30 January 2010
28 January 2010
If you have the time to watch this video of Gayle Haggard, I think you'll be blessed. She sure sounds a little overidealistic to me, especially in regards to this idea that her husband could go through a couple years of therapy and not have *one* single gay compulsion... but she seems like such an *amazing* person with that kind of compassion for others and forgiveness... wow. Just imagine all the friendships she lost and the pain she went through for that dope of a husband she has. She may be overidealistic, but she does not strike me as naive or stupid. And she is right, I think, in her statement that hypocrisy is the human condition. Her husband has just played his out on a very public stage.
Now, of course, ol' Teddy has no thoughts like that at all. No, no, no. But the sad thing is... folks in the church make it kinda tough to come out and say you're struggling in an area like that. I'm not saying it's "right," but we also have plenty of fat parishoners (Mrs. C included) we accept every week, knowing that HELLOOO, the "sin of gluttony" is practically shouted out by the fat pants. Or pregnant parishoners who shouldn't be... but here we're gushing about when the baby is due and isn't that exciting? And how are you feeling? Or we meet people and learn they're living together in sin and we're saying nothing? Hope you come back next week? I guess it's only hypocrisy when it's someone who criticises another person and yet partakes in THAT SAME SIN himself. So, it's ok for me to sit around and criticise people for their sexual immorality whilst overstuffing myself on pizza and Grace's Best Sunflower cookies. It's only wrong when I attack a fellow GLUTTON. Ahhh... now I get it. (snarfs pizza loudly) That stupid Ted Haggard.
I'm watching this video and thinking, poor Miss Gayle might just find herself shocked in a few years by some misbehaviour or "mistake." That, or she's laughing all the way to the bank after writing this book. That, or maybe Ted is totally and completely healed and it's all due to a couplea therapy sessions and now *wham-o* the sex with his wife is better than ever. (Not that I wanted to hear that part... uggg. Just not a visual I want while I'm eating, ok?) But if the latter is true, Mrs. C has a bunch of other problems that she would like fixed in her life, fortunately (or not!) not the kind that I could write an entire novel about and have people be that terribly interested. They're probably the same problems YOU have but don't write about.
25 January 2010
23 January 2010
"You have to hear this," he tells me, and settles in to read. "When scorpions reproduce, the male uses his pincers to hold the female's pincers. Then he drags her around until he can fertilize her."
Here Patrick, who was standing nearby, has to smirk and raise his eyebrow at me. Shut up, Patrick.
"When scorpions do this, it looks like they are dancing," Elf read.
"Um, yeah, it does kinda look like they are dancing, I guess," I told him as I tried to do the "look like I'm really busy and in too much of a hurry to talk right now" thing because I am uncomfortable. Mostly because I just faintly heard Patrick snort.
"Sometimes getting dragged around makes the female angry," Elf continued. Man, that kid CANNOT take a hint. Now Patrick is devoting his full attention to this reading. He's nodding and his arms are folded. My heart is sinking and I'm probably turning red. Great.
I wish I left that so-called "kids' book" on the library shelf but noooo. I had to get all homeschool-y and make the kids research a report on "something about a desert animal that is interesting."
"The male will then sting her," Elf read as Patrick came over to check out the pictures and nod. YES! There is scorpion porn, right in the middle of this children's book! I'm flabbergasted, but Elf just keeps reading as if scorpions *ahem* doing this were an acceptable topic of conversation. "This does not kill the female, but it numbs her so that she will stay still. The male can then fertilize the female."
"Interesting technique," Patrick comments.
"Once the dance is over, the male scorpion runs away. He does not want the female to try to eat him. It does not happen very often, but sometimes she does." Little Elf has his eyebrows up in that chubby Spock "isn't that interesting and odd" sort of pose.
"Ohhh," Patrick nods and does the "hmm" pose. Clearly he has no interest in directing the attention *away* from this awful book.
"Well... that's very... disturbing, Elf," I sputter, hoping that was positive enough. "I guess the female scorpion gets kinda mad about being dragged around and stung."
"And fertilized," Patrick interjects with a grin. He's 16 and I'm still not sure how I'm going to raise this one.
