I've been trying to think of some snapshot moments form our vacation in lovely Door County, Wisconsin to share with you, but it's hard. Looking back, it seems like all the things I laughed/cried/drank over, were "Had to be there" situations.
Let' s see . . .
The Day of Taverns
The first full day there, (Tuesday) all the kids wanted to go to Pony Rides. They do that every year. In our car (my Mom's, see Vacation From Hell Part 1) there are Hubby and me in the front seat, my Mom, my son, and my 8-year-old niece in the back. Mom will sit back there the whole trip, as if it is Ted's and my job to chauffeur her around.
We got to the pony farm, and there was nobody there. Mom asked me about 67 times where the people were, if the place was still in business, etc. (She is NOT senile, just pretends to b helpless. Asking stupid questions is a way of getting attention. In my book, a question is stupid when you already know the answer and ask the damn thing again anyway.) We explained that the sign on the door said the hours were thus and so, and we didn't know where the owners were.
Plan B, my son needs to visit a dairy farm for a cub scout badge. There just happens to be a working dairy farm just down the road. It is free to tour the farm and watch the cows get milked. Very nifty. We have a brochure or an ad or something with a map to the farm, so off we go. Mom asks at least 3 dozen times in the 15 minute drive whether we are sure we know where we are going.
After seeing the cows get milked and letting the kids play in the playground, we go back to the pony farm. The owner is there, pounding in a sign at the edge of the road. We drive down the road to the barn and parking area to wait. here is a basic idea of the conversation:
Mom: Where is the guy?
Me: Didn't you see him? He was putting up the Pony Ride sign by the road.
Mom: He was?
Me: Yes. We commented on it when we saw him.
Mom: Well, where is he?
Me: Right behind us. He has to finish putting up the sign.
Mom: Maybe it's a "For Sale" sign. I don't see anyone around here.
Me: No, it said "Pony Rides." I saw it.
Mom: Well, what's taking him so long?
It turns out he has to take care of some family business, but he will be able to take us on a trail ride after 4:30. The kids take a vote where to go for lunch. All the kids want to go to PC Junction, a little restaurant where they bring your food on a train. When we get there, the place is closed. (They close on Monday and Tuesday, but we didn't know that.) What to do? After another discussion about whether the restaurant has gone out of business (similar to the one above) Ted suggests a historic tavern that used to be a stage coach stop. I'm all for it. Nobody else has any idea where to go, so by default we go on to the old stage-coach tavern.
This place is very kid-friendly (they even have kiddie meals with cookies.) There is a huge, bright bar area in the historic part of the building with two huge round bar-height tables where all the kids want to sit. Mike and Sue make hideous church-lady faces and shoo the kids out of the main bar into a tiny, windowless dining area with regular tables. Not half so cool. Ted, my resident historian, makes an effort to read the story of the tavern's history to the kids, who respond with all kinds of terrific questions. They are obviously having a ball, and learning something interesting, too. The tables are covered in white butcher paper, and we are equipped with crayons. Once the kids realize they can draw directly on the tables there is no end to the fun. So Hubby, Kiddo, and the oldest 2 of the 3 cousins are having a blast. Mom, Mike, and Sue are huddled on the other end of the table. Mike and Sue are having a strained conversation among themselves, and Mom is doing her signature impression of a turtle inside its shell. Oh, well. Hubby and I each sample a local beer. One beer each.
Once back in the car, Mom pipes up, "Are you sure Ted can drive? He's been (whispered voice) drinking."
Me: Um, yeah. He can handle one beer.
Mom: Are you sure?
Me: (gritting teeth) Yes. (I am thinking, "My kid is in this car. Do you really think I would let him drive if I thought it was unsafe?" But I don't say it.)
Back to the Pony Farm. Does this sound like a relaxing vacation to you? I am exhausted just thinking about it. Once we get there, it is decided that we will be broken up into 2 groups, due to the number of riders and lack of trail-reliable ponies. Sue and her oldest and youngest go out on the first run, Ted and I and Kiddo and the middle cousin Jack (short for jack-ass sometimes).
Here Jack sets up a pattern of behavior that will continue for the duration of the trip. Kiddo and his oldest cousin Barb have their hearts set on riding a white pony named Ghost. Jack decides he also wants to ride Ghost. Obviously, they cant all ride the same pony. Besides, it is obvious from listening to the conversation that Kiddo and Barb remember Ghost from previous years, and Jack has no clue which pony it is. He wants that pony only because the other two want it, also. Jack commences to pitch a fit, but quickly realizes the other pony is smaller, and decides he wants that one. I find the owner, who is grooming the horse I am going to ride, and go help him, leaving Ted to deal with Mom. (I'm evil.) Ted comes t help me, leaving Mom with the kids. We can hear Jack, many yards away, whining that he wants to ride NOW, and what is taking so long. I call the boys over to show them the bottom of the horse's feet and let them brush the horse. They like that, and the whining stops momentarily.
