"Common" Core

Seriously, the name alone should offend.  When did it become popular to aspire to be "common"?  I don't want my children to be "common".  I want them to be as unique as their fingerprints, as stripes on a zebra as...well...something else that is unique.

 

 

This is Travis Alexander.  He does take unique to an art form.  He is nearly 14 (which quite frankly blows my mind).  He has been homeschooled, like his siblings, for a total of 6 out of his 7 years of "schooling" to date.  He chose to go back to public school this year.  Mostly to see what the fuss was all about.  I love the fact that he is very introspective about his experience, but even when Travis is introspective, he is chatty.  Travis is NEVER non chatty...I mean NEVER.  But, that is my cross to bear...moving on.

 

So Travis is a bright kid.  I don't credit myself or homeschooling...he is just a bright kid.  So he is doing very well in school.  He pulled up his grades on Power School last night and was talking them over with his dad.  Now Kevin (his dad for the one of you who may stumble upon this and not know us) is a type A "achiever" kind of guy.  It took him awhile to embrace homeschooling for our kids and even then he had trouble sometimes with the attitude that "grades don't matter" (because they just don't! REALLY).  So, when our older kids eventually went back to school he had finally acclimated more and was okay with A's and B's as long as they were learning and "doing their best".  But, Travis is kind of a LOT like his dad.  If he is going to bother to do something he might as well be the best, or at least his best.  So, Kevin sees him as his "great white hope".  He sees him as his "high GPA guy" and he, not so secretly, is excited by this prospect.  I know it is not just the label he is excited about.  After putting three daughters through several years of college and anticipating our fourth college tuition next year, I have learned the value of a high GPA, grades still don't matter...to me...but they do to some and so we will jump through their hoops.  So, back to Power School. Travis has two A-'s.  The rest are A's.  But, I sat a few seats away, last night, listening to Kevin ask Travis "why the minuses"?  In Digital Portfolio it is because he doesn't type well (my bad, that is actually a valuable life skill which I can confirm because Kevin doesn't know his home keys and he does use typing in his day to day job and we often pity the keyboard he has to use because he beats on it with his two index fingers.  Of course, last night I saw him pick up his new Ipad and do some voice recognized notes so, seriously, in the world we are advancing towards how important will typing be?  But, I digress)

The other A- was in Language Arts.  Why?  Because Travis doesn't really understand diagramming sentences.  Now I will ask you, with a show of virtual hands, how many of you have diagrammed a sentence in your life post schooling?  Granted, I am "just a housewife" but I can't come up with a career path that will require diagramming a sentence.  (Other than a homeschool mom...so there is that irony).  Let me just tell you that Travis writes well, not physically mind you.  His handwriting is an abomination.  But, he is creative and his writing flows and makes perfect sense.  And boy does he love to read.  I have seen him get as passionate about a book he is devouring as he gets when he takes the ball away from a charging forward on the soccer field.  He uses words appropriately and in context.  So why, why, why, is he diagraming sentences? Or failing at it I guess I should ask?  I blame me, of course, I didn't focus on it in the past few years when I had him home.  Why would I want that to be what we did with our time together?  It just didn't seem important...because. it. isn't.

 

I have read the history of public schools.  I know why they were created. I encourage you all to do the same.  It is quite the eye opener.  I am blessed beyond belief that I don't have to rely on them for my childrens' education.  I am not a school basher.  There are many things professional teachers are far more qualified to teach my children than I am.  I support and respect the profession of teaching, administrating, lunch lady-ing.  All the people that put their time and effort into being there each day and trying to shape a young life.  I just don't understand why our government aspires to make this generation "common". 

 Where is the glory in that?

 



Holy Skewed Reality Batman!

Or should I say "Batgender-race neutral".  I mean seriously people.

Our two youngest boys watch a lot of television shows that probably most parents wouldn't consider "appropriate" for kids their age (13 and 10).  Sometimes people find out and say, "oh, I don't let my kids watch that show" or "really? aren't they a little young?". Or they silently judge me and silence is often the loudest.  I used to care but I got over it when I noticed that my kids were pretty darn cool in spite of the "inappropriate content" they had been exposed to.  So yeah, I let my kids watch Big Bang Theory and How I Met Your Mother and Modern Family.  But you know what I would NEVER encourage them to watch...the evening news.  With television shows it is easy to say, "that is done for humor or that's not real".  And you might think here that I'm going to say that the world is just too ugly and dangerous so I don't want them to see it...but you'd be wrong...don't fret, I used to be wrong a lot too but I stopped and became AWESOME instead (HIMYM:-))!!  My kids are strong enough to handle the actual news...it's the stuff the media passes off as "news" that I don't want them exposed to.

My cool friend and African missionary Janette Miller and I were chatting last week.  She pointed out the discrepancy in news coverage between two tragedies that happened in the same week.  The Boston Marathon bombings and the explosion at the fertilizer factory in Texas.  In the first four people died, in the second upwards of 14 people died.  The first was sensationalized the second was barely covered.  Both were tragic, both were horrible, in both cases families lost loved ones.  But the media decided that the bombing was more news worthy and nobody seemed to care.

This week the news has been all over an NBA basketball player "coming out" and he is called a hero. My attitude and feelings have evolved over the years towards homosexuality...I'm not going to lie here...it gives me the heebie jeebies...but I don't believe love is a sin and I also don't believe it is mine to judge.  I don't care whom you chose to love as long as I don't have to watch the physical stuff and I presume you would feel the same about me...intimacy is actually NOT very pretty which is why I believe we should all have locks on our bedroom doors!!! and our bedroom mouths for that matter!

So anyway, back to my point.  I don't think Jason Collins is a hero.  I think anyone who is "real" in this world of make believe is brave, but it doesn't make them a hero.  I also don't think it is Jason Collin's fault that he is being called a hero.  The media took a story, knew it would be controversial (NOT newsworthy, just controversial) and they blew it up.

