Why I Homeschool
So many reasons of course, but the reason that tipped me over the edge is something I haven’t mentioned for a long time. A commenter over at Legal Insurrection explains perfectly:
“I did not plan to home school. . . . But among innumerable problems and eye-opening irritants, what put us over were the constant parental ‘involvement’ demands, ‘homework’ etc., intrusively dictating and co-opting many hours of family and parental time each day.”
Yes, yes, yes.
Last year, it felt like the precious hours of my days were constantly held at the mercy of a young, inexperienced single lady known as The Third Grade Teacher. Because they were.
The volume of homework was sometimes quite burdensome. Hours of constructing models and insane crafty things, like the clothes hanger book report (don’t ask). Then, there was the mandatory 20 minutes of daily reading. And don’t forget to sign the Reading Journal every day, Mom, or your kid will lose ten minutes of PE! Oh, your son must be the one to fill out the title and number of pages read. Just a little reminder, because I can tell it’s your handwriting lately.
I would think to myself: why am I sending this child to school all day? It would be easier if I just kept him and taught him myself.
I battled the entire year long with ever-growing feelings of irritation and hostility. At some point I realized it wasn’t just because of personality differences.
I was chafing under the yoke. This woman . . . this school . . . the whole educational institution had the power to control hours upon hours of personal family time, each and every week. They had absolutely no right to dictate what we did with our own time, in our own home.
And yet, they did.
Tougher still was the fact that most other parents didn’t chafe like I did. Why don’t they care? Why don’t they notice? Maddening.
Oh, and have I ever mentioned? I really, really hate doing crafts. I much prefer making a dirt mountain in the back yard and using the hose to simulate the effects of flooding. Or making Ziploc baggies explode, that was a blast.
I wanted to share that Legal Insurrection comment with you all for another reason. He (She?) did more than just echo my sentiments. He gave me a jolt of excitement by opening my eyes to future possibilities:
“So we yanked them out of the public elementary school, still a little nervous, but figuring that down the road we’d place them into a fancy private high school. No need. They started college at age 15.”
Uh, yes please. I’d like some of that.
Birthdays and Groundhog Days
I’m just not a good juggler. The homeschooling has been going better, but the blogging has suffered. Even when the absence is long, please know that I’m not going to quit the blog without warning.
Lately, I’ve just felt more comfortable putting it on the back burner.
As of today, I’ve officially kept a human child alive and relatively healthy for an entire decade. Yay me! I did not, however, create this incredibly awesome cake:
FouCAKES gets the credit for that. It tasted even better than it looked.
This momentous occasion has prompted some reminiscing. Technically, the boy wasn’t supposed to arrive on the 15th. My original due date was carefully estimated and never readjusted. He was due to arrive on February 2nd.
The minute I realized the significance of February 2nd, I let out an unladylike squawk of laughter. The sonogram technician looked puzzled.
“Groundhog Day?” I asked.
I guess so, she said.
“Well, what if he actually arrives on his due date?” I queried.
It could happen, but most babies don’t, she said.
“But, what if he does come out on his due date . . . and then he sees his shadow and tries to go back in again?!?”
The poor lady was dumbfounded. She did not share my sense of humor.
For my entire pregnancy, I remained delighted by the due date. Most of the time, pregnant ladies get tired of answering the same questions over and over. “When are you due?” certainly tops the list.
Not when you are due on Groundhog Day.
When? an unsuspecting person would ask.
“Well,” I would begin with a serious tone, “I’m actually a little worried about that.”
Eyes would widen. Why?
“He’s due on February 2nd.”
Que the blank stare.
“That’s Groundhog Day.”
Blank stare continues.
Punchline . . . now. /Ba da bum./
I learned something in the ensuing months. Something besides the fact that it’s hard to sleep when you are pregnant.
I learned that most people don’t share my sense of humor. But every once in a while, I got a squawk of laughter in response to my punchline.
And I never did get tired of the joke.
A Stream of Consciousness
Has anybody noticed that all the lefty talk about Buffet’s secretary’s tax rate actually sounds like they are arguing for a flat tax? Am I the only one amused by this?
Speaking of buffets, I’m so not cooking tonight. One of the boys is sick enough to disrupt homeschooling. The solution: a midday School House Rock! video marathon for all, to be followed later by copious amounts of wonton soup.
