At Least I Try

Why is it that pictures other people take of me usually make me want to do a combination of weeping and throwing up, but pictures I take of myself I can sometimes stand?

And also, why is it that when you put the camera above you and shoot down you look skinnier?

That must be why MacGyver thinks I'm good looking. (At first I had "hot" but then I thought of all the people who might read this and decided to tone it down.)

Anyway, this has absolutely nothing to do with my topic. We need a new picture.

That's more like it. And I'll say it again - this is why no one should EVER buy bean bag chairs.

Something occurred to me today. I was throwing out of my closet to bag all the dusty clothes in the back that haven't fit since Toddler came on the scene... (Yes, I realize that sentence was poorly constructed. And I realize I am a writer and that if I want to get myself an agent at some point I really should try harder to be grammatically pleasing to the mind, but I'm going to pull the old "Homeschooling mother of 4 under 7" and beg your pardon.) Anyway, I was pulling out everything that I laugh when I consider trying on, and I found my stash of present size fall/winter clothes. A week ago I was perusing my selection and found my cool weather options strangely lacking, which of course necessitated a trip to the mall.

Now, you are asking how I managed to lose clothes I wore not 6 months ago, but it's been a little longer. I haven't seen most of these clothes for a good two years due to pregnancy and all of it's accompaniments. So I guess I can be allowed a little credit, but still - I would save a lot of money if #1 - I wasn't a different size (postpartum, nursing, newly pregnant and really really pregnant) every time I turn around, and #2 - if I remembered where I put the present category's stash.

I like to say I'm organized, but the truth is I am not. I do spend a lot of time organizing, but everything seems to automatically revert to unorganized.

I am an unorganized person who would really really really love to be organized.

Any tips would be helpful. Not just for the clothes but for any facet of homemaking and homeschooling. And keeping things organized rather than just having to reorganize, if such a thing is even feasible.

Thank you and good night.

Dare You, Part 2

I realize it's not tomorrow. Upon my word, this is the first time I've sat down to my computer since my last entry.

My weekend consisted mostly of attending a women's retreat with about 50 of the women from my church. If you are a woman and you haven't recently attended a church retreat with other female-type people, you really must. You will hear shocking things about your friends at 3 in the morning and say things about yourself at 4 in the morning that you will later wish to disclaim, but all in all you will not be sorry you went.

I also must say that something very encouraging happened at said retreat. One of the women in our church who is a physician in a family practice gave a short workshop on women's health. She reminded us of routine tests we need or don't need to worry about, she gave us a few tips about some other issues related to women, but it was her final note that made my heart sing. She said that she has been doing some of her own studying and strongly suggests that we get two things out of our kitchens. Trans fat and High Fructose Corn Sugar. She also said it would benefit us to be more active. Here here to acknowledging the problem AND the answer.

This is the first time I have ever heard a doctor say anything like this. I know that there are some that do, but it was a relief to me to hear it in person.

That's going to cost me another heated debate, I'm sure, but I had to say it because I was so pleased.

Now on to the second part of the dare. There isn't one. I had a really good one, but judging by my lack of time, the measly 26 pages of my book that are already greatly in need of revision, and the extreme business of most of you, I just don't think it would work right now. So you're all off the hook.

With that I'll say goodnight.

Dare You

This is my toddler. Hugging a gravestone. Laughing with glee. She comes by her weirdness honestly, at least.

I've been inspired. I was thinking over all the recent weighty discussions (haha, no pun intended...) and trying to think of moving on with something a little easier. If you have no interest in trying something new, you better leave now. Because I've got quite the challenge for you.

The first part. A debate. This is a sort of fun debate, because there is really no wrong answer, it being a simple preference based mostly on personality. (I think??) Simply put, which is better, Fiction or Non-Fiction?

You might name the two camps thus: Fiction is for people who have Attention Deficit Disorder and have to be tricked into thinking. Non-fiction is for people who have absolutely no imagination.

Which position do you subscribe to? Why? Anyone living a double life and catering to both equally?

I shall give my position, since this is my blog and I can say whatever I want. I read 95% fiction. Now, my 5% of nonfiction may actually be a larger quantity than someone else's 100% due to my actual volume of reading, but still, you are far more likely to grab my attention with a story that isn't true, or at least one that's written that way. For example, if you want to teach me about growing a good potato, it's best that you make the potato farmer a beautiful yet misunderstood young woman living in 1734 in Ireland who meets a really strong, yet sensitive and good looking guy who at first spars with her but ultimately falls madly in love with her. You'll do even better by me if they end up getting married and inventing the time machine together and go back in time to save the lost city of Atlantis where they find a colony of aliens who have been living in cognito on planet earth for three hundred years. Now that's a potato book that I will stay up all night to read.

Sorry. Can you tell I love to write fiction? ...Any kind of fiction?