So yes, my kids watch "inappropriate television" but not the news...never the "news" and don't even get me started on "reality" television!

muzzles and shock collars

I have decided that youth sports (specifically soccer the "full contact-non contact" sport) would be so much more enjoyable if parents weren't allowed to attend...but then I remembered, I am a parent, and I love to watch my kids participate so I went back to the drawing board. I was thinking muzzles...all parents must wear muzzles, but, 99.9% of the time what I shout is positive and thoughtful (we don't need to discuss the other .1 percent...I am human and I carried and gave birth to that little human running around on that sports field and if some post pubescent neandrathal with a stupid little goatee runs him over I will likely voice my displeasure). So, if ALL parents were muzzled I would not be able to shout "be majestic Bob" to my little boys or "you're pretty" to my girls (sometimes I get the two mixed up, the girls are confused and the boys get downright huffy) so, mandatory muzzles are not the answer. That led me to wonder about the shock collar that delivers just a little volt to our dog if it wanders too near the wire fence buried deep in our yard. And that is just what it is my friends...knowing when you have gone over board is sometimes hard, especially when you see you're sons and daughters out on the field going head to head (shoulder to shoulder as the case were) in the heat of battle. Those are our babies out there and we want to protect and defend even when we are only supposed to spectate. But, we need to try harder to remember that the other guy...even the post pubescent neandrathal with the goatee...is somebody's baby too. Maybe not as cute and cuddly as ours, but still, their baby. So, I have settled on the shock collar...just a little zing when our comments go from positive to negative, towards building up instead of crushing down. And, I honestly believe the ONLY time a parent should say anything about an opposing team member is if they are congratulating them on a well played moment. You do yours, I'll do mine. Trust me, I know my kid can get ugly sometimes, rarely thank goodness, but if he does, his coach or his father and I will handle it. We've managed to get them this far without your help and we will carry on.

The saddest thing I think, is that most won't even recognize themselves as the ones who need the shock collars. I might have been there once...when my girls were little I thought winning and being the best would make them feel better about themselves, better than I felt about myself growing up, but you know what? We are on the other side of sports with them now and truth is...it just didn't matter...winning didn't make them feel better, losing didn't make them feel worse, in the long run anyway. So, as my experience grows so does my understanding. It's just a game, whether its a "friendly" in soccer or the district finals in baseball....I want them to perform well and yes I want them to win, because winning tends to be more fun than losing. But I want them to win with integrity and I want them to lose with the confidence that it doesn't change who they are. I want them to perform with the knowledge that if they give it their all, yet they err, no blow hard stranger, or worse a teammates parent, is going to yell from the stands and question their right to be where they are.

I could spend time proof reading and editing this piece. I know it is jumpy and I have spelled neandrathal wrong...but stream of consciousness stuff is rarely well edited...it is just mental vomit in my opinion...but, as we all know when we have that upset stomach there is that underlying feeling, "if I can just get this out, I know I'll feel better". So there, I have compared my writing to vomit...have a good day.

Evidently, I AM Superwoman

There are countless devotionals and or inspirational readings that try to convince woman that there is no such thing as "Supermom". Even though we feel we must try, we can not ever be all things to all people. I agree with that whole heartedly. I am only one person and I can't make every one happy all the time. And I don't even feel compelled to try because I certainly believe that, if I attempted to always make my kids happy, they would never learn what real life is like. HOWEVER (you had to know THAT was coming)...I have concluded that I DO have super powers...I will just share a few of you.

1. I have super intelligence: I am the only one that knows how to operate the vacuum cleaner. That may not be the entire truth. I guess it is more fair to say that I am the only one that understands that the vacuum cleaner, when used properly, can suck animal hair and other debris off the floor.

2. I have super intuitiveness: I am the only one who knows how to locate the vacuum cleaner. I'm not sure how super this is...I usually just go look where the vacuum cleaner is supposed to be and if it is not there I take a random poll of who might have used it last and then I retrace their steps to find said vacuum. So it may not be an actual super power because it is really just common sense but I seem to be the only one who employs it so I think that is super.

3. I have super vision: I am the only one who can see the actual debris on the floor. Others can walk right on it in their bare feet even, yet not even feel it. I may be the only one that understands that fruit snack wrappers, empty birthday card envelopes, the little squiggly edges of notebook paper, that have been torn off, and the like, don't actually belong on the ground or tabletops, but I prefer to see this as a super power because then it makes it less annoying.

4. I have super strength: Not like the kind that can lift a car off a child (although I firmly believe any mother could do this if need be). No! I am the only one who can open the dishwasher to see if it is full of clean dishes (therefore ready to be emptied) or dirty dishes (therefore there is no reason to put the dirty dish in hand in the sink but deposit it directly in the dish washing receptacle). In all fairness to my offspring, a few years back I purchased a magnet, mostly because I needed something to put in Kevin's Christmas stocking. It is a two "headed" magnet that says "clean" on one end and "dirty" on the other. This was stuck to the front of the dishwasher to make the opening of the appliance (which has proven to be too strenuous for our spawn)less imperative. However, sometimes in the rush of daily living, we forget to flip the magnet. Therefore, sometimes it is just inaccurate...making the opening of said receptacle necessary. But, they just can't do it. Poor little mortal beings :-(. I really have nothing but pity for them.

5. I have super communication skills. I am the only one who knows how to use an actual telephone connection. I can text with the best of them and will do that if I can but, if a phone call is necessary, I can perform this task. Also, I am the only one who knows how to look up a phone number. We have a phone book, but I think the children think it is only something to prop things up with.

6. I have super soothing abilities. I have the ability (apparently) to make all bad things feel not so bad, simply by being present. This is actually my favorite...:-)

30 things?