The first group is now back. Kiddo is assigned by the Pony Farm lady to ride Ghost. Jack thankfully does not protest. Strangely, once he is up on the little chestnut pony, he starts to scream bloody murder that he wants OFF the pony. He throws a full-body, screaming, hissy-tantrum, the way you think of a 2-year-old doing. If he could have pounded his fists on the floor or kicked anything, he would have. Come to think of it, he probably did. That poor horse. It works out that Jack's little brother Mike Jr. loved the ponies and wanted another go, so he got it. Unfortunately, Jack's behavior pattern--whining until he got something, then throwing a fit once he got it-- continues throughout the trip. At least one meal and one activity a day will be spoiled in this manner.
The kids now want to go swimming. Back to the resort. Mom has chosen (as she always does) a resort that is situated totally by itself, on the far side of the peninsula, at least 20 minutes drive from anything. The dining room closes st 8 pm, at which time the kids have just gotten into the pool (Piss poor planning, no?). I had figured on getting yogurt and snacks form the hotel bakery, but no. at 10 pm when the pool closes, everybody decides they want to go out for a hot meal. Everything closes early up there. I don't know why.
At 9:30, I suggest to Mom that she make a few phone calls and try to find a place that is open late. She will not do this. At 10 pm, nobody knows where to go or what to do. They are all hungry and want to eat. They will not lift a finger (literally) to help themselves. While my guys are showering, I grab a phone book and go to my mom's room. After about 2 dozen phone calls, I finally find the one place on the peninsula that serves hot food. Guess what--a tavern.
The drive to the tavern is dark, down a long wooded road. The directions are simple enough: Get on Route 57 and go 5 miles to Baily's Harbor. Mom had to ask at least a dozen times if we were lost, and if we were sure we knew where the place was. (Hey, I only know what they told me.) Then she launched into her Recital of Phobias. What if there are wolves in the woods? (fat chance) Bears? (ditto) Axe murderers? (How she fixed on this particular threat, I'll never know. But it comes up frequently.) Snakes? Do we have enough gas?
The good news is, while they do not have a separate dining area, they do serve hot, fresh food (no frozen pizza or microwave burgers) until 2 am, every day, all year, and they never close early. They don't mind kids. They have bean bags and Mega-touch. They even serve a veggie-burger. The bartender is cute and friendly. I am instantly in love with this place.
There are 3 or 4 regulars at the bar and a couple of girls shooting pool. A very G-rated bar scene. So here goes the same scenario as at lunch time. Kiddo and Mike Jr. are both sound asleep when we get there. Mike and Sue huddle at a low table, making church-lady faces and tsk-tsk-ing. Mom perches on a stool and does her turtle impression again. After we order (and I did a very nice impression of a waitress, which my family thinks I am), Ted plays beanbags with Barb and I teach Jack about the Mega-Touch while I am sucking down a rum & coke. The food was delicious. I tip the bartender $10 because she is cute and cheerful, and by some miracle, Mom also tips her $10. (Mom is a notoriously cheap tipper. She was probably afraid that one of the regs at the bar would beat her up if she didn't tip generously.)
Ted is tired of driving, so I offer to do it. Before we even get into the car, I hear:
Mom: Are you sure you can drive? You have been (stage whisper) drinking.
Me: Yes, I know my limit. (I work in a bar, remember? I drink almost every day. Knowing my limit is like knowing my height or weight or social security number. Just matter of fact for me.)
Mom: Are you sure? Maybe you should let Ted drive. (Poor Ted has had at least two beers, and has had enough of this trip.)
Me: I'm sure.
Mom: You have your child in this car
Me: (getting snarky, I'll admit) Really? I hadn't noticed.
Mom: There's no need to get nasty.
Me: I know my limit, and I'm not going to be unsafe with my kid in the car. What kind of monster do you think I am?
Mom: I just don't believe in drinking and driving, that's all.
And at this point I am about to loose it. Mom can drive perfectly well, but she refuses to drive at night because she doesn't want to. Not because of her vision or slowing reflexes or anything like that, she just does not want to.
Me: Well, then, perhaps YOU would like to drive?
We are now treated to another impression of a clam. One day down, 4 to go.
Wednesday, June 27, 2007
Sunday, June 24, 2007
Vacation from hell
Prologue
This is going to be long and difficult, much like my relationship with my mother.
The truth is, I am not sure she is a very good person for my son to be around. Hubby and I are really very concerned about several issues and we have no idea how to address them. I don't even know how I can present this so that it makes any sense whatsoever.I didn't blog all last week 'cuz I was on vacation (in a matter of speaking. It sure didn't feel like one!) nor the week before 'cuz I was busy taking my car to multiple mechanic shops to make sure it was ready for the trip, and doing other stuff to get ready.
