38 percent

The following quote was in our local paper today. It refers to high school students.

"Only 38 percent of Jefferson County students are proficient in both math and science, test scores show.

Among 29 industrialized countries, the United States scored below 20 others in math, according to a recent report by the international Organization for Economic Cooperation and Development."

Things like that scare me and what frightens me even more is the apathy and apparent willingness of our society to accept such dismal results. My tax dollars and your tax dollars should get more for our money. Our children deserve more. If our society is going to compete in the future and thrive we HAVE to do better than that.

Our country has always excelled at innovation. However, innovation in our schools is hindered by the lack of competition and inability to apply innovative thinking to the established bureaucracy of education. When will it change? Will it change with more money or more testing or more hours in the classroom?

No, it won't.

At what point will our country begin to notice an inability to compete in the global marketplace due to poor education? Perhaps it has already begun. Perhaps that is what it is going to take to shake up our society and force people to challenge the status quo.

What about you? How do figures like this affect you? Are you apathetic? Are you confused as to how you could make changes to the system? What responsibility do each of us have as citizens and tax payers in regards to information like this?

Aliens have landed

I have decided that I'll use my kid's nicknames in this blog to make it easier on my readers. E, my sweet girl, will be referred to as GooseyGirl. L, my type A boy, will be RocketMan. N, my laid back surfer boy, will be the BirdMan. They are 6 year old triplets.

Now back to our regular programming...

When my kidlets were little we couldn't go anywhere without stares and open curiosity from the general public. Once I made my friend Juliet, push our six foot long stroller in the mall just so that she could get a feel for how it felt to draw gaping stares everywhere you go. I found it amusing to walk behind her and watch others watch her. The pointing, the questioning looks, the gasps, it was fun just to see what I must look like when I pushed them in their stroller.

Now that they are six our stroller has been retired and the stares have diminished. Few people can pick out that they are triplets. However, I'm starting to get stares and gapes again but it isn't due to their multiple birth.

It is because they are aliens.

Last summer we took them to the Kentucky State Fair. There was a HUGE world map laid out on the floor and there weren't any people around. So for fun, I had them stand on Kentucky. Then I called out a country or state and they would run to put their foot on that country or state. "Italy!", I shouted. Off they'd go to hop on Italy. "Canada!", I called and they'd run to Canada. I glanced around and saw that no one was anywhere near us so I decided to have a little fun. "Sri Lanka!", I said. They scampered to Sri Lanka. "Belize!", "Madagascar!", "Turkey!". At this point my three were giggling and having a ball running all over the world to the different countries I was calling out.

Suddenly a male voice behind me said, "Mongolia!". I turned around and found a crowd had gathered behind me. There was one man grinning like mad. I turned back around and my alien children were perched on top of Mongolia. "Bosnia!", he shouted next. More and more people were gathering. "Saudi Arabia!", "Poland!", "Norway!". He was trying to trip them up but they just kept running to each country with glee. I was getting uncomfortable and yelled out, "Kentucky!". Once they got there I said, "Okay, time to leave!".

I turned around and a couple was staring at us open mouthed. I smiled and started moving quickly away. I was concerned that my alien children had exposed themselves and not at all comfortable with the public display that had just occurred.

Well, yesterday my alien children exposed themselves again.

We were standing in the olive oil aisle at Whole Foods Market a few steps behind another man who was looking over the myriad of oils and vinegars. GooseyGirl turns to me with her little girl voice and says, "Mommy did you know Athena was born from Zeus' head? His head just split right open and she popped out! Before that he had swallowed her mommy, Metis. Isn't that wired!?!"

At this point I glanced around to see who might have overheard my six year old little alien. Oops... too late. The olive oil man heard. He stopped, turned fully around and gaped at us.

I quickly ducked into the spaghetti sauce aisle and kept moving.

Poseidon, Apollo, Demeter and her cat Dazling

These are some pictures they drew yesterday!

N did the one of Poseidon. I love the trident!

E did the picture of Demeter with her pet cat Dazling. Technically, the Greeks never mentioned Dazling the cat. I'm sure it was just an oversight on their part. She also drew Apollo Can you find the golden apple in E's picture?

L drew a great picture of Paris with the golden apple standing before Aphrodite and Athena but he folded it up and put it in an envelope before I could scan it. We are mailing these pictures to each other so that they can practice addressing an envelope. Once it comes in the mail, I'll scan in his picture.