A lot of these School House Rock songs are unfamiliar. Lovely lady liberty, with her book of recipes? Doesn’t ring a bell, but I sure do feel transported back to the 1970′s . . .
Say that reminds me. Plenty of folks think that Obama has a good shot at winning reelection. Here’s my question. Won’t Obama just pull a Jimmy Carter and get voted out, no matter who gets the GOP nod? It seems unlikely that our economic outlook will improve much in the next year, and well, don’t we always blame the sitting president and throw him out when that happens?
This leads me to a new idea, and it’s not a good one. Who is to say that a GOP win in 2012 is a good thing? What if . . . a Republican becomes President #45. He and the GOP majority in DC do a little here and there to curtail the federal behemoth, but not enough. The economy is too hampered by debt, inflation, general over-regulation and an unrepealed health care law, and it won’t bounce back soon enough.
I’m not predicting an apocalyptic economic collapse. Just stagnation, which is problematic in a culture as impatient as ours. Then, in 2016, America could vote out both the Republican President and the Congressional GOP majority.
And we’ll end up with . . . Something Worse Than Obama.
I dunno. I think that attempting to predict the future is not good for my mental health.
Moving on to things that are good for my mental health, you probably already know this, but I’m still going to announce the good news because it feels good to do so . . . Fleecy is back!
Yay!
Fleecy, Dude. You are a sight for sore eyes. Warn us before you go dark next time, pretty please?
I’ve got a new addition in my blogroll, ifn you are interested in homeschooling stuff: Redefining Stay At Home Mom. She’s pretty much a crafty ball of fire.
Speaking of the blogroll, I sure wonder how Jim Gourdie is doing. He hasn’t posted any updates lately.
Okay. I think that my stream of consciousness is all tapped out now. Later gators.
A Short Story for Engineers
Okay. I haven’t posted for eleven days, which is the longest gap since I started this blog.
Didja notice?
Nevermind. Maybe I don’t want to know the answer to that question.
Anyway. Long story short, my mom is doing better every day, and we fully expect the doctor to set a discharge date next week. Her back surgery was a completely anticipated and scheduled event, but the length of recovery . . . not so much. Still, we have every reason to believe it will provide long-term pain relief, and I’ll be honest here. Mom could use some relief after the last couple of years.
I had a great time visiting in Florida, regardless of the less-than-ideal circumstances. Sadly, it takes an event like this to make me slow down and properly appreciate the blessing that is Mommy and Daddy.
We had a lot of laughs, just a few tears, and some really profound self-realization moments, like when Dad was driving, and I squealed and cringed and hid my eyes as he did a sudden U-turn. “The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, does it?” he asked, chuckling. Yeah, well, okay, so I reacted like Mom. Most females would do the same, Mister.
On the airplane, I was able to make substantial progress reading Ted’s book, The Eagle Has Crashed. A really good story, and I can’t wait to find out what happens.
Oh, yeah. The title of my post refers to a story my step-dad-in-law emailed. It’s worth reading to the end, and you don’t need to be an engineer to appreciate it:
A toothpaste factory had a problem: they sometimes shipped empty boxes, without the tube inside. This was due to the way the production line was set up, and people with experience in designing production lines will tell you how difficult it is to have everything happen with timings so precise that every single unit coming out of it is perfect 100% of the time.
Small variations in the environment (which cannot be controlled in a cost-effective fashion) mean you must have quality assurance checks smartly distributed across the line so that customers all the way down to the supermarket don’t get pissed off and buy another product instead.
Understanding how important that was, the CEO of the toothpaste factory got the top people in the company together and they decided to start a new project, in which they would hire an external engineering company to solve their empty boxes problem, as their engineering department was already too stretched to take on any extra effort.
The project followed the usual process: budget and project sponsor allocated, RFP, third-parties selected, and six months (and $8 million) later they had a fantastic solution – on time, on budget, high quality and everyone in the project had a great time.
They solved the problem by using high-tech precision scales that would sound a bell and flash lights whenever a toothpaste box would weigh less than it should. The line would stop, and someone had to walk over and yank the defective box out of it, pressing another button when done to re-start the line.