Lately the "kids" have been posting something new on facebook. It seems to be called "30 things" and it is supposed to be 30 random facts about them that others may not know. I think this is intriguing. I also think it is naively wonderful for teenagers to think that the things they post are what make them unique. It takes a little bit of life experience to really be able to find the things in you that are unique and that make you a special creation. In order to be retrospective you need to actually have something that is considered "retro". Honestly, I have had the same hair style longer than most of these kids have been toilet trained. But, I'm not here to bash teenagers. I have four of my own that serve me quite well in that area. I love them, they are spectacular and what floors me a little is that in less than three short months one of them will no longer fall into the category "teenager". But that is also, not why I'm here. I thought today, as we end this year 2010, I should post 30 things about myself. I have to be honest, when I saw the "30 things" posts on Facebook I rarely read them. Mostly for the reasons I mentioned before. I can't imagine most people have 30 things that I need to know about them. That statement segues quite well into my first "thing" of 30 that you may not know about me:

1. I don't really like people; I said this a couple of months ago as I sat around a table with some good friends playing games and sharing laughs. One of those friends laughed and said, "you've got to be kidding, you are almost always surrounded by people." I couldn't not agree. Our home is full of children and said children have activities and friends they bring over and I am totally okay with that. And I am friendly, but I am rarely me. The person I am when I am outside my home is the shell of the person I am when I'm here, with my family, and an even thinner shell of the person I am when I'm alone. That person could change the world...if she liked people.

2. I've never watched one single episode of reality television...and I never will.

3. I, not so secretly, think my children are more beautiful, kind and talented than any other kids on the planet. I'm okay with us all agreeing to disagree on this one...but just look at them...they are exceptional.

4. I'm pretty confident that I'm not going to be able to come up with 30 things about me that are unique. I'm not saying that there aren't 30 things. I'm saying that my memory is starting to fail me and I'm pretty sure I won't have the attention span to sit here and come up with 30 interesting things.

5. I love to read. This might not be considered interesting or unique. But it will get me to a higher number before I have to quit.

6. I want people to like me. This might sound silly, because don't we all really wish to be liked? But, I have had a complex since childhood. I've always felt sort of "out of place" and it followed me to through school, where I was a bit of a bully to those deemed "lower on the totem pole" then me because I really wanted to be liked by those higher up. I never really was accepted and I never felt worthy...to the point that it was just a few years ago in my marriage that I actually believed Kevin was in for the long haul. That he actually loved me, for me. Who knew. I am less overbearing now when I like people. I figure if they choose not to like me it is really their loss...as arrogant as that sounds it is true. After 45 plus years on this planet I realized...

7. I'm actually a pretty swell person. I'm not Mother Teresa...but I quote her on Facebook. I try really hard to be a good wife and mother, sibling, daughter and friend. I try not to sweat the small stuff. (I would make a book out of that but I feel like it's been done.)

8. I'm not sure if I really love Jesus. I'm not saying I don't believe in Jesus. I'm just trying to be honest. I love the idea of Jesus. I want to believe that there is a savior that died just for me. And, in theory, I do. I live in such a way that, I believe, Jesus would be pleased with. But, can I say "I love you" to Jesus like I can to my children? I don't think I would be honest if I said yes. But, I'm going to keep trying. Because I believe in eternity and I believe that with all my heart.

9. I had two white mice when I was in 6th grade. Their names were Dorthy and Gertrude after my Grandma's. They were supposed to be a science fair project but I don't really know what I was doing with them that was very scientific. My dad made me keep them in the backroom of the basement where they, one cold night, froze to death.

10. I believe that my children are the most beautiful, talented, extraordinary humans to ever walk the planet. I may have already mentioned this. Here they again though

12. I wish I had gone to college. I LOVE to learn but I don't think this is the reason I wish I had gone to college. I just think the whole experience is a pretty cool one. I want my kids to have it. I want them to feel a part of something like that and I really want them to have "college friends" they get together with until they are old and gray and can't really remember why they are getting together anymore...they just know they've been doing it for so long that it is something they are supposed to do.

13. My favorite numbers are 13 and 21. and the number 11 just bothers me, which is why I left it out...plus also it gets me to number 30 quicker and, honestly, I'm boring myself here...I can't believe you are still reading.

14. I LOVE Christmas and everything it represents...both religious and secular. I love shopping for gifts for my family, I love all the lights and the sounds and the smells. But every year it stresses me out...even when I try not to let it and I'm always thankful when it is over.

15. I have never made a new years resolution. I have more to add to this statement but it is the part I have rehearsed in my mind as the big finish to this post and, since I want to keep you reading I will leave it for the end.

16. I am morbidly obese... It's not something I'm super proud of but the Wii balance board would not lie to me I think. I'm still a skinny person in a fat person's body though. My weight is the one thing I would change about my life. And it's not because I feel ugly, because I don't... well some days when my hair looks bad I feel ugly, but I don't feel ugly because I'm fat. It's because I can't play with my kids the way I want to. It's because I can't run without things bouncing that shouldn't bounce and without my feet hurting and without sweating profusely on a cold winter day...and without having to pee. Also, I would change it because I don't even like leaving my house because clothes are uncomfortable, and clothes are sort of a given if you are going to leave your home. These things all bother me, because I have an adventurers soul and a circus freak's body.

17. I love puzzles of all kinds. I like crossword puzzles, jigsaw puzzles, sudoku, and legos.

18. I'm fairly certain I'm not going to make it to 30 in this list anyway....since I plowed through the age 30 fifteen years ago and left it panting and pleading for mercy.

19. These two little guys make me feel younger every day.

I'm fairly certain I've always been a decent mother. My older kids tell me that I am, and was, a good mommy. But Travis and Bryan are getting the best of me I think. It's not that I've stopped parenting the others, I still do and we have lots of parenting years ahead of us, but I'm more at peace now then I was when they were little. Part of me wishes I could go back and change that but, since that is not an option. I will just carry on and enjoy what I have.

20. Twenty seems like enough

21. I'm going to end with 21 the day I was born in the month of November in the year of our Lord nineteen sixty four; my basketball number back in the day when I was a point guard for the Bulldogs of Otsego High, and the number of years I have been entrenched (seems like a good word), for better or for worse, in marriage with my good friend Kevin D. Barclay.

