year with a teacher who has been gone with health problems more than she's actually been in the classroom.  There's not much learning can actually get done when you're as familiar with the various substitutes as you are with her teacher. And Abby's class isn't much better.  The better part of the third grade year at the girls' school is devoted to putting together a Disney Program full of costumes, songs and dances from Disney movies.  Now, I support music and performing as much as anyone, but when days and weeks at a time are devoted to rehearsing "Kiss the Girl" from "The Little Mermaid," I start to wonder.

The school is constantly having assemblies.  More than once my girls have come home and told me they watched movies in PE.  I don't want to be the mean fun killing mom who insists on academics at all costs, and blames the terrible school system for everything without offering up any solutions, but come on!  Movies in PE?  Seriously?

But there are other factors too.  The more involved my kids get in their musical instruments, the more they both need me.  The sad truth is, there's just not enought time between 7:00 am when everyone is supposed to start their practicing and 8:25 when they're supposed to leave for school for me to spend adequate time and energy with my pianist, my violinist, the crying baby, and the demanding toddler, make the lunches and get everyone out the door on time when all I really want to do is go back to bed.  I hate being pulled in a million different directions and feelng like I'm short changing all four of my kids simultaneously.

We're also hoping to move sometime in the next few months.  Somehow, 4 kids and 2 bedrooms just isn't working, and we need a bigger place.  We'll be staying in the valley, but a lot of the homes we're looking at are in the boundaries of the school we had such terrible experiences with last year, and I will not send them back there.  There are, of course, ways I could send them to another school in the valley, but it just doesn't address the nagging feelings that both my husband and I have had that the girls might be better off at home.

I know it wouldn't be all sunshine, lollipops and fluffy bunnies.  In fact, I seriously wonder at my abilities to cope with all four of my children all day everyday, and be responsible for their education on top of that.  (Especially on days like today- we're only on the second day of spring break and the chorus of "I'm bored!" was deafening at times!)  But part of me wonders if things might move more smoothly if our family wasn't forced into an artificial school schedule. 

Yesterday was delightful.  By noon, all the chores had been done, Ashlynn had done nearly an hour of piano, Abby had done almost 2 hours of violin, and I'd been able to spend significant time with both of them. The girls practice so much better at any time but 7 am (and I can't say I blame them!) and practicing with both girls was so much more productive than it usually is.  I felt less rushed, and I'm sure that translated into a more casual environment for them. I think that bringing the girls home would create a better, less rushed, and more productive environment for all of us.  I think we could get the chores, practicing, and school part of our day all done in the time the girls are usually at school, leaving their afternoons free while I am teaching.

But then I wonder.  What do I do about doctor's appointments?  Grocery shopping?  I've mentioned several times how I would rather poke myself in the eye repeatedly with a toothpick than take all four kids grocery shopping, but if all four are home with me all day, I don't think I have much of a choice.  And I'd have to forget about those spontaneous mornings out with my mom friends and the quiet hours in the afternoon when the baby is sleeping and Max is watching his one movie for the day. 

I'm wondering if I'm really sane even thinking about this. But I'm also wondering if it's the best thing for them and for my family.

So I know I have a lot of homeschooling friends that are readers here.  How do you make it work for your family?  How do you balance everything?  Do you still find time for yourself and your own pursuits?