Viva la Revolucion

Ahh. Revolucion. Taking your ball and going home. Has it come to this?

I used to think, or rather, I fancied myself a fighter. I had a few pet causes, but who doesn't in college? Now...who has the time? In groups that we inevitably find ourselves, I have found that my fight is gone. When I find myself in a situation that I cannot support, or defend, more and more I find myself withdrawing from the whole group. My husband will disagree because he still gets an ear full from time to time, and he's convinced revolution soon follows me. (I tend to think it's a strong Germanic streak that doesn't like being told what to do).

Could that be the catalyst of my homeschooling adventure? I sure didn't think that the public schools were where my kids needed to be - academically or spiritually, but I didn't want to fight the system. I didn't have the time or the energy. All my energy has been wrapped up into these four little people. To fight the fight, of say changing the face of public school, I would have missed out on watching them learn. I would have missed out on them. They are now my cause.

I think my revolution is in the home. (If you've seen my laundry pile couch you would have thought there had been a revolution in the house). But really, in today's world, the home is revolutionary. It's counter to everything that we're fed through the mass media and modern convention.

There are some people who I wonder why they ever had children - they seem so unjoyful about that situation, but for those who have chosen to really be in their families, I encourage them whenever I can. They are the revolutionaries. They are fighting the system from their own dinning room tables. Whether they have no children, or seventeen, those people who have decided that which really matters is the people around us - those are the revolutionaries.

So, as I have written this, I have thought that I had no fight left in me. I've just realized that my fight is not gone, but rather it's a new one - one that you'll not read about in Glamour or in Newsweek. It's fought by living in families where compassion, selflessness, generosity and forgiveness are learned. Those are virtues that can change the world.

The Mysteries of Men

My little boy is a man. Well, as much of a man as a three year old can be. He "tee-teed" at the potty standing up! There was much jubilation, knuckle punching and whooping between him and his daddy. All of this while the sisters and I watched the celebration in a confused disgust. Knowing that Little Man is outnumbered in the house, I was glad he had reached this manly milestone, but all the while I was thanking the potty gods that our bathroom is tiled four feet up on all the walls. (What really makes me need a margarita is that I've been warned that four feet is not nearly enough). This also means that midnight screeching will soon be upon us when one of the sisters lands in the water after Little Man has obligingly left the seat up. He's well on his way into the Man Club. Good for him, but we girls have no idea why it is so cool for guys to be able to stand up for the task. I've asked Darling Man, with all academic sincerity, and the only answer I can get is "I don't know, it's just cool!"

What Big Eyes You Have

Comics joke about it, parents lament together over it, and it will never change. It is the uncanny ability a child has to ask you a question about someone or something at just the wrong moment. You know, questions like "Why's that lady so fat?" or at McDonald's, when the eyebrow pierced, goth goon hands you your food, " Is that a boy or a girl?"

Well, my Second Darling, who is quite the spunky one, has had several of those questions in the past week, and the amazing thing is that I've learned her "face" when she's about ready to lay one on me. For instance, the other day at our mega-buying club, a man had some sort of pigmentation disorder. His skin was splotchy and oddly colored. She turned up and looked at me with the most enormous blue eyes. Just as she said "Mom," I realized what was coming, and I was quickly able to head her off by saying, "Just wait. I'll tell you in a minute." Thank God she was willing to wait.

I'm not stupid - I'm fully aware that I'm being lulled into a false sense of super-momdom. One of these days, probably in the not too distant future, she's going to bust out with the nastiest on-the-spot question. I'm just enjoying my delusion for the moment. I'm sure you'll hear about it.

Conquering the Beast

Yes, we did it! We made it through our first day of school today. It was great! I think I smiled a little more than this vanquishing squirrel killer. (I HAD to use this picture....it was just to funny to leave out!). There were no tears, no struggles and both Darlings actually told me how much "fun" it was! Miracle of miracles, I even managed to go out for brunch with my Darling Man. The mere fact that I got more than one thing done today, in and of itself, is a true miracle. Today was a great day!