So, going back to the point where I said I don't make New Year's resolutions...that may only have been a partial truth. At one time I'm sure I made a resolution or two. And, I'm equally certain that I broke them within days, if not mere moments of resolving them. I guess I just don't see the point. Not in resolutions themselves but in the man-made tradition on a man-made appointed time. Why each year? I don't see why a calendar should tell me that it is time to make a promise to be a better person, or treat my loved ones better, or treat myself better (i.e. shoot for only grossly obese). When every single day, nay, every single moment we are given that opportunity. Every single second, of every single hour, of every single day, of every single week...(you get the picture) I can resolve to be a better person than I was the moment before. It doesn't have to be a big deal, it usually isn't. Travis asked me about praying the other day. I don't really remember the question but I do remember saying that I don't really pray. Meaning, rare is the time that I will set aside moments and hit my knees in prayer, although there are days when that is vital. I just have a continual conversation with God...a direct mouth to ear... like the people that walk around town with their bluetooth devices in their ears and look like they are talking to themselves. Only I do it quietly because those people look crazy!

I will celebrate the New Year tonight because it is a tradition and because we have actually been invited somewhere. But, to me, it will always be moments, not years coming and going that are worthy of celebration. Little, irretrievable, nano seconds that will never be lived again. Those I will try to live with all my might.

Happy New Year or should I say Happy New Moment.

unboilng the frog

Everyone has heard the story about the frog that is put in a pot of room temperature water and isn't smart enough to jump out as the heat increases. Eventually the frog boils to death. I've been thinking of that a lot lately. We are in that pot. We've put our kids in that pot. Don't get me wrong, we are "others loving", Jesus following die-hards. We want to be our best for Christ...but sometimes...that other stuff is just so darn fun. I'm not talking about anything too severe. We make sure our kids know they are being held to a higher standard than we had of ourselves at their age. And they are doing a pretty good job of upholding those standards. What I worry about is the things they've been given and the things we do for them.

My eyes have opened wider recently to the "have-nots" in the world. The gap is wide between the haves and have nots and it is getting wider and wider everyday. Just recently we bought a Kinect sensor for our Xbox. It is a new part of a gaming system that is touted for its ability to keep kids active instead of the same old sedentary video games. I like it, we've had a lot of fun with it, tons of family together time and a LOT of laughs. And it does keep the kids more active than say, Madden 11, but probably not as active as poor little "Joe Africa" fighting to find enough food each day to stay alive. See what I mean? The gap is HUGE.

It is hard to not give to my kids. I mean, I didn't really exsist as who I am before them. And, if I'm honest with myself, and sadly, I am brutally honest with myself to the point of tears often, I don't really exist outside of them. Jackie Kennedy said something (and I would quote but I'm too lazy to look it up so you'll have to be tolerant of my paraphrase) If we mess up on raising our kids, nothing else we do really matters. I pretty much take that to heart.

So I really want to raise kids with an awareness of the "have-nots". I want them to feel truly blessed with what they have and not entitled. I want to reverse the boil on the pot o' frog. But, the catchy part here, is maintaining my credibility. Learning to not want more than I need myself. That is tough...there is a lot of cool stuff out there. But, I can do without a lot of things...it is harder to withhold something from someone you love, enough to die for, a thing that you know would make them smile. But for how long? Until the next thing that everyone else is getting makes them feel less smiley about the thing you just got them. The fire under the pot is getting higher and hotter.

It is November 22, Yesterday I turned 46. It was a strange day. I often think a lot. Sometimes I don't care for it. When you have stream of conciousness thought with no scheduled stops, a lot of crazy things can go through your head. But yesterday I mostly thought about how my birthday was "no big deal". And when I say "no big deal" I don't mean..."I really want to say it's no big deal but I want people to shower me with attention and then I want to pout profusely when it doesn't happen."

I guess I really think a birthday of my own is no big deal. I mean...I didn't do anything special on that first day (November 21, 1964). I know for a fact that I spit up an entire bottle of formula on the woman that had just carried me for nine months and then gave birth to all 9 plus pounds of me (I'm spitballing here...spitballing...HA...I crack myself up with my unintentional irony. But, I really don't know how much I weighed). This is the only birth story I know for myself. That and that I was born in the middle of a pretty heavy snowstorm.

I think the first 26 years of my life were just another incubation process. I was truly born March 19, 1991, then again just shy of two years later on January 10th, 1993 again on May 4, 1994, January 11th, 1996, November 3rd, 1999 and for the final time on August 8th, 2002. It might sound corny but I just know what I was born to be. And I was just marking time until then. Everything about being a mom to six of the best kids on the planet has made me want to be better at everything else I try.

Including being a better wife. Who wouldn't love this guy?

For those of you who think I'm taking on a Pollyanna view to motherhood or that I've somehow truly latched on to the only six perfect children in the universe, please let me share. By about 4:00 yesterday I just wanted them all to go away. Too much togetherness is not good. They were crabby, which was making mama crabby and you know how the saying goes. "If mama ain't happy...ain't nobody happy". But truly that is an unfair saying, because most mothers know that we will gladly sacrifice our happiness, our spot on the couch, our last piece of birthday cake kindly delievered by a neighbor...to make our offspring happy.

So, I also think my kids have made me a better follower of Jesus. Because I get it...I understand what it feels like to care enough to sacrifice whatever needs to be sacrificed. To feel that what is best for them is what's best in general. To love them enough to die for them.

I know that God is our Father because the Bible tells us so. And I mean no disprespect to fathers. I know Kevin would lay down his life in a second for any one of our kids. But I really think of motherly love when I think of God. Because I get it. It's not about me, it was never about me. And someday, I pray that each one of my kids feels the same way about their birthday...

brief musings from November, brought to you by; the month of October.