The Car
Let's start with the car. I have been taking it to the mechanic for over a month now. Basically, every time I got it back, something else went wrong. This spring has been just terrible for dancers, but I still was doing all right up until about the 5th or 6th mechanical problem, at which point my savings was depleted. Mom lent me the money to handle that and two more repairs. I did not ask for this money; she offered it. I will also pay it back.
My Family (such as it is)
Now, our summer family vacation is a strange thing. You have to understand my family (nobody does, but that's OK) to really get a handle on this. When I was 15, I met the first great love of my life. Call him Mike. We got engaged very young, and I was probably the only girl in my Junior class with a diamond. When Mike was 18, he left his parents' pathetic and abusive home, and came to live with my widowed mom and me. Within a year, I wanted to end my relationship with Mike, and things became ugly. I finally moved out, and Mike remained. I have no idea the relationship Mike had with my mother after I left, but what I do know is that he eventually married (and so did she) and to this day he calls her "Mom." Mike and his wife Sue have 3 kids, all about the age of my son. My kid calls them "auntie" and "uncle," and vice versa.
Back in the day, one of the things that complicated my relationship with Mike was my preference for MALE friends. To be fair, he was justified in his jealousy ( Both my husbands and several other lovers were drawn from this pool of friends). In particular, he could not stand my two good friends Bill and Ted (Yes, we had many excellent adventures together) and Ted's 1966 Mustang convertible. Ted was my best friend in High School and remains so to this day. He is now, of course, my husband.
So yes, my high-school finance is now my son's uncle, and my high-school best friend is now my husband. (None of us knew Sue in those days, thank the gods, or it could get even more complicated.) Did I mention our 20th reunion is coming up this year?
Now for the roster for the family vacation: My mom (and up until this year, her second husband, who had a stroke on vacation last year and passed away last August), Mike and Sue and their tribe, and Ted and me and kiddo. Mom (and step-dad) pay for this extravaganza every year. (In the first few years, all his kids were invited too, but they stopped coming after a while. )
Further Complications
Usually, each couple takes its own car on the trip. Some days we all do something together, and some days each family splits off to do something on their own. This year, I had no car. (Ted's car does not count. It is strictly a to-and-from-work hoopdie)
Between the car drama, and my oldest cat Sula needing emergency veterinary treatment, medicine, and boarding, (another $500) we were really ready to cancel vacation. Even worse, Ted's dad had a pacemaker put in 3 days before we left, and we didn't even know if he was going to make it. The only reason we decided to go was for my son's sake, because he was so looking forward to it. And my Mom lent us more money. The hitch? We had to take her car. With her in it, of course.
My Mom
Here is where it really gets complected.
Nobody understands my Mom, not even her. To say my Mom is timid, negative, whiny, stubborn, and manipulative, is like saying the Great Wall of China is a good-sized fence. She is what some self-help books call a "toxic individual." Before I get too emotional about this, let me just give you a brief rundown:
She finds fault with everything, no matter how inconsequential. For example, she criticizes random strangers of the street for their hairdo or dress. (Not to their faces, of course)
She thinks she is better and smarter than everyone else. Her one semester of Community college and her semi-regular attendance at community theater make her more educated and cultured than anybody else. (At this point I always feel compelled to whine "And I have 2 college degrees, dammit! And I lived in Europe for 4 years. I saw castles for God' s sake!")
She is afraid of everything. Snakes, cows, horses, owls, the dark, you name it. If there is a legitimate thing to be concerned about (small children playing close to the road, for example) she will amplify it to the point where she will want all the kids to come in from the playground because a car might jump the ditch and hit them. If she can't find a plausible threat to occupy her, she will make one up. (Jason, pythons in Wisconsin). Need I add, she has absolutely no sense of adventure?
She has no tolerance for any viewpoint other than her own. None. In a related issue, she is unable to differentiate fact from opinion. In her mind, her own opinions are facts. False information that she believes to be true or wants to be true is fact. (She believes meat cattle are treated humanely, for example, because the government would never condone cruelty to animals.) True information that does not fit her perception of reality is "just someone's opinion." If someone challengers her version of the "facts" she will defend it by saying "I'm entitled to my opinion."
She takes everything personally. If I don't like her choice of restaurant because there is nothing for me to eat (besides being a vegetarian, I have some food sensitivities) I can't point it out because she will get defensive and launch into her routine about how she (the wronged party) just wants everyone to have a good time at this nice restaurant that we (the unwashed masses) don't appreciate, and why do I have to be such a food weirdo, why can't I just shut up and have a nice burger on a white-flour bun like everybody else?
And there absolute worst part is, no one can have a logical conversation with the woman. Not only is her mind made up already, but if you even hint at having a dissenting opinion, she shuts down completely. This is impossible to describe except by analogy. Picture a turtle sucking itself into its shell. Or a clam snapping shut. It's like that. It's almost imperceptible, but unmistakable.