"Um, we have to go now," I tell Elf. "Lock us out there, would ya?"
"Sure! So... did you like the story? Was it interesting?"
"Welllll... you read a bunch of stuff I didn't know about before, I'll tell you that!"
"OK!" he said proudly as he was shutting the door. "See you later!"
I'm glad for you that you have 16 children, all homeschooled, and all perfectly neat and tidy in the pictures (matching outfits, too. How did you afford that? And then, what threats did you have to use on your teen male to get him all dressed up like that?). I admit that I'm glad mostly because then I could at least point to someone else who has it all together and say, well... it isn't the "lots of kids" or the "homeschooling" that makes us dysfunctional and odd... it's just us. That's oddly comforting, because if the problem is us, all we have to do is pray reallllly hard while clicking our special red shoes and reading the correct Bible verse, and we will *change* and become different sorts of people. Nice ones, even.
I must admit to you at the present moment that I'm continually tweaking the schedule here at the Mrs. C house. I'm so tiiiired of trying to homeschool through the little ones screaming that I'm very, very tempted to just throw a book at some older children and log that down as "literature time." Then I can spend my morning with the little kids and Mr. Potato Head. It's pretty challenging to homeschool while dealing with the toddlers wanting to get out of the downstairs area. Trouble is, there is NOWHERE ELSE to put them that they won't cause a lot of trouble and cleanup... and be more of a distraction than just letting them howl downstairs in the middle of their roomful of toys because God forbid I left them for a bit and am visible through the doorway (!). Woodjie tends to throw toys and scream very loudly even under the best of circumstances, so I can't "just" have him in the same room while I'm homeschooling. Other parents can do a lot of "just" this or that things that I can't... such as "just" take a shower while this or that is going on, or "just" do the laundry WITH the little kids and don't use prime "alone time" for that activity.
You would just have to see the special needs Woodjie has and visualize the horrendous layout of our home to know what I mean (it's a nice enough house, but a HORRENDOUS layout considering our situation... but how were we to know that 12 years ago when we purchased the place!??)
There is an air intake vent here that must not be blocked, doors opening onto stairways that can't be cordoned off, electrical outlets that have been painted over so many times that one can't put safety covers over them (it MUST be blocked with heavy furniture because it's an older house and nothing is grounded). Then we have poles downstairs, which are useful for holding up the house and all, but sure put a crimp in the ol' decorating and arranging of furniture. Computer must go where the telephone jack is located. And we have to put the TRAMPOLINE somewhere (Yes! We are white trash! But the trampoline goes with the picnic bench we are storing! In the family room! Besides which, the basement is too full of metal leatherworking SKEWERS and needles, Christmas trees, boxed curriculum and bags of children's clothes stacked five feet high. I kid you not, and no, I'm not posting a pic.)
Woodburning stove? Some previous owner decided to plop that puppy right in the middle of the family room. It wasn't a big problem when Patrick and G were little and we bought the house, but now we have gates snaking about downstairs.... big metal monstrosities that look terrible but keep tiny kids from getting into the electronics. Someday these kids are going to escape the gate and then... then... the two really *good* hours of homeschooling I get done each day will be out the window.
Yes, I play with the little kids. Yes, they have toys. They just don't get constant attention and they dislike that part. I'm trying to do the picture schedule... first "playtime" (so Mom can homeschool/clean the kitchen), then "arts and crafts" (you sit there with a crayon at the kitchen table, or some playdoh), then more "playtime" so Mom can clean the mess, then "lunch" and for Woodjie, "bus time."
I'm beginning to think that I should "just" homeschool when Woodjie gets on the bus. He leaves at 1 p.m. and Patrick comes home around 3:15. That would be two hours and fifteen minutes. It's hard, though, if the homeschooled boys have had a break BEFORE school stuff gets serious, to pull them away from what they want to do. I like to have rewards for AFTER school. Then there's the "Mom needs to eat an actual meal SOMETIME during the day" factor, and honestly? I'm downright crabby by 1:00 and want to get away from people.