It is the 17th of November. I have checked my last post...it was the 18th of October...ya'll probably think I have had nothing happen in the past 30 days. Or perhaps..."ya'll" haven't been thinking about me at all. That is too crushing to even imagine so I will pretend that you have been waiting with bated breath (I don't really know what that means...it sounds like a periodontal issue) but at any rate...pull up a toothbrush and some Listerine because I HAVE been doing stuff and now I'm going to write it all down for you to read...plus...I will add pictures for those of you who feel words are overrated.

When last we spoke, Kevin and I were about to celebrate our 21st wedding anniversary. We did that. I celebrated at a JV football game in the general northwest area of Jackson county. Kevin celebrated at Gallagher park, coaching Travis' U-11 soccer team.

Cole is number 83, just in case you were wondering. I don't have a picture of Kevin coaching that night so you will just have to imagine it. The football game ended in a loss but also ended the season. Since that time Cole has waffled back and forth about playing football next year. He really wants to play the games. Especially since next year his best friend will likely be on the team also. He thinks football is fun. He thinks football coaches who think football is "life" ruin the game for him. This is true of so many sports. It's high school folks...simmer down:-)

Our next fun event was Kevin getting horribly ill for like two weeks...okay I lied...that was not fun. But when a 45 year old man pretends he is still as he was in his twenties and can do crazy things like drive from Erie, PA to Lansing, MI to surprise a girl (yes I love this man!) and home again in the same 20 hour period, something is bound to give. He didn't do the former this time however. He just worked too many hours trying to be his own version of "SuperKev" and wound up flat on his back with a virus for two weeks. Through this whole thing I was spectacular (if I do say so myself) and took good care of him even though it is not in my nature to care for anyone other than my children when they are sick. He doesn't ask for much...we are made for each other.

During the "time of sickness" we had a couple other things happen. The first would be the worst holiday known to man (other than sweetest day...which I won't even capitalize because I am a rebel)...Halloween...what a stupid thing. The kids like it though so I try to play along. This year was nice because my nephew Big Al and his girlfriend Kaylee wanted to carve pumpkins with Travis and Bryan so I did not have to.


For the joyous evening itself we were joined by our friend the"Frenchies" to eat hotdogs and trick or treat.


I've found recently that I get so frustrated at how long it takes my pictures to load on photobucket that when I get about halfway through a blog post I quit because it is taking forever. I have reached that point right now...so instead of quitting and denying all of "ya'll" the joy of reading my musings. I will pretend I was done right here. It seems like a good place to be done don't you agree...on the 31st of October? Before the joyous month of November starts (my favorite month of the year)

Stayed tuned though...in the upcoming month we celebrate the day of Travis (which others would call a birthday) and some other random stuff that we do, that previously, before the days of the WWW (that is World Wide Web) would have remained private. But, now, joy of joys, our world can be shared with others! In words and pixels.
Blessings to you all...now go do something more useful than this with your day.
The End.

Sometime this week (Thursday to be precise) I will celebrate my 21st wedding anniversary (ironically, so will Kevin). I think it's odd that, in my brain, I still haven't been alive long enough to be celebrating 21 years of anything. But, the body reads differently. The body says, "girrrrlll, you are olllldddd!". I often use the words "shut up" to my body.

This was us shortly after we met in June of 1987. I was working the mullet for all it was worth. About six months after we met we surprised ourselves by realizing we might be in something akin to "love". The next year was a blur of moving and living on our own in faraway places like Stockton, California, Austin, Tx and Rutherfordton, N.C.

In October of 1988, in a hotel room in San Francisco, California, Kevin asked for my hand in marriage. I told him he could have all of me. He didn't realize what that would mean in the future when there would be so much more of me to love.

The day we initially set up for our date was a year later October 14th, 1989...for some reason that didn't work out with the church schedule so we settled on October 21st, 1989. This also happened to be Sweetest Day. Touching, I know.

Since I am a history buff, I thought it would be fun to look up what was going on in October of 1989. I vaguely remembered an earthquake (yes, vaguely...I was getting married for goodness sake) Sure enough the Loma Prieta earthquake (also known as the World Series Earthquake due to the fact that the World Series between the Oakland A's and the San Francisco Giants was being played. This earthquake was the first American earthquake to have its initial tremors witnessed on live television as the teams were warming up on the field at the time) struck at 5:04 PM on October 17th. It measured 7.1 on the Richter Scale and killed 67 or 63 (depending on which conflicting Wikipedia report to believe) people and delayed the World Series for ten days. I do distinctly remember the Bay Bridge collapsed on itself. Only a year before I had driven across that bridge myself a couple of times when we lived in Stockton. I'm not a fan of driving across bridges so the fact that one I had been on, collapsed on itself was, to say the least, unnerving.

For those of you who (whom?) are enjoying this beautiful fall weather we are having, I will tell you that, twenty one years ago tomorrow we received several inches of snow. It was beautiful really, big, fat, heavy, wet snowflakes that decorated the world in a way that I love. Two days later the sun was shining and it was in the 60's again. I live in Michigan because it is as unpredictable as I am.

I don't remember much about my wedding and less about my reception, and no, I wasn't drinking. It was just a long time ago. I know we have a fun story that is actually clean enough for public regaling. But, it is one of Kevin's favorites so you'll just have to wait until he gets a blog (HA). Just suffice to say that if ONE person gets out of a hot tub to turn on the jets...the water level goes down considerably and the jets may only be partially covered.

We honeymooned in Jamaica. We dove off a cliff into water so clear you could see the bottom...it didn't really seem to be safe to jump, but we did...kind of metaphoric (I love me a good metaphor) of marriage in general. This world shows us so clearly what a bad marriage looks like. We rarely get to view the good ones because it just isn't an interesting story. But, even knowing that it could go badly, we jumped into marriage...barely knowing each other honestly. Because, loving someone is nothing like living with someone...sharing the good and the bad, the ups and the downs and promising not to walk away even though sometimes the person you love most in the world is also the person whom you hurt or are hurt by the most. Also, while on our honeymoon, we ate goat meat. There is not metaphor for that. It was nasty. I got so excited one morning to see a box of Fruit Loops straight from the cereal city on the buffet. I tore into those babies with the energy of someone who had been fed goat meat for four straight days, only to find them stale. What a disappointment. I guess there is a metaphor there. The outside does not always keep its promises.