Booties

My triplets were born 6 weeks premature. L weighed 4.5 lbs. E weighed 4.75 lbs and N weighed 5 lbs. They were tiny creatures and I was a first time mom lost without a sail adrift through self-doubt and sleep depravation. To say that having three infants rocked my world is a definite understatement. I was in survival mode and struggling to get from one day to the next. If it weren't for all the help I got from my family, I wouldn't have made it through that time. Recently I found a box that brought all those memories flooding back to me.

When they came home from the hospital I kept their booties in a box that I had labeled, simply, "Booties". It contained only the premie size socks. There was a box next to it that I had labeled "Bigger Booties". It contained only the standard newborn size socks.

I was totally out of sync with reality. It didn't occur to me that there would be anything past the bigger bootie size. I was incapable of looking too far down the road because the notion of the future would overwhelm me, so I only focused on the here and now. I didn't label the sock box with typical 3 month, 6 month, 12 month size notations, just "Booties" and "Bigger Booties. The only trees in the forest of my reality that I could cope with stopped at "Bigger Booties".

I think I have the same sort of reaction to the long term idea of homeschooling. A common question I get is, "How long are you going to do this?", "Are you planning on homeschooling through high school?".

When I field these questions I get tunnel vision because homeschooling is like taking a drink from a firehose. There is so much to consider and think about that you can't take a big gulp or it would knock you right over. Booties, Bigger Booties. Baby steps, baby steps. I can only wrap my brain around one year at a time. Anything more than that makes my head spin. I do know that, for my family, it is working. I also know that I'm following a curriculum guide that is written for those who homeschool long term. So the forest has been mapped out for me while I focus only on my current trees and as long as it is working we will continue.

However, some days are better than others. Today it seems aliens have descended on my house in the night and stolen E's brain. She awoke completely incapable of recalling any of her addition facts that she had memorized for the past year.

Poof.... they are gone.

We now have to back up the bus and return to previous chapters in hopes that it will jump start her brain into recalling that which she has forgotten. I suppose the silver lining is that if she were in a traditional classroom, the teacher couldn't back up the bus for her. In fact, it might even take a long time to discover that she needed to stop and be retaught. Instead, she'd have to float along with the rest of the class and we'd have to work hard to help her while her classmates moved ahead. In the mean time, she might decide that she isn't good at math or that it is too hard for her. With homeschooling I can slow down and camp out here in her book while I reteach and get her back up to speed. She doesn't know that she's ahead or behind. She just knows that it is time for math.

The challenge for me is not to get frustrated and question everything I've been doing with her. I have to keep my focus and stop looking too far down the road. I now know that I've got to find a new way to package her lessons while I make a tin foil hat to keep those brain sucking aliens at bay.

The "Booties" box and the "Bigger Booties" box. Those boxes are gone now but I suppose the imaginary boxes on my shelf today would read, "First Grade", "Second Grade".

The Little Red Lighthouse

During our character education time this week we've been reading The Little Red Lighthouse and the Great Grey Bridge each morning. The book is about the pride the lighthouse feels as he goes about his job. However, at one point his pride goes to far and becomes the wrong kind of pride. The lighthouse declares, "I'm MASTER OF THE RIVER".

We started talking about the kind of pride that says, "I'm smarter or better than anyone else." We discussed how that type of pride sometimes leads to a fall or disappointment. In the story, just after the lighthouse declares himself Master of the River, a great grey bridge is built right next to him. The lighthouse feels very small and unimportant next to this huge structure, with it's giant light flashing from the upper reaches of its steel columns. He gives up and the bridge calls to him during a storm and asks him to shine his light for the ships since the bridge's light is only for the ships of the air. "To each his own, little brother", the great grey bridge tells him. The lighthouse returns to his work and now feels pride in his job but it is the proper kind of pride.

This is a pretty complex idea and so I waited until we'd read it a few times before I brought this to their attention. I thought maybe I'd tell them a story from my own life that could illustrate this. I told them about how I was recognized in high school as a good singer. I was picked to be a part of elite vocal groups, sang solos and competed in state singing competitions. In college I joined a group and was the only non-music major and the only freshman allowed in the small acapella ensemble. However, they wanted me to sing alto instead of soprano which I'd never done. But I decided that since I made it into the group and I'd won awards in high school, I didn't need to practice or prepare. I could read music after all and was accomplished at sight reading. Pride.

I was asked to sing four part harmony with three upperclassmen during a week long concert series. I was the only alto and I had to stand next to a soprano. The song was Silent Night and I thought, "I've been singing that song all my life. I need to just review it a couple of times but I'll be fine." We stood up to sing and after four notes the soprano reached over and gently put her hand on my hand. The message was clear. My notes were WAY off. I was so disappointed and embarrassed. I had set myself up for a fall with my pride. The next day I practised and rehearsed and when I sang the song again I got it right. My pride was back in check.