Not every day is this victorious, mind you. Sometimes we are not so fortunate. I am praying that this will be a good indicator of the year ahead. On those days that I feel more like this squirrel than the warrior, I'm going to re-read this post and remember today.

Of Disappointment and Dinosaurs Video Update

Here's the video that goes with my post below.A Christmas Story~Decoder Ring Funny Jokes at JibJab

Of Disappointment and Dinosaurs

After watching this clip from A Christmas Story, you will have experienced the anticipation, elation, and then the final disappointment that my two oldest Darlings experienced a few days ago when we went to our town's museum. I had pumped them up with excitement about the dinosaur exhibit, and the mummified hand on display. We're getting ready to study Egypt in school, so this was particularly relevant. I had even discussed and explained provenance so that the Darlings would understand how fortunate we were to have this special, limited time exhibit. I couldn't believe that an eight and six year old actually "got" provenance.

We first walk through the dinosaur exhibit. It was basically a prehistoric "Small World." It's just robots that creak up and down, and maybe have a

pre-recorded roar. Well, that's a good intro, I guess. Let's get to the fossils. We walk out into an open space that has a triceratops skeleton, t-rex scull, and a few other smaller skeletons. As these historical monsters loom over us and the stroller, I read the info cards to Darlings. Each card ended with replica. Replica, replica, replica. What the heck? We want some REAL dinosaurs. Even my Second Darling asked, "so if they're replicas, how is that different from a model airplane?" I had to concede that to me, there wasn't much difference. "So where are the real dinosaurs, Mommy?"

Diversion. Let's go check out the mummified hand. Oooooooo. We traipse upstairs to the "Early Peoples" exhibit. We blaze through, truthfully uncaring at this point, about the people of the Lower Pecos Valley. We want some mummies! Jackpot! There's a mummified person, in a full-on fetal position, placed down inside a Plexiglas box. "Wow guys. That person died right there and was buried under so much ash, etc. that he stayed just like that. Let's see if they know if it was a man or a woman." As I scan the info card, replica appears once again- mocking me. And the greatest injustice - the mummified hand was absent. Probably because it was the one real thing in the display, it had to be removed to make the replicas less conspicuous. Tell me this - can a museum be a museum if it's full of replicas?

So, the Darlings and I felt like we got the shaft. We want some real stuff! So, now I'm on the search for some real historical mummies and dinosaur fossils. I'm checking into Houston and Dallas' museums. We'll see. I have a sneaking suspicion that we'll eventually end up at the Smithsonian. cha-ching

Maybe now, the silly little video clip makes sense. Darling One and Two, and I very much felt like Ralphie as he decoded the secret code. Just to note: Darling Three was content to dig in the fake sand for fake dinosaur bones.

It's the End of the World

I was nursing Darling #4 in my bedroom, when I heard something.....actually, I heard silence. (If you live with small children you'll understand that silence is a tangible, dynamic experience). I unplugged baby (thanking God she stayed asleep), and walked out into the hall. It was deserted. Into the kitchen, and still no signs of life. Terror gripped my soul. It can't be...they're probably foraging for snacks! Unfortunately, the refrigerator was sitting happily unmolested, and the TV was off. (Also unfortunately, the dish fairy has lost directions to my house). Super Dog was lying on the porch panting, which is a sure sign that there's no one outside to play with him. Where were my darlings? I went back down the hallway and ventured into the Shadowlands, also known as their bedrooms. Every single one of them was under their own covers, asleep!!!! I dropped to my knees and shook my fists at the heavens....Nooooooooooooooooo!

Because you know what this means? No, it doesn't mean I get a nap too. Nor does it mean that I have super responsible adults that masquerade as small children. It means that everyone of them is sick! - $#%^&^%@**!