So 21 years, if you go by what my kids say, this is our "golden" anniversary. After all a "golden birthday" is when you turn the age of your birth date. So we celebrate 21 years on the 21st. Also, 21 is my favorite number. Am I too old to have a favorite number?...perhaps...but I'm also too old to laugh every time I hear the word "duty" but I still do.

Our marriage has not been without it's challenges but I am always a bit befuddled when someone talks about marriage being tough. I think being married is the best thing ever, and if I'm being honest, my marriage saved my life. It also gave me this...

And lots of other good things like a friend that has to hang out with me whether he wants to or not. And someone to refer my kids to when I don't feel like dealing with whatever they're whining about (i.e. "I'm sure your dad would love to help you with that situation".) And someone to laugh with when our kids say ridiculous things

(i.e. "you guys just don't understand how tough my life is") I like being married a lot. I think I specifically like being married to Kevin a lot.

It feels like just yesterday we got married but it also feels like a lifetime ago...six lifetimes ago to be more precise. I wonder if the people in San Francisco and Oakland feel the same way...?

By the way. I read the whole Wikipedia entry on the year 1989 and though you might also find this interesting.

Jan 24th, 1989 (which happened to be Kevin's "golden birthday") was the day that serial killer Ted Bundy was executed. This is what my beloved, soon-to-be husband looked like on that day. We were living in Austin, Texas.

Also on July 31st, 1989, Nintendo released the first Game Boy. In August, on the 20th, the Menendez brothers killed their parents (probably developed "violent tendencies" from too many hand held video games). And, in November, the East and West Germans began tearing down the Berlin wall. Also sometime in the year the last Golden Toad was seen, they are now extinct. I accept no blame for this. I was young and in love and I'm pretty sure the only thing we killed that year was the goat our bus driver mowed down on our honeymoon. And I feel like I've made amends with the goat population.

Pardon me...I've been busy...

I'm not complaining! I LOVE my life...but it is a busy one. So I'm not just making excuses...except a little bit I am...is it an "excuse" if it is true? Apparently our local high school does not think so as they no longer allow for "excused absences" for illness or "the like". But, this would be a digression in what I intended to talk about and, since I know you are all excited for me to get to the meat of the blog I will not digress. I've been busy...enough said.

A lot of people are flabbergasted by our choice to homeschool our children. (I'm not sure if they are actually "flabbergasted" but isn't that a delightful word?) I've heard everything from. "If I homeschooled ____ (insert child's name here) I would kill him/her". Which we know is likely not true...because those with true homicidal tendencies rarely announce them. If Jeffrey Dahmer would have said to each that came to his door..."if you come in I will likely kill and eat you", his killing spree would have come to an end much sooner. I'm getting off track again. I don't really think any competent mother would kill their child if they had to educate them. But, I do understand what they are saying. Because, even as I type this paragraph about how much I love having my children home, I am secretly wishing they would go away and quit asking me questions so I could concentrate on what I'm doing...which is writing about how much I love them being near me. Irony? I'd say definitely. I've also heard, "I'm not qualified to home school". Well, anyone is really...who taught your child to walk, talk and tie their shoes (okay, so Bryan can't tie his shoes yet, but we're working on it) The point is, I'm NOT qualified to teach a classroom of thirty children with thirty different learning styles. But, with time, attention and love I can teach my one child what he/she needs to know. And, when we're together all day there is plenty of all those to go around.

But, as in any blessed life, the good outweighs the bad (except in my body where I simply outweigh things I wish I didn't). I LOVE having my two youngest sons home each day. I love that we get out of bed when we want instead of me (crabby, which I would be) pulling them out of their covers each morning while it is still dark outside. I love that they can ask me any question they want (including but not limited to: Is blood considered a liquid? Why does Peppermint Patty talk like a man? And, If you dropped a cat from here would it die?) I love that they can go to the bathroom whenever they need to (and because they are boys...almost wherever they need to...but that is just a plumbing thing...not a home schooling thing). I love that our learning is not all done in front of a text book...because really, life has no text books and learning needs to be done on the go!

This is what I mean...this is how boys learn. This picture just makes me smile! Plus the colors are awesome. I somehow made it smaller than I wanted to when I transferred it and I can't get it bigger...so please imagine it bigger because that is how it was intended. And that is metaphoric really. The world is my sons' textbook and the world is HUGE...like I wanted the picture to be. It is also metaphoric because we don't always get what we want. I would like my older children to still be home with me. I would like to educate them as well. But, they want to play sports, they want to see their friends everyday, they want to go to the Prom. And, I'm okay with it because they have a base that we built for them. They know high school is a manufactured reality that is nothing like the "real world" they hear so much about from the grown-ups that surround them each day. They know that God doesn't grade on a curve or straight scale and that God is the only one that is truly qualified to grade them at all. They know that even if they "bomb" in chemistry or geography that, when it comes time, they will learn what they need to know for their career of choice and they will excel because they have been taught to do whatever they do as though they were working for God and not for man. I'm not suggesting that they will be perfect...I'm just suggesting that they have been told. What they choose to do with that information remains in their control. Parenting is a crap shoot for sure. Which brings us full circle to why I home school. Parenting IS a crapshoot and anyone who gambles knows that the more time you spend at the craps table the more you are likely to walk away with a win now and then. Okay...that is a crappy metaphor (ha ha..."crappy" I didn't even mean to do that...I'm punny even when I'm not intending to be). What I'm saying...is I've invested in the crapshoot and I'm not going to walk away from table while I still have a chance to rub the dice, blow on them for luck and roll away.