Then I go back and think I might just be crabby because I'm not eating properly. Sure, I don't have time for meals, but that doesn't stop me from grabbing and eating an entire bag of cookies, three candy bars and five cups of coffee here and there. So don't worry that I'm starving here in my 3x pants. I keep getting these stomachaches, too, but of course that can't be from poor eating habits. It must be stress.
I hate screaming in my house!! If only, if only, if ONLY I could teach Woodjie to SPEAK, there wouldn't be so much yelling because the little girl will follow his lead. We could do some things like... oh... I don't know... ask for stuff we want and have a discussion about "sure, I'll give it to you in five more minutes" or "no, because (reason)" or my fave: "YES! HERE IT IS! I'M GLAD YOU ASKED AND USED YOUR WORDS INSTEAD OF HOWLING AND POINTING and making me do a dance all over the room, grabbing things and going, 'This? No... um... This? No? How about this?' and handing you random objects you don't want. Good job, buddy!"
I'm all for the neurodiversity thing, but I'm so not for the kid being miserable, wanting stuff and not being able to tell me what it is, and my not being able to talk back to him in a way that he can understand. Good grief, that stinks. I'm so tired of it!
If I had some big chunk of money that was all mine and D couldn't stinkin' well veto my purchase, I would hire a special-needs consultant to help me design and build a house where we can all live in peace and harmony. I'm really having some trouble figuring out what goes where and when to do everything I need to do.
I know some things need to change. There are folks in my home on a regular basis (another story!) and whatnot, and they don't see a "problem." Is it just me? Am I too sensitive to the fact that my kids yell? I want a quiet and peaceful home with no clutter that is clean and organized. I am very, very, VERY blessed. I am just either very sensitive about the children crying and the faults of my organization system, or I am needing to change A LOT of things and not knowing where to start.
God's grace meets me where I am, but I think it's the latter.
22 January 2010
21 January 2010
20 January 2010
19 January 2010
"This tragedy was about people: Many thousands of people are dead or injured. Babies buried under rubble. Old men crushed under rock and cement. Old women suffocated under tons of dirt. Children who probably had played games like any other children in the world crushed to death. Men and women who were mothers and fathers lost forever. Those who lived have to dig all those who died out. They must live knowing that those they loved dearly died unexpectedly and possibly painfully.
"Please stop commenting on tragedies like they are entertainment. They aren't. Imagine your own family if this were to occur to them, imagine your feelings if you discovered their lifeless bodies with your shovel. America, please find empathy and sympathy, or we are lost. "
-- NewRevolution, reprinted from the comments section of the New Haven Register online.
18 January 2010
Well, let's just pretend you and a few of your friends are elected on a big important board. You guys get together and decide what the books that aren't even published yet are going to include. The books will sell millions of copies and be diligently taught to children not only in your little homeschool group... but nationwide. Because (let's pretend) ALL the schools in the nation tend to follow your lead. You're the respected curriculum choice... because everyone chooses your stuff... because you have a lot of people in your group... so everyone chooses your stuff... because you have a lot of people in your group... so everyone chooses your stuff.
Bwa ha ha HAAA... just think of the power you'd have. You'd get to decide about the important things, really important things, that children will be learning. Finally, the golden sceptre, the ring of power, that juuuuuicy decision-making power is YOURS. World domination cannot be far behind, friend.
"We'll use it to teach about hip-hop music to the kids," your friend Double U Dawg says. "This world domination thing can't be taken too lightly, and we should be sure to teach children about IMPORTANT things like hip-hop music and the dormant power of the inner-city migrant field worker subculture."
"But I think hip-hop music is stupid," your friend Cletus counters. "Country music and proper *yeeee-hah!* Duke Boy yelling technique both need to be taught to all first graders. An' some line dancing in fourth."
"Hmpf," Snarki Smyth intones as she rolls her eyes and fiddles with her snooty half-spectacles using her obscenely fake French nails. Yeah, she's not really your friend, but you invited her to be on the committee because she agreed to take notes and run PowerPoint. "Country music strikes me as just the sort of thing the hip-hop people would do if they were plopped into the country livin' for a while. Booze, loose morals and excessive admiration for large motor vehicles. I think we should teach children about the IMPORTANT things... like the necessity of quilt-making in pioneer America. Third graders should be able to accurately reconstruct a quilt design from paper. I want that on the test, too. Woe betide the child who can't cut a straight line!"