So to tie it all together
Here I am on vacation (supposedly) with my car in the shop with an unspecified amount of pending repair work, my cat at the borders with an unspecified bronchial infection, my father-in-law less than a week post-op, and a pathetically small amount of expendable cash. I am stuck in the car with my mother who believes that I am her chauffeur, and my husband who is rapidly beginning to hate my mother. Because I have no wheels of my own, I can't leave the hotel without Mom, who will not do anything without Mike and Sue. I spent exactly 7 minutes alone with my husband the entire week. At every meal, the foremost question in my mind was, "Does this restaurant serve alcohol?" For convenience and economy, my drink of choice in the hotel room was Bacardi and Diet Coke (Because you can pour the Bacardi in the top of the can and walk around with it.) I killed a fifth of Bacardi in a week. Well, OK, I had help. But still . . .
But wait, there's more
To be continued in another post . . . .
This is going to be long and difficult, much like my relationship with my mother.
The truth is, I am not sure she is a very good person for my son to be around. Hubby and I are really very concerned about several issues and we have no idea how to address them. I don't even know how I can present this so that it makes any sense whatsoever.I didn't blog all last week 'cuz I was on vacation (in a matter of speaking. It sure didn't feel like one!) nor the week before 'cuz I was busy taking my car to multiple mechanic shops to make sure it was ready for the trip, and doing other stuff to get ready.
The Car
Let's start with the car. I have been taking it to the mechanic for over a month now. Basically, every time I got it back, something else went wrong. This spring has been just terrible for dancers, but I still was doing all right up until about the 5th or 6th mechanical problem, at which point my savings was depleted. Mom lent me the money to handle that and two more repairs. I did not ask for this money; she offered it. I will also pay it back.
My Family (such as it is)
Now, our summer family vacation is a strange thing. You have to understand my family (nobody does, but that's OK) to really get a handle on this. When I was 15, I met the first great love of my life. Call him Mike. We got engaged very young, and I was probably the only girl in my Junior class with a diamond. When Mike was 18, he left his parents' pathetic and abusive home, and came to live with my widowed mom and me. Within a year, I wanted to end my relationship with Mike, and things became ugly. I finally moved out, and Mike remained. I have no idea the relationship Mike had with my mother after I left, but what I do know is that he eventually married (and so did she) and to this day he calls her "Mom." Mike and his wife Sue have 3 kids, all about the age of my son. My kid calls them "auntie" and "uncle," and vice versa.
Back in the day, one of the things that complicated my relationship with Mike was my preference for MALE friends. To be fair, he was justified in his jealousy ( Both my husbands and several other lovers were drawn from this pool of friends). In particular, he could not stand my two good friends Bill and Ted (Yes, we had many excellent adventures together) and Ted's 1966 Mustang convertible. Ted was my best friend in High School and remains so to this day. He is now, of course, my husband.
So yes, my high-school finance is now my son's uncle, and my high-school best friend is now my husband. (None of us knew Sue in those days, thank the gods, or it could get even more complicated.) Did I mention our 20th reunion is coming up this year?
Now for the roster for the family vacation: My mom (and up until this year, her second husband, who had a stroke on vacation last year and passed away last August), Mike and Sue and their tribe, and Ted and me and kiddo. Mom (and step-dad) pay for this extravaganza every year. (In the first few years, all his kids were invited too, but they stopped coming after a while. )
Further Complications
Usually, each couple takes its own car on the trip. Some days we all do something together, and some days each family splits off to do something on their own. This year, I had no car. (Ted's car does not count. It is strictly a to-and-from-work hoopdie)
Between the car drama, and my oldest cat Sula needing emergency veterinary treatment, medicine, and boarding, (another $500) we were really ready to cancel vacation. Even worse, Ted's dad had a pacemaker put in 3 days before we left, and we didn't even know if he was going to make it. The only reason we decided to go was for my son's sake, because he was so looking forward to it. And my Mom lent us more money. The hitch? We had to take her car. With her in it, of course.
My Mom
Here is where it really gets complected.
Nobody understands my Mom, not even her. To say my Mom is timid, negative, whiny, stubborn, and manipulative, is like saying the Great Wall of China is a good-sized fence. She is what some self-help books call a "toxic individual." Before I get too emotional about this, let me just give you a brief rundown:
She finds fault with everything, no matter how inconsequential. For example, she criticizes random strangers of the street for their hairdo or dress. (Not to their faces, of course)
She thinks she is better and smarter than everyone else. Her one semester of Community college and her semi-regular attendance at community theater make her more educated and cultured than anybody else. (At this point I always feel compelled to whine "And I have 2 college degrees, dammit! And I lived in Europe for 4 years. I saw castles for God' s sake!")