I can touch "crazy"

I can touch "crazy". I dance around it's edges. I have all my life. I'm not talking "Ted Bundy crazy". Nor Sylvia Plath (is that the name of someone who killed themselves?). Even in my darkest moments I've never thought life to be not worth living. Quite the opposite, I've always thought it would be a shame to not see what the next moment holds.

When I was younger I lived in a fantasy world. If I had lived in the world of today's children I would have been diagnosed with ADHD and put on some type of medication. That might have been okay. But, I tell my kids all the time that I don't think I would want to change my past if it meant a different outcome of my present. I can't see a way of changing my past to bring me to the present I currently have. And I'm a super big fan of the present I currently have.

Now I am on medication. Just a small dose of something that takes the edge off the high's and low's. But, sometimes I forget to refill the medication...and I think sometimes I do it on purpose, because the first thing a day without Cymbalta does is allows me to feel everything. Notice how I wrote everything in purple? Because, that is kind of what it feels like...purple. After a few hours of purple though, it heads into this muddy greenish-brown that is neither pretty nor inviting to live with. So I have to be careful. I only want to dance around the edges of crazy. I don't want to dive all the way in.

This is me on my honeymoon...back when I was sexy on the outside too:-)

Tripping down memory lane

Today I decided to take my homeschool geeks to the Allegan County Fair. The ACF (as I will now call it) is my "hometown fair" as I was born and raised in beautiful Otsego, Michigan which is nestled comfortably in Allegan County. We left the house around 9:40 AM (not bad for us, we are not morning people. We stopped a mere three times during the one and a half hour drive. Once for money, once to pee, and once for snacks.

Our first stop was in the "Historical Village" inside the fair grounds. This was a deliberate attempt to make a trip to a county fair a "field trip". I think it was a successful attempt because I must have heard, "when will we be done." and "this is boring" forty times per child.


Above the boys are modeling some of the props in the one room school house. Bryan was later told not to touch the pointer that Travis is holding in this photo. I think they need to know that, if you don't want a boy to touch it...you dang well better nail it down!

I thought the church was interesting because it had, at one time, been a Free Methodist Church. And most recently I have begun to consider myself a Free Methodist. Only in the loosest terms I guess. I don't pay for a pew seat and I can be methodical. Mostly, I just try to love Jesus and others to the best of my ability. But, I like the people, the preacher(and his wife) and the music at the Free Methodist church in my little burg. So I will call myself a Free Methodist and be okay with that.

After the Historical Village we took a stroll through all the animal barns. The boys determined that roosters and rabbits smell, sheep are pretty boring and if you've seen one cow, you've pretty much seen them all. They were not thrilled with the idea that many of these animals were being sold for slaughter...didn't stop Travis from eating 2 bacon cheeseburgers later in the day. I They did enjoy the baby animal barn where they made friends with this little guy here. I wanted to take him home as a pet but Travis said, "mom, it won't stay little and cute forever." And I said, "this is true...consider all of you kids!" So the goat did NOT come home with us.


We walked through another barn and found these, "DR FART" things. I'm not even sure what they were but I'm certain that if I would have been willing to plop down the money for them they would have provided endless hours of pleasure for my two young chargers. I mean, just the word "fart" can produce giggles...imagine the fun to be had making actual fart noises. It was just too much to process.

After we walked through all the barns we still had a half hour to kill before the midway rides and games opened up. Fortunately, a friend, Jacque came to our rescue. She and her husband work at the fair with the Mounted Police Division. She found us and gave us a "behind the scenes" tour of the fairgrounds on a souped up golf cart. It was likely the best ride of the day.

After our ride around the grounds, Jacque dropped us off on the midway. The boys were excited to ride some rides and since it was dollar day I didn't have to say no or put much of a limit on them. I even bought a few tickets for myself since I can remember loving fair rides when I was a kid. The first ride they went on was called Vertigo. They were strapped somewhat loosely into over-sized swings, raised about a billion feet (I might be exaggerating) into the air and hurtled around in circles.


The next ride I decided to keep them closer to the ground so I went with them on one of my old favorites the Himalaya. Wow, am I old! It was horrible. My neck whipped around and my knee ground into the big metal bar holding us in. I wanted nothing more than for the silly ride to end. Unfortunately, Bryan was still too short to go on several of the rides without me accompanying him...so I was in for more fun. My favorite part of the midway was a comfortable little spot in the shade next to the harmless, slow moving, close to the ground, non hurtle producing...bumper cars.

While they were on some spinning, twirling, death machine I talked to one of the "carnies" nearby who was hosting a game. I asked him how much it cost and what they had to do to win. He said, "everyone wins, if you pay $3.00 you get to pick a small prize, if you pay $5.00 you get to pick a big prize." I liked those odds. So when the boys came off the ride I delighted them with the news that they would, after all, be allowed to play "one of these ridiculously expensive games." They both showed their brute strength by ringing a bell and walking off with $6.00 worth of stuff that would have only cost a buck at the dollar store...the Fair:-)

On our way back home we stopped to visit G-ma and G-pa. Grandpa bought Wendy's burgers and Ben joined us to chat about the mindless things the little boys like to chat about when they have someone's "undivided" attention. They also gave Grandma a hug to help her heal after knee replacement surgery and we then proceeded to drive back to the Arbor.

There were definitely lessons learned today but they may have all been mine.

This past week has been a week of changes. We started by changing that tire on the van and it has just been all over the charts since then. Monday, Kevin and I, along with our faithful sidekicks Travis and Bryan, drove back down to Huntington to watch another soccer game (I guess I shouldn't say watch another soccer game, since we never quite made it to the game on Saturday. But, I already said it, and it makes far more sense to just keep typing then to erase what is already here...in permanent pixels. Huntington won again, this time on a PK, shot and scored by my darling daughter Samantha L. Barclay. When I saw that coach was having her take the shot, I threw up in my mouth a little. But, I can't recall ever seeing her miss one (although I'm sure she has...maybe not...I guess I can't really recall her ever missing) Anyway, that just seems like excessive bragging but, what the heck...it is my blog...no one is making you read it for goodness sake. So, at any rate, she took the shot and made it. Travis was standing behind the net when she shot. He was very excited. He ran up to us yelling, "she totally sold it, she faked right and went left.".