How about you? What floats your boat? What sets your sails? Tell us about it. Tell us why you feel that way. Pretend its the most important debate you'll ever take upon your humble soul. Feel free to be snarky, sarcastic, opinionated and hotheaded, as in the end it's all in good fun and we'll all pretty much keep reading whatever we want to read regardless of what anyone says.

Then the challenge. A little more difficult. I dare you to read whatever it is that you don't usually read. Expand your horizons. For me, this requires that I actually take a look at "How to Sell Your Novel" which has been patiently waiting at the bottom of my library bag for a few weeks. What does it mean for you?

Oh, and in all your snarkiness, make sure you advertise the best book you ever read.

And tomorrow I have an even scarier challenge for you!

And just so you know, spell check doesn't think snarky is a word.

Updates.

So I've looked some more into medicinal herbs and I'm thinking I'm going to plant a few in my garden next spring. I'm going to try Feverfew, St. John's Wort, Lavender, Peppermint, Chamomile, Sassafras, Yarrow, and maybe a few more. I got the idea in Yorktown, actually - they had a post-Revolutionary farm and in one of the gardens they were growing medicinal herbs all along the edges. I'm excited to try it.

I've discovered as well that the Shred makes my hip and sciatic nerve hurt. So far I'm just pushing through it. I'm hoping it won't get any worse, because my son grabbed the camera a few times on vacation and took some lovely full-body shots of me that made me want to cry.

At least it was the reminder I needed to make myself get better about actually taking time to eat breakfast and lunch rather than just grab snacks all day until the kids are in bed. I've been making sure I sleep 7-8 hours and drink enough water as well.

Am I the only woman out there that has such an uncooperative body the year after a baby comes? I think it has to do with nursing, at least for me. It's so frustrating to eat right and exercise and still look like I frequent buffets and sit on my duff all day.

But I digress. All I can do is try harder.

How is everyone else doing with their commitments to stay healthy? Time for a weigh-in! (Pardon my pun...) Hit the comment button and let us have it.

The Art of Medicine

The art of medicine consists in amusing the patient while nature cures the disease. - Voltaire

I can see it, Dr. G. You're already cringing in anticipation of what ridiculousness is about to flow from my mind this evening. It's okay.

I know I have no right to speak of such things, as I never took any higher science classes than high school biology and chemistry. I should be ashamed of myself for what I've been thinking lately. But I've found myself being more and more interested in herbs used for medicinal reasons.

Modern medicine is quite useful, as I've said before and willingly confess once again. I'm entirely grateful that my children will not likely die of fevers or complications of childhood illnesses. I am certainly appreciative in knowing that should some unthinkable accident occur - the amazing talents of surgeons and physical therapists are readily available in a moment's notice. It is a balm to my soul to know that antibiotics are still pretty good at killing bacteria before it kills me.

But I'm not so convinced that every little ache and pain we experience necessitates a trip to the doctor's office. I'm skeptical that the host of medicines we subject our bodies to help any more than they hurt in the long run. The more I go "natural" the more I realize how out of tune with our bodies we really are, and how the choices we make about what goes in affect our health and well being far more than anyone is willing to let on.

So that's why I've found myself wondering more and more about the "medicines" that people have been using for thousands of years. It's never been enough for me to hear an authority on any subject say something is so and accept it without further thought. I want to know whether it is a true statement or partially true or false, based on any myriad of reasons including what someone stands to gain by his claims. That's why I've decided to take our list of complaints in this household and do a little research and test a few claims.

So I look forward to getting back to you on this subject. And as always I invite you to share your own opinion, experiences or beliefs on the topic.

Goodnight!

Book Learning and Such

Homeschoolers are funny.

No, not funny as in really weird, detached from reality, socially awkward. Just funny.

Let me apologize for my absence. I had every intention of writing while we were vacationing in Williamsburg this past week. I was so tired at the end of every day I didn't touch the computer.

Anyway, I was telling you about funny homeschoolers. We went to Williamsburg this past week while they were having their home education week. There were about twenty homeschoolers in one of our tours. There was no listless staring off into space with arms folded across chests here. Children which ranged in age from kindergartners to high schoolers listened with rapt attention, arms shooting up to answer or ask questions on a regular basis. I think this was a little disconcerting to the guide, who was probably used to glazed over silence. But as she talked next to a field of sheep, one of the sheep got a little curious and decided to come over and investigate. No kidding - every single one of those kids did the exact same thing. A mass migration suddenly moved from the disconcerted tour guide to the sheep in one quick moment. She seemed a little perturbed - probably being used to classes of kids who are expected to stand and listen and not get out of line. But what she didn't realize is that they weren't being disrespectful at all - they were just really excited about learning. And they are used to learning in this way - whatever comes across their path they seize upon and understand it.

All that to say that I think homeschooling is a great idea. That must be why I do it. But it wasn't why I did it at first. When I started our homeschooling journey three years ago, it was because I didn't feel I had any other options. The private school our church housed had closed. Public school scared me witless, having never darkened their halls in all my educational career. I felt a duty to see to it that they learned the correct things, and had an education based on God's Word.

