Busier than a one-legged cat...

...trying to bury turds on a frozen pond.

Questions I've Answered in the Past Week:
1. Is Rudolph real?
2. But how did the baby get in there?
3. Why does poop come out your butt? (This by far was the easiest and most fun to answer, even at the lunch table.)
4. What is gold made of? (This one wasn't bad either, especially since the asker had already read a bit about atoms and elements.)

We have started up to school now for a couple weeks, and Rachel is officially in kindergarten. Well, for reading she's in first grade, but she's only doing four subjects a day and is done in about an hour.

Dale's math "problem" has been kind of resolved. I'm looking ahead in the math book to avoid redundant pages, for one. Only doing one page a day as well. Those new habits have helped. We also found and bought a Soma cube and a tangram puzzle set, which Madeleine is also intrigued by. Won't do her any harm, either.

We had Madeleine take the CAT test this past June; her first time taking a fill-in-the-oval test. She did typical of homeschoolers--her lowest score was still a grade above. She was counted as second grade, ninth month and her "worst" score was third grade, eighth month. A couple things she topped out the meter---word analysis, spelling, social studies, and launguage expression. As to her composite for the total battery, her grade equivalent was 5.7. Yeah, this is the child who needed two years of kindergarten. And yes, I still laugh at that.

Elizabeth is fine, though carrying her around all the time is starting to take its toll. In church, I can sing or stand--not both or I get too short of breath. My next appointment is scheduled for Sept. 11. Then I'll go in on a Wednesday morning for a final check ultrasound and to schedule induction. Given this is my fifth delivery with this doc, I'm predicting a date of October 7. Five weeks to go, folks.

Last note: my "book club" partner, for those who don't know already via Facebook, is my beloved husband. We see each other regularly, we both love to read, neither of us fear big or impressive books. Last summer we both read the Harry Potter series, so why not? I brought it up to him at dinner and he seemed positive. When I told him my idea for a reading list (Kolbe's curriculum), he liked that idea too. I even went so far as to say he could choose the first book and we could alternate after that. He had ordered us each Fagle's translation of The Iliad before we got the kids in the bath that evening. Since I can gauge his enthusiasm for an idea by how quickly he acts on it, I'm thinking he really likes it.

I've squeezed in that much blogging today; let's try to get some sheets taken care of and dishes washed. A woman's work is never done...

Does this count as a "book club?"

I've long been a bit intimidated by Kolbe's book list and curriculum. I sold my husband on it because it was the education I wish I'd had, but each year we get closer to high school increased my anxiety just a smidge. No, I wasn't losing sleep about it... yet. Madeleine's only in third grade, after all.
To reduce my worries, I have picked up some of the books the kids will be reading. I could read them and understand what was going on, but I felt like I was missing something. I tried joining an online classics reading club, but that... didn't work out. To be perfectly frank, think of the level of comments on newspaper articles. Yup. Only this time on works of literature.
Being the book fiend that I am, and raising more, we hit a bookstore this weekend. The education and workbook section was right next to the children's section so I didn't even need much of my designated "browse alone" time. I found "The Well-Educated Mind: A Guide to the Classical Education You Never Had," by Susan Wise Bauer. I read the back cover and knew it was coming home.
In the first chapter, Bauer points out the study of literature has existed outside of universities for quite a long time. Women's groups would gather in someone's parlor and they'd talk about books; handwritten journals were written about them; no professors were involved (except maybe as guests like anyone else). [As I write that, I remember the salons that Richelieu tried to control back in his time. Yeah, living room lit studies have been around a while.]
She posits that all one needs is the books, an appropriate reading level, the time for the reading, a journal to record one's thoughts about the book, and someone to discuss them with. Five things, some harder than others depending on the day.
Books--library or Amazon. Easy.
Appropriate reading level--I wasn't worried, especially after the simple "paragraph test" she had on pages 25-26.
Journal--does a blog count?
Time--I've kept a list of books finished each year since Christmas arrived once and I felt downtrodden. It's been 18-24 a year.
Now, for someone to discuss them with.... [Facebook friends who already know the answer--sh!]