She is afraid of everything. Snakes, cows, horses, owls, the dark, you name it. If there is a legitimate thing to be concerned about (small children playing close to the road, for example) she will amplify it to the point where she will want all the kids to come in from the playground because a car might jump the ditch and hit them. If she can't find a plausible threat to occupy her, she will make one up. (Jason, pythons in Wisconsin). Need I add, she has absolutely no sense of adventure?
She has no tolerance for any viewpoint other than her own. None. In a related issue, she is unable to differentiate fact from opinion. In her mind, her own opinions are facts. False information that she believes to be true or wants to be true is fact. (She believes meat cattle are treated humanely, for example, because the government would never condone cruelty to animals.) True information that does not fit her perception of reality is "just someone's opinion." If someone challengers her version of the "facts" she will defend it by saying "I'm entitled to my opinion."
She takes everything personally. If I don't like her choice of restaurant because there is nothing for me to eat (besides being a vegetarian, I have some food sensitivities) I can't point it out because she will get defensive and launch into her routine about how she (the wronged party) just wants everyone to have a good time at this nice restaurant that we (the unwashed masses) don't appreciate, and why do I have to be such a food weirdo, why can't I just shut up and have a nice burger on a white-flour bun like everybody else?
And there absolute worst part is, no one can have a logical conversation with the woman. Not only is her mind made up already, but if you even hint at having a dissenting opinion, she shuts down completely. This is impossible to describe except by analogy. Picture a turtle sucking itself into its shell. Or a clam snapping shut. It's like that. It's almost imperceptible, but unmistakable.
So to tie it all together
Here I am on vacation (supposedly) with my car in the shop with an unspecified amount of pending repair work, my cat at the borders with an unspecified bronchial infection, my father-in-law less than a week post-op, and a pathetically small amount of expendable cash. I am stuck in the car with my mother who believes that I am her chauffeur, and my husband who is rapidly beginning to hate my mother. Because I have no wheels of my own, I can't leave the hotel without Mom, who will not do anything without Mike and Sue. I spent exactly 7 minutes alone with my husband the entire week. At every meal, the foremost question in my mind was, "Does this restaurant serve alcohol?" For convenience and economy, my drink of choice in the hotel room was Bacardi and Diet Coke (Because you can pour the Bacardi in the top of the can and walk around with it.) I killed a fifth of Bacardi in a week. Well, OK, I had help. But still . . .
But wait, there's more
To be continued in another post . . . .
Sunday, June 3, 2007
Free will and religion
The first "religious" thing I remember learning in Catholic school is, we all were created with free will. As I understood it at the time, God didn't want to create humans to be pets or automations, who would do whatever he wanted them to do, just because it was in our instincts to do it. No, God already had animals for that, and they weren't all that exciting. God wanted us, as intellectual beings, to be able to choose to love him or not.
I must have stopped paying attention after that, because I never did accept a lot of the propaganda and brainwashing that so many of my Catholic friends and even my husband has swallowed hook, line, and sinker. I never believed in Original Sin, for example, because it just didn't seem fair to me. (Original sin is the idea that the disobedience that got Adam and Eve kicked out of the Garden of Eden is somehow biologically transmitted to each one of us. Some Christians call this "sin nature," which is a more apt term). Some other ideas I never bought were that our "sins" today somehow increse Christ's suffering on the cross in the past, that whole concept of Purgatory, and that saying a certain number of prayers can ease your sins. It turns out that many of the concepts I considered "suspect" in my youth, were inventions of the Catholic church for reasons that had more to do with politics and money than with religion or the Bible. No wonder the Catholic Church fought the invention of the printing press and universal literacy!
I decided on my own that Free Will means you have to make your own decisions about what is right and wrong, rather than let somebody else tell you. It means there are a whole bunch of different religions out there so people can have a choice. And it also means that we, as individuals, are responsible for making informed decisions as to what we choose to believe and how we choose to live. By my logic, "One True Faith" and "Universal Truth" are impossible ideas. The fact that so many people interpret the Bible in so many different ways, just goes to show, there is no "right" way to do it.
We, fallible humans that we are, just do not have what it takes to know the mind of God. No more than a gold fish knows the mind of the person in whose home it lives.
I spent a lot of time in my 20's exploring other belief systems. They all had points that resonated with me, and parts that I could not accept. My spirituality incorporates a little bit of all of them, and quite a bit that I came to on my own. My belief system is intensely personal, all my own. It is a product of my own thought and research and prayer and gut feelings. I developed it using all my natural faculties for logic and intuition. And I believe that is the way my God wants it.
