I put together a slide show

about my daughter Tegan’s (considerable) contributions to her community during high school.

 

This picture is from the first year.

She made goodies for the Open House.

 

This picture is from this summer.

 

4th of July, 2012

“Full Darwin” in the laundry.

laundry pile, primus. Gotta love the mops, too.

laundry pile, secundus. This is clean.

So, for those who don’t know, the term “Full Darwin,” as applied to laundry, means the stage where everyone just does a couple of items that are their own personal emergency without supervising a load for the collective good. In a large family, like this one, we “must all hang together, or most assuredly we shall all hang separately,” particularly when it comes to housekeeping, so the “Full Darwin” approach just totally doesn’t work. As you see, here.

Nota Bene: I took pictures of other messes, and unmade beds, etc., but that was mostly for my own amusement, because, really, the mess around here is mostly of my making, any given day, and for some reason the children believe enough people read this blog that they’d be “famous” as untidy children. lol.

Wordless Wednesday #9

Subtitled “How I spent my Thanksgiving Vacation”

This is very many Legos

Sure, I cooked an enormous meal, administered an ACT practice test, did laundry, heated water with wood, took care of 7 people, 2 guinea pigs, and a chicken, had people over… but I cleaned and sorted all these Legos, which don’t represent the entire stash, by a long shot.

You do know Lego guys have arms that are both removable and non-symmetric, don’t you? 😉

It’s that time of the year again!

Holiday meal at Disney's Vero Beach resort

And, no, I don’t mean the time of Peace and Goodwill towards men (or women, if they mattered.)

No, the time of the year I refer to is the semi-annual appearance of my TigerMom doppelganger. Without being too Three Faces of Eve about it, I must admit that occasionally I suffer from a sort of evil possession that turns me into the Type A person I was raised to be, before extensive therapy made me almost suitable for human contact.

This cat does not live here. However, cats don't care.

At those times I become like River, from Serenity, except not adorable or waifish and without a supportive brother. Lethal, crazy, and not all there.

The most recent occasion was our run-up to Standardized Testing. The 2 high-schoolers are taking the ACT in December. So we’re doing pre-tests, and writing exercises, and, in general, turning our curriculum upside-down to give the kids an opportunity to experience success in what I believe to be a stupid exercise. See? I’m conflicted.

Because, while part of me wants to walk away from the whole pointless business

( because a three hour test that assesses, what? Your “academic potential?”  Writing an essay on “What personal character trait has the potential to be most negative?” in 25 minutes tells us something important about how someone will manage themselves in college?}

the other part of me wants the Payoff. I was a class A, named, lab rat in the school system. I KNOW what’s on the other side of that maze. Goodies. Lots of easy goodies. So, let me show you about that maze….

Internal Conflicts like this are the sort of opening TigerMom loves. While I’m in a schitzophrenic Quaker meeting, trying to assemble a consensus, she starts whacking grammar books on the desk and hollering, “WRITE THE ESSAY! JUST WRITE IT! NO ONE HAS A BLADDER THAT SMALL! YOU CAN HOLD IT!”

Ah, yes. Not pretty.

Look at that woman. She's clearly unwell.

I’m just betting on the notion that a young adult without any major parental conflicts to complain about will be mocked and derided by his or her peers. :p

Homeschooling

Like most aspects of parenting, homeschooling has had almost nothing in common with my expectations of it, and intermittently drives me crazy.

And then there are times like this.

My 8 year old daughter, finishing re-reading “The Hobbit”, preparatory to reading “Lord Of The Rings.”

Concern
sadness
grief

I’ve always loved sharing books and ideas with people. I feel so blessed to be part of this.

The math I most need is the ability to count my blessings

I went to bed last night around 1am, which, sadly, is not unusual.

I was disposed to feel sorry for myself, because I was a ‘single parent’ for a week, my husband being off on a business trip, and because I was in a fair amount of pain with a TMJ problem,  which my dentist cheerfully assured me was “chronic” and “due to stress” despite the fact that I’d never previously had it.

I mean, come on. You should have to have something go wrong at least TWICE to consider it chronic. That’s my “rage, rage against the dying of the light” POV.

He prescribed me a muscle relaxant (because nothing says taking care of 5 children orthodontia week like ‘new meds that you can’t take while operating heavy machinery’) and I’d obediently attempted to get them filled, because ALL I really wanted was to be prone in my own house, in less pain. Took the 15 minute guarantee Rite-Aid over an hour to come up with a third of the prescription, but I won’t get into that.

After dinner, etc., had massive trouble converting all the MAC files to PC files for Tegan’s school project, and, what with one thing and another, no one got to bed until 1 am.

Woke up to schedule a visit from the geo-thermal drilling guy for 20 minutes later, to get everyone up to be ready for that, to be followed by orthodonist visit, school, etc. etc.

And when I walked into the bathroom, there was a surprise. 2 surprises.

The countertop had been wiped clean, and there was a full, untouched, roll of toilet paper.

This is Countertop Wiper:

He's actually being a Greek mask of Comedy, here.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Here is Toilet Paper Replacer:

Teens get all the sleep they missed as babies.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I’m not a single parent, ever. I’m part of a team. A Family.