School's In Blues

As the big school machine cranks up another year, most moms are walking around with a secret smile on their face. With the kids back in school, they now have a bit of time reclaimed to do whatever moms with kids in school do. As a homeschooling mom, this time of year marks the time when I feel most insecure about educating my son at home.

Don’t get me wrong, some days are a total wonder. The gorgeous afternoons with a true North Carolina blue sky where we sit and do nature studies by the lake. The captivating days when we can visit a museum and recite in detail the most important event leading up the Civil War to the tour guide. The best is when someone quizzes him on some rare detail that they are sure no homeschooler would ever know – like the capitol of Gambia. He beams “Banjul” and asks “did you know that it is the smallest country in Africa?” Those are the kind of days that make momma proud.

But then there are the days when I discover he doesn’t know how to spell the word “doctor.” Yes, it’s true. Even worse are when I am checking over his papers to find sentences beginning without capital letters or ending with periods. Then come the days when he forgets how to do long division. Again. The days when math makes us cry (just a little) and it’s only 9 a.m.  I’m sure these types of mental blips happen for public and homeschool kids alike. At least I’m praying they do.

As we begin the 6^th grade this year, the fact that he is beginning middle school is one that I do not take lightly. The pressure is on for me. I can’t afford to screw this one up. Sometimes I wonder if I am doing my son any favors by serving as his chief educator. But mostly I feel grateful that I am not missing out on his days. I am thankful that I get to pour into him as much as I possibly can, while I can.

Ironically, it was a pair of dirty tennis shoes that helped me reconcile my feelings. As I was hand washing my sneakers, I thought hand washing something was like homeschooling. Traditional schooling was like putting your clothes in a washing machine. Were the hand washed things cleaner than the machine? Probably not. Did both things get clean? Absolutely. The end result was the same.

For now, homeschooling is our map for the year ahead. With a deep breath, a lot of prayer and effort, we focus on one day at a time. I know my son’s education may not always be homeschooling. I know there will always be holes in his learning, even in a traditional school. Yet, for this season, I will do all I can to pour into him the very best way I can imagine. I know the most important thing is to love him through the journey, even if he doesn’t know how to spell doctor.

Summer Wishing

It's summer, quick make a wish! Or better yet, get your family together and capture all your wishes. You know how it goes -- summer feels like it's going to stretch out forever like a long luxurious slip and slide on a hot day. Then before you know it, it will be the Fourth of July and then we'll be shopping for school supplies and then game over.

My favorite thing to do about now is to make the summer "wish list" of all the things that I can't wait to do. Usually it starts out really grand with big adventures like white water rafting or road tripping to far flung undiscovered beaches. Lovely, right? Next the jungle heat kicks in, then I somehow forget about my ambitious list and resort to more hammock-like activities.

This year, I made my wish list artsy by laying out pieces of sparkly paper and funky markers for the whole family to add their ideas. It became kind of a note "tag" where everyone could post things as they walked by, along with funny little drawings to go with their wishes.

Here are a few of our wishes: play Yahtzee, go to a Durham Bulls game, sit on the dock, go "real" rock climbing, read The Hobbit, swing in a hammock, go swimming beneath a waterfall, stargaze, discover a new hiking path and camp out.

Speaking of camping out -- June 23 is the Great American Backyard Campout weekend. It's a perfect time to get outside with a good ole fashioned back yard camp out. 

Whatever summer holds, my wish is that it would be a summer to remember. Because as my son grows, I know that summers spent wishing are numbered. I don't want to miss a single moment. I hope you won't either.

For more details and ideas on the Great American Backyard Campout, check out the National Wildlife Federation site:

http://www.nwf.org/Get-Outside/Great-American-Backyard-Campout.aspx

The Gift of Vuvuzelas

Don't you love it when you find something pure, true and authentic?

Maybe I'm in a place where I am feeling less than authentic about things. Not that I'm being fake, I'm only feeling smiley on the outside and not so much on the inside. Lately I had been feeling weary in spirit.

That's why reading the book "One Thousand Gifts" by Ann Voskamp has been a little like shaking the snowglobe inside of me sort of experience. I am treasuring the texture of her words, the completely naked style writing of raw truth and emotion. It's wild and I love it.

What is even more fun is the free app that you can download. It is a really fun place to document "your gifts" of wonder in your life. At first I thought it was weird, like one of those sugary gratitude journal sort of things. But the more I started documenting my "gifts" the more I couldn't wait to add more.

The app allows you to take a little picture or add an image and then some text about what your gift is that you are grateful for today. Yesterday my "gift" of the day was vuvuzelas. My son recently won it this weekend at an art festival and hasn't stopped blowing it at random times. It's hilarious. He loves to hear how it sounds when it echoes through our backyard or from the cul-de-sac or even from his window. It's almost like a poke in the shoulder that says "hey! wake up, life is happening!" I can't help but smile every time he does it.

More than anything, it's been a gift to me to be reminded that everything is a gift. Even vuvuzelas.

Warrior Me?

This weekend I get to be a warrior. Not just what they call "weekend warriors" the ones that go to Home Depot and paint their decks or remodel something. I get to be the kind that wears a furry helmet and horns, a la Viking style. Yes, and run a 5k while scaling rope walls, climbing through mud pits, crawling under barbed wire and such. Did I mention jumping over fire? 