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I must have stopped paying attention after that, because I never did accept a lot of the propaganda and brainwashing that so many of my Catholic friends and even my husband has swallowed hook, line, and sinker. I never believed in Original Sin, for example, because it just didn't seem fair to me. (Original sin is the idea that the disobedience that got Adam and Eve kicked out of the Garden of Eden is somehow biologically transmitted to each one of us. Some Christians call this "sin nature," which is a more apt term). Some other ideas I never bought were that our "sins" today somehow increse Christ's suffering on the cross in the past, that whole concept of Purgatory, and that saying a certain number of prayers can ease your sins. It turns out that many of the concepts I considered "suspect" in my youth, were inventions of the Catholic church for reasons that had more to do with politics and money than with religion or the Bible. No wonder the Catholic Church fought the invention of the printing press and universal literacy!
I decided on my own that Free Will means you have to make your own decisions about what is right and wrong, rather than let somebody else tell you. It means there are a whole bunch of different religions out there so people can have a choice. And it also means that we, as individuals, are responsible for making informed decisions as to what we choose to believe and how we choose to live. By my logic, "One True Faith" and "Universal Truth" are impossible ideas. The fact that so many people interpret the Bible in so many different ways, just goes to show, there is no "right" way to do it.
We, fallible humans that we are, just do not have what it takes to know the mind of God. No more than a gold fish knows the mind of the person in whose home it lives.
I spent a lot of time in my 20's exploring other belief systems. They all had points that resonated with me, and parts that I could not accept. My spirituality incorporates a little bit of all of them, and quite a bit that I came to on my own. My belief system is intensely personal, all my own. It is a product of my own thought and research and prayer and gut feelings. I developed it using all my natural faculties for logic and intuition. And I believe that is the way my God wants it.
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Great quotes form my kid
Regarding when we used to go to Catholic Church:
Regarding a sea gull circling over head: (in the most authoritative little voice imaginable:
After too much teasing regarding White Vultures (in the same authoritative voice, as if we didn't know):
I never had any time to play there. I just had to sit and sit and sit and then we walked in the garden and then we went home.
Regarding a sea gull circling over head: (in the most authoritative little voice imaginable:
You see that? That is a White Vulture.
After too much teasing regarding White Vultures (in the same authoritative voice, as if we didn't know):
Actually, that's called a seagull.
Saturday, June 2, 2007
Hundreds of stuffed animals
Hubby and I just got a new king sized bed. Concurrently I am attempting to fix up a small bedroom on our ground floor as a school room. These two things together are unleashing a huge shit-storm of stuff that has to be moved and stuff that has to happen before the next thing can get done.
(There was an episode of M*A*S*H* like that. Hawkeye needed new boots, so he had to get the supply sargent in to see the dentist. The dentist wanted a pass to Tokyo in return for seeing the supply sargent. Radar wanted a date with a nurse before he would prepare the pass paperwork, and the nurse wanted a new hair dryer before she would date Radar. And so on.)
So it goes like this: Our old twin beds we were using while saving for the new king bed got moved into my exercise room, along with Kiddo's toddler bed, which was also in our room, taking up space. One of the beds went into Kiddo's loft today, and half the books in there had to come out to go into the new school room. The toddler bed is one of those lifetime things that goes from a crib to a toddler bed to a big-size bed, and can also be a love seat. So it went into the school room, too. I had to pull out a bunch of junk that was stored in the school room (like boxes of pictures and memorabilia) in order to even have room to move around in the school room. All that crap is now in the office, which is also supposed to turn into a guest room and receive the other twin bed, which is still clogging up my exercise room. And in order to have room to install the new "big boy" bed in the loft, we had to move Kiddo's 782 stuffed animals out of the loft and put them on his train tables in the play room.
So here's what I have now:
(There was an episode of M*A*S*H* like that. Hawkeye needed new boots, so he had to get the supply sargent in to see the dentist. The dentist wanted a pass to Tokyo in return for seeing the supply sargent. Radar wanted a date with a nurse before he would prepare the pass paperwork, and the nurse wanted a new hair dryer before she would date Radar. And so on.)
So it goes like this: Our old twin beds we were using while saving for the new king bed got moved into my exercise room, along with Kiddo's toddler bed, which was also in our room, taking up space. One of the beds went into Kiddo's loft today, and half the books in there had to come out to go into the new school room. The toddler bed is one of those lifetime things that goes from a crib to a toddler bed to a big-size bed, and can also be a love seat. So it went into the school room, too. I had to pull out a bunch of junk that was stored in the school room (like boxes of pictures and memorabilia) in order to even have room to move around in the school room. All that crap is now in the office, which is also supposed to turn into a guest room and receive the other twin bed, which is still clogging up my exercise room. And in order to have room to install the new "big boy" bed in the loft, we had to move Kiddo's 782 stuffed animals out of the loft and put them on his train tables in the play room.
So here's what I have now:
- The animals need to get off the train table, so the trains can get off the floor. In order to get the animals off the train tables, I need a place to put them. There is a very nice corner which is now occupied by a train and an easel. The easel needs to get into the school room, which at the moment has so many books on the floor nobody can move. So to get my son's room clean, I have to start with the books in the school room.