There's various moms' groups I belong to. Our homeschooling group is wonderful but our interests are so varied, along with our time to give to such a project. We're talking about over 200 families, folks; while there would probably be some interest, setting a time that would be good for enough of us would be trickier than I feel like dealing with. Besides, one of the wonderful aspects is we don't have required or obligatory meetings; to have a book club would kind of throw a monkey wrench into things.
The Catholic homeschooling moms' group already has a book on apologetics. The dozen or so of us has felt a need for that background, so we've already got a book.
The parish moms' group is wonderful for support for motherhood, but homeschooling... not as much. We have a wide variety of reading tastes.

Okay, Gentle Reader. Where could I go for an intelligent person, likes to read, not intimidated by big books, that I could see on a regular basis without twisting anyone's schedules out of whack? I'll keep you in suspense; put your guesses in the combox.

Just varia

More to remind myself than anyone else.

I don't know if I posted it here, but it's been elsewhere (Husband's blog, Facebook, the old-fashioned telephone, announcements by my mother) that we're expecting a girl come October, no later than the 19. Elizabeth Christina is, according to ultrasound, a little on the small side but not so much so as to engender worry. Otherwise everything is textbook and problem-free. Aside from having twenty extra pounds strapped to my abdomen, that is. Roughly ten more weeks to go.

I've read two books in the past month. The first was Robert Spencer's Religion of Peace?: Why Christianity Is and Islam Isn't. It's a delightfully un-PC romp through the history and current status of two of the world's biggest and most influential religions. He doesn't ignore the wrongdoings of Christians, but points out that if you have to go back to the Crusades (which, if I may point out, were a defensive move to begin with--and not a pre-emptive one either) or Galileo to cite them, perhaps a more modern examination is in order. Followers of a certain other monotheistic faith are daily making the papers, and not for their missionary work. I got this book of his because I have the feeling his other stuff would keep me up at night.

The other was for my birthday last Wednesday, and I finished it over the weekend. Lenore Skenazy's Free Range Kids: Giving Our Children the Freedom We Had Without Going Nuts with Worry is a breath of fresh air. Her writing style reminds me a lot of Vicki Iovine's (another one of my favorite reality-check writing moms). She takes a common-sense approach to motherhood and protecting our children. She's pro-car-seat, -bike-helmet, and -sunscreen but thinks playgrounds where tag is outlawed are ridiculous. So she ridicules them.
I remember during my first pregnancy I picked up What to Eat When You're Expecting. I figured I had a pretty healthy diet; this would just be refining and a few tips. Whoa, was I wrong. Two chapters in or something and the discussion on the evils of white flour had me feeling like I was abusing our child and she hadn't even been born. I wept; the book went.
Here's a sample:
This is a mat you put on the bottom of the tub. Turn the water on, and if the words TOO HOT! magically appear in a bubble near the duckie's head, you know that the water is, indeed, too hot! Because who can trust her own wrists anymore?
Oh wat a sec. We all can. Dip a wrist in the water, and you yourself can tell if that water is warm, cold, or boiling hot. (Key word: YEOW!) So why on earth is there not only this heat sensitive bath mat for sale but also a competing turthle you can put in your tub that will indicate TOO HOT! too? (Not a real turtle, who would indicate that by turning into soup.)
She cites statistics, anecdotes, and real-world experiences. I laughed my way through this one and intend to lend it out to friends.
Dear husband, though, did have a quibble with her point. Where yes, stranger kidnapping is exceedingly rare (noncustodial parent being far more common), our society now has sexualized children more than in the past. The steady pornification (I think I made that word up) of the general population has made it more possible, or even acceptable, for the perverts.
He may be right, but that doesn't change the fact that a child is 40 times more likely to die in a car accident, ten times more likely to die in a fire at home, twenty times more likely to drown in a pool, and eighty or ninety times more likely to be molested by someone they know than kidnapped and murdered by a stranger. (Those are her stats, not mine; I'm cribbing from page 184.)

So now you know what else I've been up to. Gestating, reading, keeping the other kids alive. Now your turn--go. Read.

Guess what! A book review!