"Ohhh, nooo, you don't," seethes your poofy-wigged, sequin-wearing, glamourous, curvaceous and *famous* friend, Unbie Knownst. "I insist we print up a list of weird names like Ellen Ochoa, Le Chez Somebodyoranother, the Girl Scout founding chick and a bunch of other people my friend Mrs. C has never heard of before. While we're at it, we need to get her a Britney Spears album and make her listen to it. It drives me nuts that she thinks 'Oops I did it again/ I pooped on the floor/ and I peed in my pants' is one of her hits because her older son told her so six years ago. That is literally *all* she can sing of her musical repetoire." Unbie then sniffs the air as if Mrs. C's extreme lack of knowledge has polluted her nostrils.
Mrs. C counters that she KNOWS Spears is the lady who shaved her head and appeared on her AOL welcome screen for about three weeks straight. And like many people, Mrs. C used to BE in Girl Scouts -- for years -- and never knew who founded it or why. She thought it was all about the brown beanie, doing crafts and going camping. She suggests that maybe the kids should do THAT just for fun.
*much yelling ensues between group members*
Ahhh... drama. Sometimes I think we homeschoolers take those state public school curriculum boards far too seriously. Other days? I think we're in for some serious trouble in 20 years if this is the stuff we're teaching our kids.
17 January 2010
15 January 2010
Did you know Jostens also sells THREE Barack Obama styles?? I kid you not.
Barack Obama high school rings?? No Washington or (my fave!) John Quincy Adams rings?? Man, Jesus doesn't even have His own style with Jostens, but Obama gets three gaudy styles - your choice of custom colour, some complete with the American flag.
Patrick thought and thought and thought about it, but finally decided that he would appreciate a ring, but didn't think he'd appreciate it $300 worth. Which is probably a wise decision as aside from a mood ring we got at the Fall Festival once when he was eight, I don't think he's ever worn a ring in his life. It would take some getting used to.
But I really think Patrick ought to have that opportunity, if not this year, then certainly next. We can at least look more at the styles and you can pop ideas in your head for next year. Just think about it.
Noo... it's ok, he told me. But let's look at the website some more and design a ring with lotsa bling!
Hey, ok. We were doodling with the Sheer Ice style, only $1,364 before sales tax, shipping and customization. We had his initials on the thing and all kinds of options were going on.
D came upstairs and said no, he couldn't believe the cheapest ring is $300. Well... it was the cheapest WE could find.
*flip, flip* Cheaper than THIS one?
I don't know how he does it, but he found the cheapest ring just like that. I kept getting distracted by all the pictures and options, but there it was. You get NO choice on the stone colour or what the sides look like (except for your grad year) but thankfully the school colour is the default colour and it is JUST the colour he had picked out on the more expensive ring!! (No, not the Sheer Ice one. Those are pure diamonds, baby!)
D has agreed he will pay $125 of the ring's cost, and I'm thinking the ring will be a few dollars over or under that amount once you figure in taxes, shipping and whatever other charge they want to put on it. Yep. "Basic Options" in the cheapest metal is listed at $85.95. Add initial engraving to the inside for an extra charge, and there you go. I think he'll be happy with it.
"EE? EEE? EEEE!" Woodjie is no dum-dum. Hey, he doesn't say much, but he knows a good thing when he sees it. For him, though, it isn't really a good thing because he has allergies. He knows maybe three words, and unfortunately he chose to say a new one when we were serving something he couldn't have recently: pizza.
"No, Woodjie. You're allergic." Before the wail and tantrum that are starting to simmer after his hearing this reach full boil, I bring over the milk and egg-free sugar wafers. "Want cookie?"
"Doo-EEE?" (Whole body nod!) Oh, yeah. He's pretty happy now. But there's still trouble in the Mrs. C house.
"Boo? Boo? Boo?" Rose wants 'em. She even points to the spot in her bowl she wants you to set them. "Hee!"
Um, nope. These are Woodjie's special expensive cookies. You don't get any, kid.