Overwhelmed, I jumped in. And I made mistakes and changed my mind over this way or that method and there were a lot of days I barely got anything done besides, but somewhere between preschool and second grade, I fell in love with teaching my children.

And the reasons I did it in the first place deepened. I realized that it wasn't so much sheltering them from ideas but exposing them to many ideas, holding the candle of the Bible to every one and seeing what held water and what blew smoke. I began to see all the time I would have missed if they were gone every day for so many hours. It occur ed to me that I was learning right along with them, and that the world was starting to take on a different shape in my own mind as well.

I've watched Eldest and now Secondborn enjoy the art of learning. There are no preconceived notions brought on by traditions or expectations of teachers and other classmates. They've never heard it isn't cool to enjoy learning new things. No one ever told them they have to be quiet, so they ask questions freely. They don't have to hurry to catch up or slow to the pace of thirty other kids their own age, so they are never bored or self-conscious.

I was always worried that they would become social outcasts because of a lack of exposure to other children. It has been the complete opposite. They aren't afraid of other kids, so they befriend others easily. They are also very comfortable around adults without that kids vs. adults mentality, so they have many strong relationships with family, friends and neighbors. To be quite honest, I just don't have any reservations about their social interactions anymore.

Homeschooling is a big commitment. I fully know that it takes a lot of time that some people just don't have no matter how much they'd like to. I would never dare to suggest that because I homeschool my kids, I am at liberty to judge others who don't. I'm only sharing my story, in case there might be that reader who feels the call to begin this journey and lacks only the courage.

Don't be afraid!

Homeschooling saves money. Homeschoolers learn to work hard, teach themselves, respect others and excel in the areas they are gifted. They learn to teach younger children, follow their interests and apply knowledge on a daily basis. They grow up relatively free from bullying, peer pressure and distrust of adults.

What are your thoughts? Disagree? Want a chance to voice your opinion about why you have chosen public or private school? Have at it!

There are Ghosts About

I'm back. It felt more like a few hours than seven whole days, but as promised I have returned to the online world.

I have a story. It's weird. It's a little creepy. It's a little cool. If you think you already heard it, think again. I haven't told anyone the end of the story. Not even MacGyver. So read on. After you look at my really weird picture from the farmhouse at Slate Run Metropark. I have stared at this picture a lot and never been able to explain the big white vortex in the middle. It wasn't there when I took the picture. Someone ruin all my fun and tell me that it's a completely normal camera malfunction or a trick of light. Go ahead.

Anyway, my weird story. A little background. You wouldn't expect a Dominion home slapped together in 1987 would really have that much character that it could boast a weird happening or two. But our run-of-the-mill suburban home has some sort of secret that I have not even begun to figure out in the ten years I have been here.

I'm not going to go into past experiences, because it's 12:15 a.m. and the house is completely quiet and I won't be able to sleep if I get myself all creeped out. I'll save the stories for sometime when it is the blazing hot middle of the day and there are 17,000 children running about.

But anyway, my story from last week during my internet-fast. I went upstairs one night to get ready for bed. I came into my room and immediately noticed that my alarm was set.

This was odd because I did not set my alarm. The kids had not been upstairs since the last time I had been and I didn't think they had done it. MacGyver hadn't touched it, he said. I shrugged and turned it off, being careful to note that the switch had been completely turned to the off position because I did not care to be woken up at 7:15 am if it was not necessary. I went to the bathroom. I came back about 30 seconds later.

IT WAS BACK ON.

MacGyver had been on the other side of the room the entire time. Unless he did it by telepathy, it would have been impossible. The only other person in the room was Baby J, and he doesn't quite have the skills to have pulled that off, unless he's REALLY holding out on us.

So I checked the position of the switch to see if I had just somehow not pulled it forward enough, but it was completely locked in the on position once again.

NOW the story I didn't tell anyone else. The night before, I had a really bad night. The kids were completely out of control and MacGyver was annoying the socks off of me, not that I was wearing any. I specifically remember one point in the evening just staring heavenward and sighing. "I need to know you love me, Lord. I need to know someone loves me."

I know, a fairly infantile thing to say. I got past it and went about my business for the next day until the weird occurrence with the alarm clock. Later that night, as I was telling my sister about it, she conveyed what my brother-in-law said when she told him.

"Leave it on."

I laughed, but then I started to think about it. What if there were a reason my alarm clock had been turned on not once, but twice? Maybe there was something I needed to be up for at 7:15 a.m.

So I turned it back on.

At 7:15 a.m., these were the words I heard.

"I love you. I want you to know. I love you - I'll never let you go."

It was the song "By Your Side" by Tenth Avenue North. And every time I hear it now I smile.

But just because this particular experience can probably be attributed to the divine, we still have a really weird house.

Glad to be back!