Yeah, and since for reasons I'll choose not to reveal, I'm pretty sure it's going to be a traffic-generator. Not like combining some celebrity with a synonym for "unclad," but still.

I received last Tuesday Mark Shea's new trilogy Mary, Mother of the Son. I finished the first volume yesterday, which gives you some idea of how difficult a slog it wasn't. Mark's new books are well-footnoted and researched but not a laborious read thanks to his engaging and witty style.

He debunks the notion that the Marian dogmas are adopted from paganism quite adeptly. He just points out, with orthodox Catholic sources from the first two centuries of Christianity, just how little the original Christians cared about what was going on in the pagan world. To compare, it's like modern Presbyterians giving one whit about theological development in Sikhism. He shows how the likes of Polycarp and Irenaeus respected the Virgin Mary, and quotes their writings about her perpetual virginity. It wasn't something the Roman Catholic Church just made up a few decades ago; that belief has been around a while. Like a couple millenia, almost.

He puts down (as in "puts to sleep," not "insults") the theory of a parallel church. What's that? The idea that a parallel Christian church, an "underground" church, has existed since the death of the apostle John, but was just biding its time until the Reformation to come out so it wouldn't get crushed by Catholicism.
The Vatican keeps records. Copious, detailed records of what was going on when. Pope Pius XII read some aloud to von Ribbentrop in perfect German when the latter was trying to intimidate the Holy Father into keeping quiet about what was going on in Nazi Germany. Further back, there are records of how the Church tried (with varying degrees of success) to theologically combat the Albigensians, Arians, Marcionites, gnosticism, Henry VIII, Marxism, socialism, and Sunday blue laws. Okay, maybe not that last.
There are no records of this "parallel church," either within the Vatican or by the mythical organization itself. It's even more fictitious than the Protocols of the Elders of Zion.

This book is like a bowl of chicken noodle soup. Not the condensed kind from a can, but homemade with big chunks of white meat, whole wheat noodles, and a pound of vegetables in two quarts of soup. It fills you up, the chicken melts in your mouth, and Mom adds just enough garlic and spices for zest. When you're done, you can feel the love from your mother warming you from the inside.
Or maybe it's the love from your Mother.

We have come to a decision.

We are bibliophiles in this place. All of us who can read, anyway, which leaves out the pets and Lou (but only temporarily). We do the best we can at the library but that whole "giving the books back" part we have trouble with.

And when I say "We have books," I'm not kidding. His alone would fill this thrice or four times over; I could probably fill that once. The kids, even though there are more of them, haven't had nearly as long nor do they know the intricacies of Amazon, though I'm guessing it's a matter of months before Madeleine gets the "one-click ordering" concept.

What is our decision? I'm getting a Kindle. That may seem backward, as he's the one with the real collection, but trust me. We've discussed this. His preferences lean toward the old and out of print. He has the whole of the translated works of Giuseppe Riccioti, and his recent favorite is Paul Heinisch. Try to find those at your local B. Dalton.
I, on the other hand, lean more toward stuff that is still in print--either because it's so new (Why GM Matters, by William J. Holstein) or because it's considered classic. I'm reading those to be prepared for the kids' curriculum. To drive home this point, Kolbe has literature courses for both upper elementary and middle school, to the tune of roughly 3 dozen books each. Nobody is expected to read all of them, but by the time all of the kids go through, I might have. There's no guarantee that all of the kids will choose the same ones from the list. Where are we supposed to store all of these books, as well as ones we choose to bring home? And don't say "library," since we can only renew once.

So, if I get a Kindle, I'll be loading it up with the classics I already have on the shelf that I've accumulated in preparation for the kids. I realize that I'll have to share the Kindle with the kids but I'm used to sharing just about everything else except my shower time. This will also leave him room for more of his obscure stuff he finds wandering the dusty shelves of used book stores, but it's a sacrifice I'm willing to make.

Today's Hilaire Belloc quote

"What the oustanding truth which this opponent of mine had not perceived was, that between himself and a Congregationalist there was not enough difference to make education in common an anomaly or an injustice, let alone unworkable. If you were a Congregationalist rich enough to get private education for your son, you would not be horrified at the proposal to have a Baptist tutor for him; nor if you were a Baptist would you be horrified by the idea of a Congregationalist tutor, but you certainly would be startled in either case at a proposal that you should get a Catholic priest to come in and put the lad through his Latin."
The Schools, Essays of a Catholic, Macmillan 1931, TAN 1992.