Sometimes you just can't win! At least Elf and Emperor were very hilariously entertained by this exchange while they were chomping on cheese balls. Better than dinner theatre, I suppose. :)
14 January 2010
12 January 2010
But she doesn't. She laughs at burps. She puts her feet on the table during meals. She even throws her food, she's that rude sometimes. It doesn't help that occasionally her brothers encourage this by giggling about it.
I'm really working hard with this kid. At least now she can wave her hand around as though she were smelling something awful and say "poo-poo" so I can get a chance to change her. Before? She'd crumple her nose as if to say, "Get this icky thing away from me," dig in her pants and throw the offending object away. Eew!
Ok, so there's progress on that front. But she's still climbing the couch. It doesn't matter what nasty punishment I devise for the kid; she's motivated. Once I caught her in the act and was running toward her when she tackled WOODJIE, who was minding his own business, told him "No! NO! No, no" and SMACKED him a good one upside the head. Like that will work on me and placate my anger. The kid has some serious reasoning issues.
Or this: Imagine you are less than three feet tall. Your older brothers are about 6 ft 2 inches tall, and they are chasing you, scaring you and being a monster or a lion. Do you:
A. Run away! Scream for Mom to help!
C. Confront them head-on with a big growl and LICK THEM? And then tell them "NO No NOOOOOO" while you squish your face up in an angry pout and point your finger at them?
The girl is crazy, too, because she chooses choice C on a regular basis.
This child also has no idea about "Mom means what she says." She knows Woodjie is leaving the house (he goes to preschool) and asks for her "Shhhh-zooz." Um, nope. You're going to be going nigh-nigh soon.
Later... "Shhh-zooz?" Um, nope. Nigh-nigh.
(crumples herself on the floor dramatically. Mom ignores her.) "Owwwwwt? Owwt? (still ignoring) "Shhhh-zoooz?"
"Up, up, up?? Owwwwwwt?" Um, nope. Nigh-nigh in one minute.
Ok, nigh-nigh NOW, then. Time for bed!
I almost feel sorry for her... but she has to learn sometime. Elf and Emperor were pleading her case... she really should go somewhere... she used her WORDS! How about we go to Wal-Mart? Then we can look at all the toys!
Isn't that generous?
11 January 2010
Now, I love my family. But last year my very close family member quipped that what happened to Elfie was "warranted." Yep. Locking a very small Elf (who is a very close family member of hers as well!) in the closet by people she doesn't even know was "warranted" because he behaved badly at school. With a support system like this, is it any wonder that my best peeps are online?
Is it any wonder that here, in the 21st century, it's hard to convince people "out there" that this isn't how we treat people if we can AT ALL help it... if I can't get through to my own family? There's no point even trying anymore to prove to her that what happened to Elf was wrong or that what I'm doing is good enough. I will never be good enough. My kids will never be good enough, which is probably why we haven't seen some people in years. The days of trying to prove myself to folks like this are OVER.
Let 'em think what they want.
I haven't said so much as "hi" to her since then. Much as I love her, I don't know if I ever will. What is there to say? Beyond "hi," I mean.
I know she's reading, so I'm trying to be evenhanded in what I'm writing (you do the same in your comments, please). Maybe she still sees the teen she dealt with instead of the adult, and she's remembering me as the person with stupid judgment. (I'm pushing 40 though, so it's kinda time to let all that go...) Or maybe since I'm doing things differently than she did, or have so many kids, she thinks I'm wrong. I know she could start her own blog and come up with some DOOOOOOOZIES about my past that I don't blog about and sure don't want *you* to know. I'll admit to being selective sometimes with what I share with you.
But my point being... in my relationship with my (family member)... there is only so much on my side that I can do. (Or I am doing all the WRONG things and don't even know it? It's possible.) Sometimes it's just time to let it go and hang up that phone as I deal with enough drama INSIDE my house that I'm sure not looking for it outside. I'm really not! So, family members, if you wonder why I almost never write or call, it's because I'm tired of it and don't know what to say to you anymore. Call me when you're ready to be affirming and hope to catch me on a good day.