Here's what I will look like if you need a visual...

You think I'm kidding but I'm not. Some friend of mine (who shall not be named but who I'm thinking of doing voo-doo on right now) thought it would be "super fun!" Right about now, I'd like to smack her for ever thinking this was a good idea. 

Yes, it's true. I'm participating in the NC Warrior Dash on Saturday. It is a great cause for St. Jude Children's Hospital and pediatric cancer research. Please pray that I live to tell the story!

Wouldn't you like to be a Warrior too? If you've ever wanted to be a Warrior, check it out here.

http://warriordash.com/register2012_north_carolina.php

Sandwiched

Sandwiches are only fun at picnics.

Not as much fun when they become the bucket you fall into as the “sandwich” generation – caring for your own children while caring for your parents. That’s me.

I’m not sure how I ended up becoming the caregiver for my mom. It became the next obvious thing to do. Sort of like picking up a coat off the floor and hanging it up, my mom coming to live in North Carolina in a senior community felt like the right thing to do.

“You get mom,” said my sister, “I get dad.” We joked together about how each of us had been given one parent to care for, as we constantly compare notes on how to encourage each other. We talk weekly on the latest funny story or how our parents have become like another child to care for while home and hearthing our own family.

On top of the child-rearing issues, I get to learn about things like walker maintenance, Medicare, Social Security, what to do when your teeth fall out and how many doctors you can possibly see in a year.

I hope this doesn’t sound like whining. Being my mom’s “it” girl has been a huge blessing for our family. My son spends time weekly with his grandmother. We cook together and spend lots of time simply doing life. I am fortunate because my mom is fairly healthy, right now. Still, I worry about what is down the road on my sandwich.

For the moment, this sort of sandwich is all I have. I watch my mom teach my son how to make “toast treasures.” Slicing up the bread in tiny thin strips the way she used to do only when I was sick or sad as a child. My son watches in awe, sure that he is witnessing something life changing.

And he is.

PS. To read more about my story as a family caregiver, check out my excerpt in the recently released book “Chicken Soup for the Soul for Family Caregivers.” The book features 101 stories of love, sacrifice and bonding from people of all ages who take care of family members at home or in outside facilities. This book is filled with great practical advice for anyone facing the important task of caring for a loved one in their golden years. Find it on amazon.com or wherever you buy books.

Amateur Rocket Scientist

Lately I have been channeling my inner scientist.

Somehow I thought signing up for the North Carolina Science Olympiad was a good idea. I thought, "Hey, we'll launch rockets, we'll learn new things, it will be awesome." And it is. I'm just learning that I'm really not a very good rocket scientist.

But apparently that doesn't seem to matter. For the last six weeks we have been blowing up 2 liter bottles in our back yard by filling them with water and pumping them up with air by way of a bicycle tire pump until they launch. Genius, right? I'm even able to say things like "Hey kids, we just used Newton's Third Law of Motion!" (that's for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction for those who need a reminder.)

Like moths to a flame, every kid, grown up and neighborhood dog is drawn to our rocketry afternoons. Pretty soon everyone wants to take a turn at building their own rocket, pumping it up and vying for the most coveted job, pulling the launcher string.

Are we learning anything other than how much PSI it takes to blow a 2 liter bottle sky high? Not sure. Are we furthering the love of science? Probably. But the coolest lesson we have learned is to see how much we can fail miserably at something and have a total blast.

That part makes it worth it. Science for me as a kid was the most boring thing imaginable. I can remember my 8th grade teacher drawing circle after circle on the chalkboard as he talked about molecules. Or even better was reading mountains of textbooks, while cramming hundreds of science terms in my head. I even remember studying Newton's Laws.

The truth is science is super cool if it's done in a memorable way. My guess is that my son will definitely remember Newton's Third Law forever -- with some great stories of blowing things up in his back yard. For all this, my attempts at amateur rocket scientist are time well spent. If nothing more than to revel in the jubilation of a bunch of kids celebrating the awesome beauty of a 2 liter reaching the treetops.

PS. If you want to learn more about NC Science Olympiad, volunteering or just coming out to watch the events, visit www.sciencenc.com.

Gentleman In Training

When it comes to manners, I am old school.

I keep hoping for the day that I don't have to begin dinner with "napkin in your lapkin" or end dinner with "where does your plate go?"

These basic courtesies were literally drilled into my brain growing up about the constant importance of good graces. Is it wrong or dated to expect them in my 10 year old son?

This year, we have begun the book "50 Things Ever Young Gentleman Should Know" by John Bridges and Bryan Curtis. (there is also the girl version for young lady too). I have to say it is a hilarious read and a perfect tone for tween boys.

Here's a few examples:

On sports...

"A gentleman does not throw a fit when a call does not goes his way or when he loses."

On apologies...

"A gentleman who has offended another person says, 'I'm sorry.'"

My fav on hygiene...

"A gentleman puts on a clean shirt instead of smelling the armpits of a shirt to see if can wear it again."

It would be easy to blame technology or the media for ruining our kids, or the fact that this generation is different and doesn't understand the importance of good manners. I will set all that aside and be persistent anyways. Manners are important and tell a lot about the kind of character our kids have. Even if I have to say "napkin in the lapkin" for 365 days straight, one day I know he will get it.

And I know that day, Emily Post will smile. So will I.