A while later, the CEO decides to have a look at the ROI of the project: amazing results! No empty boxes ever shipped out of the factory after the scales were put in place. Very few customer complaints, and they were gaining market share. “That’s some money well spent!” – he says, before looking closely at the other statistics in the report.
It turns out, the number of defects picked up by the scales was zero after three weeks of production use. It should’ve been picking up at least a dozen a day, so maybe there was something wrong with the report. He filed a bug against it, and after some investigation, the engineers come back saying the report was actually correct. The scales really weren’t picking up any defects, because all boxes that got to that point in the conveyor belt were good.
Puzzled, the CEO travels down to the factory, and walks up to the part of the line where the precision scales were installed. A few feet before the scale, there was a $20 desk fan, blowing the empty boxes out of the belt and into a bin.
“Oh, that,” says one of the workers – “one of the guys put it there cause he was tired of walking over every time the bell rang.”
File This Under: The Price of Over Regulation
The best example of regulatory lunacy since The Tuna Confiscation of 2011 has to be this: the FAA has grounded a little aircraft used to escort endangered whooping cranes to their summer home. (via Drudge.)
Operation Migration is a nonprofit organization that seeks to reintroduce whooping cranes into eastern North America. Their website explains that, in the 1940s, the species was reduced to just 15 birds.
The whole operation is fascinating. They have to make the birds think that they are their mother.
So why was the migration grounded? Apparently, someone got worried they are paying the pilot for the task of flying the bird-looking “light sport” aircraft.
Now, don’t get too outraged. A waiver process is already in place. Certainly, a conservationist quest to save the whooping cranes will qualify for a waiver, and the migration will soon resume. Everything is completely friendly, explains the latest news report from Operation Migration (dated 05 January) : “The FAA is in support of this project and is working hard to resolve the matter in our favor. We appreciate their efforts.”
They seem very patient about the whole thing. Would a couple of days delay jeopardize the migration completely? Weather windows can be so fleeting.
Anyway, a waiver process makes everything copasetic, dontcha know. Rule of law, schmule of law.
The uninformed among us are largely unaware of the sheer volume and weight of regulation from every level of government. It blankets every nook and cranny of our society, and stifles activity in innumerable insidious ways.
Blissfully unaware, some people say, well what’s wrong with trying to prevent banks and corporations from abusing power? What’s wrong with making healthcare available to everyone, regardless of their ability to pay? What’s wrong with insert a well-meaning goal here.
These questions sound reasonable at first blush, but (aside from the whole running out of money to pay for it problem) we can glimpse the truth of the matter in situations like this one.
When we try to control the behavior of our fellow citizens (yes, even when they are corporation-y or bankish), right down to the smallest detail, we don’t get rid of abuses of power. We don’t get everyone the healthcare they need. We don’t get insert a well-meaning goal here.
We get lunacy. We get a guy who can’t benefit from the good luck of accidentally catching a giant tuna. We get an amazing charitable cooperative enterprise between individuals, governments, and businesses–stopped in its tracks.
We get a society that says, but we like the regulation that causes the problem here. We want to control businesses and charities, to keep them from taking clients on joy rides in risky Light Sport Aircraft.
Silly old me, I figure that if the clients are grown-ups, maybe they can decide for themselves whether flying in a glorified kite might be worth the patently obvious risks.
Society seems to disagree. Society seems content to replace the Rule of Law with Arbitrary Rule, doled out as privileges and favors in a myriad of “waiver” systems.
This fact frightens me more than, well, pretty much everything on our political landscape today.
Exit question: if a Tea Party was in need of this waiver, what would be their chances of receiving it? We could ask the Richmond Tea Party what they think.
The Perfectionist’s Guide to Christmas Trees
Okay, sure: this post is a bit late. It’s not too late, though. The tree yet darkens lightens the living room corner, mocking me with its warm glow and winking twinkle lightbulbs (just two, we’ll get to the rules on those later). Each year holds the same month-long ritual, ending with the take-the-tree-down-avoidance dance of the new year.
This post is intended to be humorous, sure, but make no mistake. I am serious about every step. Strict adherence is strongly encouraged and perhaps direly needed, for American culture is shedding its tree-trimming skills at an alarming rate.