- My exercise room is unusable at the moment because the second spare bed is in there. In order to get the bed out of there, I need to get the office cleared out. Clearing out the office involves sorting through a dozen or so boxes of god-knows-what. Some of these boxes contain framed pictures that need to be hung on the various walls in our house. There are also my doll collection and my model horse collection, which I don't now what I am going to do with. I could store them in the basement except:
- There is a closet in the basement where I now store gifts which I pick up when I find good ones, and keep until the appropriate birthday or holiday. I need to clean that one out 'cuz hubby wants to use it to hang his uniforms. He now uses the closet in my exercise room, which I want him to vacate so I can use it for costumes, which are now sharing space with me street clothes in one ill-conceived closet. Storing anything else in the basement is a no-go until 1) I find a place for all the stored gifts and 2) we get a dehumidifier. We have a closet in the office/guest room but--guess what--it is also filled with miscellaneous crap. In order to get my exercise room clean, I need to clean the closet in my office.
- As an extension of the above problem, in order to have my closet organized and laundry room neat, I need to clean the storage area at the end of the basement.
Crative math games
Uno
Yatzee
War
Monopoly (using "checkbooks" instead of or in addition to cash)
When we were working on pairs that add to 10 I'd remove all the 10s and picture cards and lay the rest face down. We'd take turns turning over 2 cards. If they added to 10 we'd keep them. If not we'd turn them over.
For place value also remove the 10s and picture cards. Decide how many places you want to deal with - we'd start with 2 or 3 and draw that many dashes on your page. Take turns turning over a card and deciding where to place it . We mainly used to aim to make the largest number so the 8s and 9s would go in the hundreds place. Modellling the thought process aloud in a game situation really helped learning I found. Sometimes we'd try and make the smallest number instead.
Rainbow Maths. Draw an arch and divide in into sections number 2-12. You'll need 1 per player and 2 dice. Roll the dice and add the numbers. Now comes the choice. If you have rolled a 3 and a 4 you may choose to colour the 7 section or any sections that add to 7 - the 3+4 that you rolled or 1+6 etc. The winner is the first person with a beautifully coloured rainbow. Stereotypically my girls loved this and my boys couldn't see what all the fuss was about.
Give and Take is great for money skills - all you need is a pile of coins and a dice. If you roll 1-4 you take that number of coins from the pile. A 5 means miss a turn/take noting and 6 means take 3 from the pile and 3 from your partner. When all the coins have gone or after a set number of turns count to see who is richest.
Also on money give the kids a oupon book or other junk mail and a pile of real or toy money and see what they can buy. We had heaps of fun furnishinga house with money from Life or Monopoly. Much less of a budget constraint than real life!
Yatzee
War
Monopoly (using "checkbooks" instead of or in addition to cash)
When we were working on pairs that add to 10 I'd remove all the 10s and picture cards and lay the rest face down. We'd take turns turning over 2 cards. If they added to 10 we'd keep them. If not we'd turn them over.
For place value also remove the 10s and picture cards. Decide how many places you want to deal with - we'd start with 2 or 3 and draw that many dashes on your page. Take turns turning over a card and deciding where to place it . We mainly used to aim to make the largest number so the 8s and 9s would go in the hundreds place. Modellling the thought process aloud in a game situation really helped learning I found. Sometimes we'd try and make the smallest number instead.
Rainbow Maths. Draw an arch and divide in into sections number 2-12. You'll need 1 per player and 2 dice. Roll the dice and add the numbers. Now comes the choice. If you have rolled a 3 and a 4 you may choose to colour the 7 section or any sections that add to 7 - the 3+4 that you rolled or 1+6 etc. The winner is the first person with a beautifully coloured rainbow. Stereotypically my girls loved this and my boys couldn't see what all the fuss was about.
Give and Take is great for money skills - all you need is a pile of coins and a dice. If you roll 1-4 you take that number of coins from the pile. A 5 means miss a turn/take noting and 6 means take 3 from the pile and 3 from your partner. When all the coins have gone or after a set number of turns count to see who is richest.
Also on money give the kids a oupon book or other junk mail and a pile of real or toy money and see what they can buy. We had heaps of fun furnishinga house with money from Life or Monopoly. Much less of a budget constraint than real life!
The first day of the rest of our lives
The first thing my kiddo said to me this morning was, "Wake up, Teacher-Mommy! We are in first grade now!"
He is SOOOO excited! Excited to be in first grade, excited to be learning at home, excited to have Ted and me as his teachers.
So this is the first day of our lives as a homeschooling family. To celebrate, I am going to make fresh waffles and strawberries for breakfast. We are not starting classes until July, when we will be all done with vacations and summer camps and so on.
If kiddo really wants to do something academic later in the day, we can start on his Art practicum for the summer, decorating his loft like a tree house. It will probably take a whole bunch of time, and I figured out it would be a slick way to incorporate more art/life skills into our curriculum. Or to look at it another way, it is a way to get credit for a big pain-in-the-ass project that we wanted to do anyway.