So, I wrestle with what to post on this blog sometimes. I want to keep other people's secrets and hurts private, but when I'm deeply hurt, how much to post? Which details? How to reach out online for help from people who understand without humiliating people? I strove for that balance in this post. Hopefully I have balanced privacy and my need for community pretty well on my blog as a whole ... but maybe not. Maybe there is no easy answer to how much to share and how much not. It all depends, I suppose, on whether you're the one written about or doing the writing.
And I'm sure there are plenty of people who actually have IRL friends and don't see the need for the blogs at all. It's just too public! Well, goody wow for you that you have IRL friends. Some of us are not so fortunate. I want to share this post with you while I'm thinking on it. I think it's a good example of that balance between sharing what's going on and naming names and very specific places and dates. Sometimes IRL friends aren't enough, most especially if you are in a more specific circumstance than the average bear.
But in conclusion, I am finally learning not to ask for help, support, or a listening ear from others who aren't in the same trench because you know what? NO ONE ELSE gets it.
So I want to take a minute and thank all my online buddies for making the journey more bearable. I think for all people discuss spending too much time in front of the computer, it can be a lifeline, a sanity saver, to some folks like me. Now I can go back to my kids knowing I've just told some friends what's on my mind, and I'll read your replies later. Mmmm. Cheaper than therapy, and five times as sweet. THANKS for being my blog buddies. Off to serve lunch! :)
08 January 2010
07 January 2010
Waah! We were only able to have one child, and we wanted another boy about the same age as ours for his company, figuring it would be better than springing for a dog that would wet on the floor and bark at night. What better way to get a kid than to ask the government for one of the extras they have on hand already? Then we could train him up, raise him right (you know, as though he came biologically from a *decent* family like ours?) and get a tax deduction to boot!
Yippeee! Now we won't have to be sad that we can only have one kid and/or I won't have to worry about gaining weight and being a fat pig... like the kid's biological mother.
Can I just go off on the kid's biological mother a sec? Ok, thanks. Um, she's a selfish little twit who doesn't have custody. I'm going to disclose private information about her problems for public consumption in this article because I'm mad about taxes and stuff. I'm also going to write alllll about how egocentric she is for turning in her big gas guzzling car for something smaller, newer and more fuel efficient, even though she rarely is able to keep her children over (gossip about reason/ her problems). I'm going to act surprised while I write this article that families whose children are in foster care sometimes have problems and stuff.
Anyway... we kept this brat of a kid for just over six realllly long months. He was like family! Or, at least until we traded him in because we couldn't stand him. He didn't get along well with OUR little Precious Man, but we were sad to see him go. Really sad. He behaved badly! Defective goods! You understand. Thanks.
But since we put up with the twirp for so long, we deserve a tax deduction for this! It isn't fair that the mom might maybe get one, even though I know nothing about her financial situation and whether a tax deduction would make any blessed difference. I'm going to whine about it anyway.
Waah! I want a tax deduction! The mom isn't perfect like I am, so I should get one, not her.
Waah! I want a tax deduction! Waah! It isn't fair! Waah! Waah! Waah! And now I'm going to act all sad that other moms who are *great* like me might not enter the foster care system. I'm just sure it's alllll because of the lack of a tax deduction.
(Disclaimer: the foster families I know have never been this petty. It's a hard job. Placements sometimes don't work out. But wow.)
06 January 2010
Elf and Emperor have been reviewing subjects and predicates, using a thesaurus, and writing a "personal narrative" of late. Don't forget to comment on their blogs if you haven't already! They are also in the process of writing about what they think would happen if they were in charge of writing a sequel to Journey to the Center of the Earth. I'm NOT allowed to view the authors' works in progress, but they've been pretty busy. We're learning to write the names of the books of the Bible correctly this year as part of our spelling curriculum. A few other words Elf has trouble with are included each week. Elf is a great reader, so whoever came up with this idea that great readers are always great spellers... is wrong. Elf is a great speller "in progress," ok?
We will continue working on long division and multiplication until we've mastered it. Even if it takes until June. And even if using a calculator is easier. The noogies are tough, guys.