In other words, the older I get, the worse everyone else’s tree becomes. So, perhaps you are here because you are a regular reader. Perhaps you actually googled for tips on decorating Christmas trees. Perhaps you are an insomniac with nothing better to do. Whatever the case, welcome to The Land of the Perfect Christmas Tree. It is a frustrating place.
Step One: Get The Tree.
Sounds easy, no? Well, maybe. If your idea of getting the tree involves a trip to the attic, basement or garage, stop! Or, rather, go ahead and grab the dang thing and chuck it to the curb. Ugh.
Over the years, artifical trees have gained popularity. With preset lights, no needles, and multi-year use, these plastic creations are convenient and cost-saving. Alas, I’m pretty sure they also make Santa cry.
No artificial tree exudes Christmas spirit like a real one. A real tree dominates the living area with an overpowering presence that cries out, look at me! and leave presents! An artificial tree sits demurely in the corner, unable to outshine even the light-up robotic snowman you got on clearance at Big Lots last January.
The details are the artificial tree’s undoing. They are usually too small. One cannot decorate the artifical tree’s inner branches (this creates depth, see the ornament step below). One cannot properly light it. One cannot even hang the bigger ornaments without unsightly “branch bump” (this occurs when an ornament leans on the surrounding branches instead of hanging freely). Also, they are probably made in China, and real trees are all-American (just ask Mr. G).
And I don’t wanna hear any comments about clean-up. You don’t have to vacuum much more than normal. Those pine needles are less dirty than all the human and/or pet dander with which we normally live. Trust me: when your sparkling work of art is finished, you won’t notice the needles on the floor.
Have you thrown that plastic tree out? Good. Now, when you are wandering the rows upon rows of fresh Christmas trees in the brisk outdoors, it’s easy to lose a sense of height. Here’s a rule of thumb for tree size: better too big than too small, as long as you own a decent saw. Admittedly, when you drag that tree indoors and try to right it, the subsequent gouging of ceiling paint is a pain, but the alternative is worse: being unimpressed by your tree. Nobody likes it when something’s too small.
Step Two: Standing The Tree
When I was a kid, my parents used a massive metal stand with gigantic screws that twist into the trunk until tight. That thing was heavy duty–a real anchor. Today, stands have shrunk in size and weight, making this step potentially tricky, especially if you are on your own because hubs is on the boat. What is supposed to be a festive occasion can turn into a hot mess and a string of profanities if you can’t get the dang tree anchored straight, not that I know from personal experience or anything.
If you don’t have a good old-fashioned heavy stand available, I recommend the adjust-by-pedal type, like the Wonder Stand. I’m not sure if my 11-year-old model is that brand, because it looks a bit different. Anyway, the pedal eliminates the old routine my parents went through, which involved my dad anchoring the tree, viewing it from every angle possible, then getting my mom to hold the tree steady while he gets under it and repositions the screws slightly, then viewing it again from every angle, and re-adjusting, lather, rinse, repeat.
Now, all we have to do is anchor the tree, view it from every angle possible, get hubs to hold the tree steady while I get under it and adjust the pedal slightly (it is hard to manipulate by foot), then view it again from every angle, and re-adjust, lather, rinse, repeat.
Hmm, well. At least the foot pedal is easier to adjust than the screws are.
Ooh, back up a minute. I almost forgot. Make sure that the tree seller saws off a bit of the trunk. Then get it in a stand full of water asap. If it sits outside overnight, you’ve got to cut it again, because the sap dries and seals the trunk so that it cannot drink water. Your tree won’t last a week if the trunk is sealed.
Step Three: Lighting The Tree
Do not, I repeat, do not string lights on the tree until it has stood overnight. The branches need to lower and spread out. If you don’t wait, you’ll have to do it over again. Ask me how I know.
Now as to color: multi is better, but all-white will do. Non-white same-color strings are terrible, don’t use them. Lights that blink or chase or change color along the entire string are right out. Don’t even think about it. The big, old fashioned bulbs bring a healthy dose of light to your tree, but they are too heavy and space-consuming. The little bulbs are light and pretty, but not bright enough on their own.
You’ll need to use both. String the large bulbs first. 