Book review, educational diversity, and responsibility

Now that's a mouthful of a title, isn't it?

Back in high school, I was in the "honors" or "college prep" track, mostly. Except for the last two years of math and science, that is. I graduated with six years of English and three each of math and science. Even then, I knew my strong suits.
I had Shakespeare in my background, honors government, four years of French, even a year of drawing as an elective. The Late Great Christina had very similar courses.

Years later, she ranted about our high school--"I had a high school diploma and didn't know how to balance a checkbook or shop on a budget!"
I was taken aback. I never learned to do those things, either. I didn't even know where I was supposed to have learned them. Did such classes exist?

In my subbing years, I learned they did. In our high school yet. However, they were filled with those kids counting the days until they could drop out, or deemed not academically grounded enough for more challenging classes, or suchlike. Those kids I passed in the hall, whose names I sort of knew, but never really had enough in common with to actually talk to.
Why did those kids need that information and I didn't? Did college-bound students have a greater likelihood of not needing to know?

I've come to the realization that it's not up to the schools to teach children everything they need to know to be successful in life. That little ideal died off a long time ago--before my time, for sure. It's not up to the teachers, the catechists, the troop leaders, or peer counselors.
It's up to the parents.

Which is another reason we're homeschooling. (When will this get to the book review? Momentarily.)
Don't get me wrong, I love Kolbe Academy. Their curriculum is the framework I work with in book selection and time frames. However, they are all "college prep" and not much "vocational" or "practical"--what used to be called Home Ec. I realized that if I didn't pay attention, my kids could grow up and never learn to sew on a button or mend a rip--even an easy one on a seam.
That's where Catholic Heritage Curriculum comes in. We recently ordered our new spellers and grammar books (which I love), but I got myself a book:
Sewing with Saint Anne.
This gem starts with the very basics--threading a needle, both with a needle threader and without. There are a couple dozen projects, all rated in difficulty from beginner to advanced. The clip-art illustrations throughout are classic. The explanations and history are wonderful; technical terms like "weft" are explained and there's even a glossary.

I'm not worried now about my kids having a well-rounded education. They will be able to discuss Greek mythology while making quilts, Catholic theology while changing the oil in the car, or Aquinas while making a healthy supper. And I'm okay with that.

Okay, I'm finally motivated for this.

I've ranted before about the dumbing down of our public education system. I've wondered in my available moments about school book choices. Here's some concrete examples I can provide.

In eighth grade, my class read Paul Zindel's The Pigman and S. E. Hinton's The Outsiders. [We even watched the movie for the second.] Neither of these contain really objectionable material; they don't even have swearing if I remember right. They kiss--once--in the first; and they do drink beer. The second does have a murder but it is related not witnessed.

Not so bad. But are they literature? Are they worthy of study in school? Aren't there better things out there?

Before I'd gotten there, a class titled something like Horror Literature had read Poe, Blatty's The Exorcist, King's The Dead Zone, Levin's Stepford Wives and Rosemary's Baby, and Amityville Horror. No joke. Someone else I know studied Salinger's Catcher in the Rye in ninth grade. I have a feeling there's somebody I know who might find such an idea... problematic.

Then I read about a school district bowdlerizing Girl, Interrupted for class. Why? Again, I ask: aren't there better things out there that they don't need to tear pages out of to present in class?

Just to make me feel better (and test your memory), what's your nomination for the worst book you had to read in school? Not most boring; the one with the least redeeming value.

Mountains out of molehills

So I'm finally reading the Harry Potter books and I'm up to #5, Order of the Phoenix. I haven't seen any of the movies, which is par for the course. If I had a dime for each time I've said, "No, but I've read the book," our mortgage would be paid off.
Anyway. To all of those well-meaning, involved, caring parents who feared that the wizard boy from Privet Drive would lead their little dears into magic, spells, seances, the occult and Satan, I have one question.
ARE YOU FREAKIN' FOR REAL?! Seriously?!?!
Worry more about lead paint in your kids' toys. Or violence on television. Or the destruction of the rainforests. Or flouride in your water. Or mysterious government experiments in Area 51.