I told this story to my kidlets and I could see the wheels turning. N and E were quiet and really thinking about my story. Then L turned to look at me with his big brown eyes and I could see a question forming in his head.

"Mommy?", he said, "Can you believe how big this hole is in my sock?"

Arrrrghhhhhh......

Well, at least 2/3 of my children got it. Of course, L is the one who could most use this lesson but it went right over his head.

Snow Day!

Snow Day! School's out!
The middle picture is two boys (believe it or not) rolling down a very small hill. They are having fun and I'm preparing for the day's worth of washing kids and clothes once they come in.

Enjoy the snow today!

Mis dedos del pie son negros y azul.

Well, I shouldn't have worried about the Baptists trying to convert me. I should've worried about the roller skating.

Mis dedos del pie son negros y azul.

In the Spanish class we learned that "toes" in Spanish is "dedos del pie" or, literally, the fingers of my feet. Well, the fingers of my feet are black and blue. I should have worn steel toed boots.

I consider myself a practical, logical woman. I can think my way through most situations and so far, seem to have kept my three children alive. The kids wanted to roller skate. I thought, well, I'd be the only adult helping them, but as long as I don't wear skates we should be fine. Maybe we could even make it educational.

"Kids, here are your skates! How many rollers do you see on one skate? That's right, four. So how many rollers will E have on her two feet? That's right, eight. So how many rollers total will all three of you have on your six feet? That's right, 24."

Just that math fact alone should have alerted me to the oncoming danger. The other math fact I hadn't calculated was the proportion of centrifugal force three 50 pound children can have on their mother while flailing about with their arms and legs pointing in twelve different directions. The 5 pound steel skates on each of the six feet just make things more interesting.

Somehow I got them upright and clinging to the wall by their fingernails. I looked out at the rink and noticed all the other homeschool moms were sitting on the bleachers and I was the only adult getting out on the floor. The other children on the rink were zipping about at a high rate of speed and a low rate of control. No problem, I thought, I'll just stay to the outside. Of course, that was assuming I could actually steer this monstrous flailing mass of bodies and steel, that was hanging off my body.

We stepped out into the sea of human traffic and it started. Out of their twelve arms and legs, none were pointed in the same direction. I had three 50 pound tazmanian devils with a death grip on each of my arms and my waist. They were sinking fast and desperately seeking high ground. I was the bouey in the middle.

Then it happened. BAM! SLAM!!!

The last three toes on my right foot and the middle two toes on my left were taken out in a violent scene of stomping and sliding. My first instinct is to curse. And curse loudly. I opened my mouth and took in the sea of homeschool mothers sitting under the "Jesus is Lord" sign.

I roared instead. A momma lion roar but, thankfully, a G-rated lion.

L saw my face, cut his loses and struck out on his own. I never knew he could do the splits. The rest of the afternoon I spent shuffling pigeon toed between N and E.

At the end of the day, L said, "This is better than Six Flags Kentucky Kingdom!"

It is all about perspective, isn't it? Recently, my dear husband has mentioned that he wants to take all three kidlets to the ski slopes and have us teach them to ski.

He must be out of his mind.

Hola!

Look at this bumper sticker. Hilarious!

The socialization issue surrounding homeschooling gets raised by just about everyone and it is a HUGE myth. If we were to do every field trip, workshop, gym day, Spanish club, lego club, homeschool soccer team, or playdate that is offered, we'd never have time for lessons! Plus all of those social activities take place with a wide range of age groups and backgrounds.

When you think about it, how realistic is it to be placed in a room with 25 other people your exact same age for 7+ hours everyday? Does that ever happen outside of traditional school walls? Is that actually socializing them or just institutionalizing them?

My kids are just as comfortable engaging a 40 year old in conversation as they are a 4 year old. When we were on the subway in Washington DC, Nick struck up a conversation with an older black man. They made small talk and Nick brought him some smiles for his day. It was really sweet and I was so proud of his "socialization". One of my favorite bloggers says he homeschools because of square dancing. His articles are really amusing.

Anyway, today we are headed out to one of those social/educational activities. It is our first day of Spanish class! A former public school Spanish teacher has started a twice a month Spanish class at a Baptist church. After the class the kids enjoy open gym time that includes roller skating. The class is for kids 5-8 but the gym time is for all ages. The kids will learn together and then get a couple of ours to just play. I'm really excited about it.

The only pitfall may be the whole Baptist thing. Hopefully, it isn't a front for attempting to convert me. Isn't it funny that the people who most want to share their religion with you don't really want you to share yours with them. Cross your fingers for me!