A modest tree (its tip is close to the ceiling, but it didn’t need cutting to fit) will take two strings of large bulbs and three strings of small bulbs. A “whoops-I-didn’t-realize-it-was-that-big” tree will need three strings of each type. Ban your tallest child to the back of the tree, so that he can hold the string when you go around for another pass. Tell him to hush if he gets impatient back there; it’s character-building. Ask me how I know.
I could write an entire post on light placement alone. The hour is late, however, and I don’t want to try your patience. Just put the larger bulbs slightly deeper in the tree, and allow enough space in between rows for the smaller bulb strings that follow. Tuck as much wire out of sight as you can, and try to balance between inner and outer lighting.
If possible, buy a pack of twinkling bulbs, and add a few to your large bulb string for that little something extra. Once the lights are done, stop for the day. The newly-weighed-down branches will continue to settle. If you don’t wait, you’ll have to move your ornaments later.
Step Four: Garland or Ribbon
My dad used gold garland. I prefer the wire-lined red ribbon available these days. You’ll need at least three 5-yard rolls, preferably four. Your eye for symmetry and the branches themselves will guide ribbon placement. Make sure you’ve banned that child into the back corner again, for the handy hand-off. Remember, it’s character-building.
Step Five: Ornament Placement
By this time, your children have been clamouring for three days to decorate the tree. Let them go crazy, with strict limitation. Rule Numero Uno: One ornament per branch. They may not learn this rule until age 18, but tough. This rule is strictly zero-tolerance: move all offending ornaments immediately.
Rule Numero Dos: Mom may move any ornament at any time.
Aesthetic considerations are more important than the children’s self-esteem. Anyway, I often move my husband’s ornaments, and even my own. As the tree gets filled, readjustment is necessary and natural. Remember, “branch bump” is not allowed, no exceptions.
Each ornament’s placement is dependent upon key factors: the ornament’s weight, the ornament’s size, the ornament’s beauty, and the ornament’s sentimental value. In that order, with the beauty and value being interchangeable on a case-by-case basis. The ornament’s weight is a variable factor, as the branches continue to lose strength. Keep a sharp eye out for drooping branches.
Ornament hanging generally takes two to three days. Towards the end, ban that big child to the back corner one more time, so that he may hang the plainer ornaments out-of-view. Why hang ornaments in the back, you ask? Well, they aren’t totally out-of-view, just mostly out-of-view. At certain angles, they are at least kind of visible.
The same visibility theory applies to ornaments hung deep inside the tree. They may be largely hidden, but peeks and glimmers within the tree create depth. Moreover, the inside is the only place where branches are strong enough to hold all the ornaments relatives give you because they know you love ornaments but they have no idea which ones to buy. (Buyer’s tip: If it feels like a paper weight in your hand, it is too heavy for the branches of a real tree.)
Here’s a few more ornament rules:
There is no such thing as too many ornaments.
All ornaments should be bought on clearance after Christmas day, unless you are on holiday in a place you are not likely to return.
The cheap ornaments are more valuable, especially those little red ribbon bowties you bought for a dollar at the Dollar General when you were twenty years old.
Homemade ornaments are the most valuable and always hang in prominent places.
Ornament breakage is a necessary part of life when you are an impatient spaz like me.
All rules subject to change with experience. Enjoy your tree. If you do it right, it should look something like this:
Presidential Holiday Messages Prove What, Exactly?
Like many of you, I’ve been fond of Misfit Politics ever since ATTACK WAAAAAAAAAATCH. Their newest video was uploaded the other day.
It is a comparison of President Obama’s recent Christmas message with his Ramadan message of 2009. Misfits’ video makes a profound impression. It highlights the way President Obama uses even nonpolitical messages for political purposes, by injecting his “I’m ending the war!” bit into both. Moreover, a difference between the videos in Obama’s tone and substance is unmistakable.
Should anyone wonder whether clever editing is to blame, the Misfits provide a link to each original message. Sure enough, a full viewing leaves one with the impression that the President takes Ramadan more seriously than Christmas.
So, does he?
This question led me on a morning-long quest for the bigger picture.
Here’s what I can tell you. The bigger picture is much less impressive than the one-two punch in a single video. After reading a little on the history of presidential Christmas messages, comparing previous presidents on YouTube, officially released White House holiday statements, and Obama’s various holiday messages, I have come to two conclusions.