Wrapping up our Lifepac on "seaport cities." Sydney, Hong Kong, Istanbul and London were covered. Did you know that you can see the Gettysburg Bible in London, or that the London Blitz is the oldest part of the city, or that the BBC is the English Channel? I swear I taught them properly. I won't even, even get into this idea that "Constantinople" is the guy who influenced Chinese history with his wise sayings. They KNOW the answer when they get a few choices named on quizzes, but don't always come up with the um, exact correct name of everything on their own. They demonstrate *just* enough to show you that they were listening, but not enough to mark the answer down as correct.
We did some work on weather in December and even made a thermometer with water instead of mercury. It didn't work so well, though... We'll be discussing food chains and that sort of stuff in our next unit. First, we are going to surf around on the web and look up things that we feel like learning for a bit. :)
We've finished Robin Hood, Heidi, Journey to the Center of the Earth and are beginning 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea. Tonight we began by learning that a league is about three miles. So... 60,000 miles under the surface of the ocean. Plausible... Elf and Emperor think that since the sea creature described at the beginning of the book has a long sword-like nose, that it would like to make Captain Nemo a "shish-kebab."
Well. Maybe they were paying attention in social studies after all, as this dish was discussed when we covered the culture of Istanbul. Awww.
Of course, within 30 seconds, the boys were talking about how it would rightly be a "nose-kebab" on one of these creatures and began discussing how the other sea creatures would be eating their dinners off its nose, and how funny that is (*hee hee heeeeeee* Elf giggles), and who gets the drumsticks.
Sick, sick, sick.
We are officially backslidden as we have done very little in our Bible curriculum over the last month.
Music and Art
We made a diorama of the Journey to the Center of the Earth, complete with a giant tree, mushrooms, strange sea creatures and Captain Hook. (Well, he's sort of making a cameo appearance. It really has nothing to do with the book.)
In music, Patrick is doing some teaching, and then the children practice what they have learned. *whew* That was worth a $5 lesson. Yep.
05 January 2010
Orthodox Judaism: 100%
Eastern Orthodox: 93%
Roman Catholic: 93%
Seventh Day Adventist: 92%
Mainline to Conservative Christian/Protestant: 91%
Hat tip to Darren for the quiz link. I'm sure it's scientifically accurate, though I'm thinking my refusal to plop God into a "Trinity" category is what caused this shift between what I identify myself as... and what the quiz figures I am. So I guess I can't join your church if absolute ready-to-die for the concept of Trinity is a membership requirement. Conversely, am I going to say that what was contained in the bodily Jesus is all there is to God? He was just playing cosmic puppet show when He got baptized? Maybe Mrs. C is wishy-washy, or she just realizes she doesn't have all the answers, or she is too lazy to fast for 27 days and pray until God reveals the answer. (Maybe I just don't wanna know that bad and am happy with not understanding it all... oh well. Other stuff to do.)
And in other news, Jesus was autistic. Yep... that's right. And what a wasted life He lived, too, eh?
"The present authors, having taken at least a cursory glance at all peer-reviewed articles produced by means of an Internet search performed on June 6, 2006, and filtered by means of the keywords 'Christ+autism+disability+burden+tragedy,' have reached the unanimous and infallible conclusion that the man once known as Jesus of Nazareth, sometimes also as Jesus of Galilee, sometimes also as the Messiah, sometimes finally as Jesus the Christ (ambiguous self-identity is another well-known symptom of autism), did indeed suffer the debilitating consequences of a form of autistic spectrum disorder, sometimes known as ASD... adequate support has been provided in this article for all the basic diagnostic criteria in the case of Jesus—the social awkwardness, the language difficulties, the obsessive interests, and not to mention, a sickening disregard for the medical profession."
The article laments the lack of care and ABA therapy Jesus experienced. Maybe I shouldn't laugh at this stuff, but I did.
04 January 2010
Emperor wrote about going to the zoo last summer. We had a long day at the zoo before we came home to play outside and have dinner. I've left all of his original spelling and punctuation, but have altered some of the names mentioned to blog nicknames. :)
Elf has written an account about flying to Florida and going to Disney with his Nana and Grandpa about three years ago. I am not sure where he gets his ideas that Nana and Grandpa own the Disney hotel or how he flew for days and days, but it's pretty cute as well.
Will you please visit and feed the comment bugs? Thanks!