Meowtweet!

My little girl adores cats. In fact, sometimes we go over to the local animal shelter and just love on the stray cats for fun. They have an entire room full of kittens and an entire room full of adult cats. She always claims that one of the cats fell in love with her but hasn't ever asked to bring one home. We already have two kitties, Jo-Jo and Yogi. Shawn has been in charge of cleaning the litter boxes ever since I was pregnant. He continues to this day and has always said that while he is the "litter box man", we will not become a three cat family.

Last night E was talking about the kittens up at the pet store and finally asked if we could get a kitten some day. I told her that if she starting cleaning up the litter box then daddy might agree to getting a kitten. Her eyes started dancing! She said, "You mean, if I learn to clean up the poopin' box, I could get a kitten?"

She was suddenly over the moon with delight. Shawn and I then reminded her of the horrors of the litter box. She got very quiet as she considered it. There was much discussion of Yogi's talents in this area and the boys enjoyed that part of the conversation immensely.

As the kitten conversation continued, N was getting more and more out of sorts. He wants a bird. More than anything else in the world, the boy wants a bird. He knows that one of the factors standing in his way are the cats. Now we were talking about getting another furry face and he saw his bird dream fading. Suddenly he was coming up with every reason why getting a kitten was a horrible idea.

"It will claw the drapes!" "It will break the vases!" "Yogi will beat it up!" "It will run accross your face at night!"

None of it was making a dent in Emily's brain until he said, "It will claw and bite you."

"Mommy, is that true?", Emily said.

"Yes", I replied.

Tears welled up in her eyes. She said, "I wouldn't like that. I don't think I can tame a kitten."

I thought, "Well, that's the end of that." And so did N. However, this morning she came running down the stairs.

"I'm ready to learn how to clean up the litter box, mommy!"

Nick looked crushed.

Anyone want to place your bets on how long it takes us to get both a bird AND a kitten? Sounds like a disaster waiting to happen, eh? Maybe we need to find a hybrid. A Catbird!

Girls Only Weekend!

January is traditionally the month that burnout sets in. The days are short and dark, the curriculum isn't new anymore and the excitement of Christmas has faded. Last week I was really starting to feel that and I had lost a great deal of the energy I needed to tackle our days.

Then, this weekend I went to Columbus to visit two cherished high school friends, Chong and Arica. (The photo is Arica and Chong at our Junior year choir trip to DC. Don't you love the glasses? They are going to kill me when they see this!) We spent endless hours talking about everything and even went to a spa on Saturday. What a wonderful, recharging weekend! This was girls only event and it marked the first time Arica had been away from her newborn. It was also the first time Chong had been away from her family for a non-work related event. What a wonderful excuse to gather together and chase the winter blahs away!

I feel renewed and ready to tackle the last half of first grade!

Beep, Beep, Beep, Beep

This week during our character studies time we are reading Gramma's Walk by Anna Grossnickle Hines. The description of the book reads, "A loving relationship between a young boy and his gramma provides an opportunity for using imagination to compensate a handicap."

We've used this book to talk about those with physical disabilities and I've drawn their attention to handicap signs, ramps and restroom stalls this week. Then I stumbled across this picture and shared it with them. I told them, "See, there was a time when Mommy had to use the handicap carts and parking spaces. I had to use a wheelchair."

"Why?", E asked.

I told her, "Because I had three babies in my tummy and I had problems walking."

The three of them got really, really quiet and studied that photo for a long time. I thought I'd really found a way to connect to them that people with physical disabilities are no different than your mom. They have feelings, dreams, hopes, etc.

Then N said, "But how did you go to the bathroom?"

????????

Just when you think a light bulb goes off suddenly it fizzles out right in front of your eyes.

Looking back at this picture sure did bring back memories. I always hated how those Target drivey carts beeped when I was backing up!

We're Back!

Christmas was a whirlwind of activity. I had all these grand ideas of all these things I was going to accomplish and very, very few of them got done. But we did have some great visits with family.

Uncle Bernie came up from Florida and spent time with us. He came to Kentucky to buy Shawn's green firebird sports car. Shawn was a little sad to see it go. He's had that car for a very long time. But knowing the money from the car will go towards his new boat will certainly cheer him up!

Emily was so glad school was starting up again. She looked at me with her big brown eyes dancing and said, "Mommy, can we do a special craft to celebrate school?" How could you say no to that? So this afternoon we are making snowmen chains out of paper and dressing them in scarfs, buttons and hats. It is a bit weird to be making snowmen in January when it got up to 65 yesterday!

I hope you all had a Merry Christmas and trust we will all have a wonderful new year!