First, protracted viewing of presidential holiday messaging makes me want to nap. Second, questioning the President’s religious beliefs is not a good idea.
I understand the religion angle: if a man is willing to be deceptive on an issue so personal, so important, and so personally important as his religious beliefs, than literally not a single word he utters can be trusted. It would mean a complete loss of credibility.
But, there is a problem.
Who can see in a man’s heart, and know his innermost thoughts, feelings, and beliefs? Not you or I. Sure, we can get some glimpses (always subject to interpretation, of course), like when the President expertly rattles off details about Islamic practice.
What are we to think, then, when President Obama expertly rattles off details about Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur? Does that mean he is secretly Jewish? Well, that video is merely half the length of the Ramadan video, so perhaps not. Should, then, we be concerned about the President’s reference to the spirit of Umoja?
How about the fact that in this latest (and patently goofy) Christmas video, the President referred to the birth of Jesus as a story? Perhaps this is a damaging little subconscious admission.
Ah, but I noticed something in this lovely 1981 Christmas message from President Reagan. He referred to the birth of Jesus as a “story” at :46.
President Bush has some interesting quotes too. In this Ramadan statement, he rather glibly pronounces Islam to be a peaceful religion, and he uses the Islamic term “mubarak” as though he, too, is an expert.
Please, don’t take this the wrong way. I’m still fond of Misfit Politics, and their video quite fairly leaves the viewer to judge for himself. My point is, we have better fish to fry. Lower hanging fruit hangs all over this tree. (Can you tell by my analogies that I’m getting hungry?)
Many other examples of Obama hypocrisy are both easy to prove and ultimately more damaging, for they do not require us to disprove what Obama claims to hold in his heart. First, how about the way Obama condemned Bush’s use of signing statements in 2008, and then felt free to use signing statements himself as a way to avoid new laws?
Or how about that 2008 Obama promise of a “net spending cut?” /snicker/
Or the way he claimed that Obamacare was going to lower healthcare costs? Or his promise to close down Guantanamo Bay? How about all the cronyism? Or the chart showing what the Recovery Act was supposed to accomplish, versus the reality?
Please, do add to this list. I know there are more examples, but the hour is past my lunch time, and I’m starting to draw a blank.
Supposedly, 1 in 5 of us think that our President is really Muslim. I think we should avoid such unprovable theories like the plague.
Chuck Pads The Blog
I’m working on a more lengthy post, but real life keeps trumping the blog.
I’m still here, though, and here is proof: a message from Chuck Woolery. Enjoy, and in case I don’t post or comment in the next several days, Merry Christmas! And Happy New (General Election) Year!
Happy?
Oh, goody! A study in the December issue of APA’s Journal of Family Psychology concludes that “working moms feel better than stay-at-home moms.”
Could it be? Ah, yes, it’s a twofer, combining the emotion-prevoking Mommy Wars with yet another Study of Dubious Utility.
A Google search unearthed the opinion of a professional feminist, which I’m not exactly sure what that is, other than someone I’m not likely to agree with often, but by golly I agree on this one:
” . . . personally, I think there are some days when I am [happy], some days when I’m not. This isn’t a race. There isn’t a shortage of happiness in this world, and the way people are splitting ‘The Motherhood’ into two camps just [bleeps] me off.”
Well, yes.
Something else is annoying, though, beyond the dubious utility and the arbitrary division.
Who likes it when other people think they know best? So when I hear this:
“lead author . . . says the real message of her study is this: get a job, whether full-time or part-time,”
my reaction is, don’t tell me what to do.
The vagaries of life haven’t offered me much in the way of universal truths, but one thing I can say with certainty: staying at home doesn’t make me unhappy, and likewise working wouldn’t make me unhappy, either.
I make myself unhappy.
That’s right, I cause my own unhappiness–and sometimes outright misery–no matter what my daily circumstances, which have varied greatly in the last forty years, I might add, and through all those changes I have always managed to maintain an impressively unhealthy level of worry, anxiety, insecurity, and general malaise.
Furthermore, no amount of scientific study, psychological profiling, or helpful advice will decrease said level of worry, anxiety, insecurity, general malaise, and outright misery. I’ll lower the levels when it suits me, if it suits me, on my own time, and in my own way.
Just so we’re clear on the matter.
project ultrasound
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