Here she is with the ref (we labeled the ref a shim because we were just unsure) and then taking the shot.

After the game we went out to dinner at Applebees. I ate something new, which I will not recommend because, while the ravioli itself was scrumptious, it was covered with nasty things like mushrooms, onions and red peppers which made the delectable stuff too hard to get to. I like dinner to be an anerobic event.

Tuesday was the day to start school For my older three (who still live at home...that would be Erin, Abby and Cole...I know, it confuses me sometimes too) that meant getting up at the butt crack of dawn. This is what that looked like...

It's never pretty...But they clean up nice and they are willing to stand in front of the one pathetic little tree in our front yard and let me take their picture.




This is Erin, she's a senior in high school this year, although she wants nothing to do with it. She is completely ready to move on with her life. I think, regardless of her likely protestions (is that a word...it sounds dirty) anyway, I think what she will like most about college is the potential for blocks of time where she can nap. The kid was impossible to get to sleep when she was a toddler but, she is making up for it now.

This is my Abba Do. On the night before the first day of school, at a time nearing midnight, Abby colored her hair. She was going for dark brown and got black. Moments of drama ensued. Who does this? Only Abby, and that is one of the many reasons I love her. So she started her junior year with black hair...moving on.

One of the things I truly love about my first born boy Coley Woley Henry Barclay is he has an awesome "fake smile for photos" you know how I know this? Because you are seeing it in this picture. There was nothing even remotely worth smiling about for him at this particular moment...except of course because his mom asked him to. I find that endearing. His actual comment this morning of his first day of high school was, "Everybody always looks happy in their first day of school pictures because their moms actually get up with them before school". There are several things about this statement that need to be addressed 1: It is touching, but a little sad, 2: I hope he never realizes that most mothers actually do get up with their children. and 3: I can't remember a third thing but it would have looked odd with only two things.
More irony as I ask them to kiss their baby brother. Abby, who often is in a "hate-hate" relationship with Cole, goes for actual contact. While Erin, who seems to be Cole's hand's down favorite most of the time, goes for the European "air kiss". Life is unpredictable at best!

So, about two hours after the ridiculously early photo shoot for my high schoolers, my homeschool "geeks" are up and in action. This picture pretty much sums up the essence of our homeschool environment. Learn by living with a little bit of book work thrown in. In the above picture they are working on their...aw heck...even I can't make something out of this. They were just having fun! And why not?...they are LITTLE BOYS they were built for fun:-)

Later in the day we went on a "field trip" to Lansing with the Chili's. After a stops at the Christian Book Store, Hobby Lobby and Coldstone Creamery we headed to Preuss Pets where I saw a rat sleeping like this...

I can completely empathize with this little dude. (or dudette...I did not ask).



While this might seem like it's not a very good picture I thought it was worth posting. You see, this is a tarantula and, according to Urban Legend (the girl at Quizno's told me...she had piercings in unusual places so I consider her urban), it is the size of Travis' head. So anyway, the equally pierced employee of Preuss Pets allowed me to take pictures of this allegedly "head- sized" tarantula but the camera would only focus on the dirt scattered on the surface of the cage. Does anyone see the life metaphor here? How often do we focus on the dirty exterior and never take the time to get to see the beauty inside. Of course, sometimes the "beauty" ends up being a big nasty spider...but it's always worth the chance. Because, you see, we also learned more facts about tarantulas that day. The pierced employee, whom I shall from here on out call Pierce, (although he had a name tag on and his name was Michael. I think Pierce is more fun for this story.) Anyway, Pierce told us that tarantulas are not spiders, they are arachnids (I thought that was the same thing but, what do I know). He also told us that they weren't poisonous and to prove it he held one (not the head sized one) and let it crawl all over him. You might be saying to yourself, "but clearly he isn't afraid of extra holes in his body." But I think if it were a venemous hole he would be concerned. Travis asked Pierce why everyone thought tarantulas were so dangereous and Pierce's reply was "because Hollywood sucks". I think this is also a life lesson that everyone needs to learn. So day one of homeschooling produced at least three great life lessons. Don't focus on the exterior, Tarantulas are not poisonous (the jury is still out on this one) and Hollywood Sucks.

Onward... Wednesday included another trip to Huntington with my "little guys" to watch big sis play soccer. It was a beautiful day for soccer and a great game. Samantha scored another goal...although clearly that is not what she is doing in this picture as in this one she is kicking it right at the keeper. I have told her not to do that. Soccer is such an easy sport from the sidelines. I put the other picture of her in there because I just think that is darned impressive.

Feel free to be amazed by her. I am!

Thursday night was JV football at WHS. While Cole is not a huge fan of football practice he does come alive a bit for games. In this particular game he got a solo tackle. Unfortunately, he did not get credit for a solo tackle by the announcer. But I caught in on "film" (in pixels?) for all the world (or just the five readers of my blog) to see.

Cole is the tough looking guy staring the runner down, then he raps him up while that other guy taps on his helmet to tell him, "good job buddy, you go" (at least this is how I imagine it going down) and then, in his delight and enthusiasm he bear hugs Cole! YEAH FOOTBALL! Not sure what the two guys on the ground are doing but, if I were their mothers' I would be embarrassed for them:-) (I'm joking in case those mothers read this..all in fun you know...if you can't take the joke then stay out of the blog).

Another Western JV victory and the team sings the fight song in the end zone. Cole says he sings...I'd like to hear that:-)
Just bringing this little guy back in the picture to sum up the week...sweet dreams and blessing,
JAB