It is a beautiful day today. Maybe we will go for a nature hike later on.
Wow. I've been waiting for a year to get my kid back, and the day is finally here. I am pretty much speechless. Just, wow.
He is SOOOO excited! Excited to be in first grade, excited to be learning at home, excited to have Ted and me as his teachers.
So this is the first day of our lives as a homeschooling family. To celebrate, I am going to make fresh waffles and strawberries for breakfast. We are not starting classes until July, when we will be all done with vacations and summer camps and so on.
If kiddo really wants to do something academic later in the day, we can start on his Art practicum for the summer, decorating his loft like a tree house. It will probably take a whole bunch of time, and I figured out it would be a slick way to incorporate more art/life skills into our curriculum. Or to look at it another way, it is a way to get credit for a big pain-in-the-ass project that we wanted to do anyway.
It is a beautiful day today. Maybe we will go for a nature hike later on.
Wow. I've been waiting for a year to get my kid back, and the day is finally here. I am pretty much speechless. Just, wow.
Friday, June 1, 2007
Endless Summer Vacaation
Today I went to my son's school and watched him get his Kindergarten Diploma. Then I got to join him for a picnic outdoors. And now I am waiting--counting the minutes really--until I can go get him from school FOR THE LAST TIME.
I was so excited I could not sleep last night. I could have gone back to bed after he left but . . . Nope! Too excited!
I am done with getting up every morning at 6 am, especially in the winter time. (Although it was kind of nice seeing the sunrise on a daily basis. ) I am done with running out to the convenience store at 3 am because I am out of bread or peanut butter. I am done trying to figure out how to pack things in a lunch that will not spoil by lunch time.
No longer will every morning be a race to get ready before the bus comes. No more threats of "Eat your breakfast or go to school hungry!"
We will relax and take it easy. We will get up when we please. I will once again have my hour of morning quiet time during which I can drink coffee, exercise, blog, or veg out. We will take trips as the whim strikes us, and go to the museums during the week when they are not crowded. We will hit the beach after Labor Day and and go sledding when the snow is fresh.
I still plan to cover all the bases of proper education. We will of course work on reading, penmanship, math, and so on. But we will be doing it our way. We will be reading real books we enjoy, not some processed textbook crap. Science class is going to consist of planting things and making a nature notebook, and it will over lap with drawing. Drawing will over lap with history, which is going to start with prehistoric animals. Which of course over laps with science.
Can I tell you how excited I am right now? When I was a kid, summer vacation meant lots of free time, but it also meant wonderful trips with my family, children's theater, carnivals and circuses and nature hikes and girl scout camp and lots of educational activities. I always joined the summer reading club at the library and spent countless hours up a tree with a book. I devoted God-knows-how-many hours to my hobbies and 4-H projects. When I was 15, I volunteered to help out with my church youth group, and wound up running the office. Summer was not just a time to relax, but a time to indulge all my hobbies and interests.
I am now thinking of this moment as the start of an endless summer vacation.
Let's kick it off with some ice cream.
I was so excited I could not sleep last night. I could have gone back to bed after he left but . . . Nope! Too excited!
I am done with getting up every morning at 6 am, especially in the winter time. (Although it was kind of nice seeing the sunrise on a daily basis. ) I am done with running out to the convenience store at 3 am because I am out of bread or peanut butter. I am done trying to figure out how to pack things in a lunch that will not spoil by lunch time.
No longer will every morning be a race to get ready before the bus comes. No more threats of "Eat your breakfast or go to school hungry!"
We will relax and take it easy. We will get up when we please. I will once again have my hour of morning quiet time during which I can drink coffee, exercise, blog, or veg out. We will take trips as the whim strikes us, and go to the museums during the week when they are not crowded. We will hit the beach after Labor Day and and go sledding when the snow is fresh.
I still plan to cover all the bases of proper education. We will of course work on reading, penmanship, math, and so on. But we will be doing it our way. We will be reading real books we enjoy, not some processed textbook crap. Science class is going to consist of planting things and making a nature notebook, and it will over lap with drawing. Drawing will over lap with history, which is going to start with prehistoric animals. Which of course over laps with science.
Can I tell you how excited I am right now? When I was a kid, summer vacation meant lots of free time, but it also meant wonderful trips with my family, children's theater, carnivals and circuses and nature hikes and girl scout camp and lots of educational activities. I always joined the summer reading club at the library and spent countless hours up a tree with a book. I devoted God-knows-how-many hours to my hobbies and 4-H projects. When I was 15, I volunteered to help out with my church youth group, and wound up running the office. Summer was not just a time to relax, but a time to indulge all my hobbies and interests.
I am now thinking of this moment as the start of an endless summer vacation.
Let's kick it off with some ice cream.
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