Seriously. If these are what it takes to turn children into devil worshippers, don't let them near Tolkien, Lewis, Greek mythology, Star Wars, or most fairy tales. They can't handle it.

Now, on to Wall*E. This part may contain spoilers, so...
We saw it and really enjoyed it. It's PIXAR so it's definitely pretty to look at. The story is environmental without "mental"--a good thing. There are plenty of reviews, analyzying the story's symbolism and references and meaning. I'll let you check those out on your own. I wondered how much of that the kids got, so I asked them.
"Madeleine, what's your favorite part of the movie?"
"Where he makes the thing that looks like EVE for her."
Okay, that's good. She likes the creative or gift idea.

"Rachel, what did you like about Wall*E?"
"Saying EVA!" Hmm. Maybe she'll turnout to be a Brando fan.You know, Stella! I don't think she got any of the subtle points of baptism, rebirth of hope, or consumerism, though.

"Dale, what was your favorite part of Wall*E?"
"When they're in the elevator, and the TV is saying about to kill them, and Eve shoots it and it blows up."
Well. Sometimes, it seems, an exploding TV is just that.

So I'm finally reading...

Harry Potter.

I'm the type of person who will deliberately avoid being trendy just for spite. Some of you may have picked up on that, over the years. By the time I noticed students carrying around those tomes, it was the third or fourth one and they were wildly popular. There was no way I was going to read them then.

Times change. The first one was loaned more to Dear Husband than to me, but I said I'd read it if she'd read another book I've foisted off on her.

How is it so far? Honestly, I'm really enjoying it. I was told it was "kiddish," but it's not bothering me. Then again, I've read the Little House books, a spate of fairy tales, the Mowgli stories from the Jungle Book, and three of the Narnia Chronicles in adulthood, too. [I've decided that good books are good regardless of the intended audience. If it's a "children's book" and it makes you retch to read, it probably isn't worth reading. Unless it's the hundredth time this week--then it still can be good and make you want to blind yourself to avoid reading it again. But isn't that incentive to get your child good books?]

But now, about halfway through the first one, it's good. It reminds me a bit of Douglas Adams. It's the odd turns of phrase, like where for his birthday the Durnsleys got him an old coathanger and a pair of old socks. I can almost imagine Arthur Dent coming in with a bulldozer reference, you know?

I can't comment on the while witchcraft aspect, though. It seems to me it's so obviously fiction that I find it hard to believe folks have been all shook up about it.

Fun with Amazon's datamining

Our recent orders have included:
Rikki Tikki Tavi/Yankee Doodle Cricket, White Seal/Cricket in Times Square, and The Hobbit on DVD
The Greenleaf Guide to Pharaohs of Ancient Egypt, Famous Men of Greece, and Children's Homer
Reliance of the Traveler, by Ahmad ibn Naqib al-Misri
Four of Mike Venezia's Getting to Know the World's Greatest Artists: Michaelangelo, Leonardo, Botticelli, and El Greco
The Surprising Life of a Medieval Empire, by Judith Herrin

We're expecting the next recommendations to be something like, "We recommend Haldol by the turkey baster. The only reason we have the stones to say this is because we know they have your house surrounded."
That or we'll hear about their system crashing...

Finally, the Book Meme.

Book Meme Rules

1. Pick up the nearest book (of at least 123 pages).
2. Open the book to page 123.
3. Find the fifth sentence.
4. Post the next three sentences.
5. Tag five people.

It's from Teresa Tomeo's Noise.
How can a reporter or editor do what is right when he or she is being told in writing to favor one candidate over the other by ignoring mistakes or exaggerations? On November 1, 2004, just days before the election, the Center for Media and Public Affairs (CMPA) issued an alarming study about how the media coverage, especially the major broadcast news operations, blatantly favored John Kerry. CMPA said that Kerry received the most favorable network news coverage of any presidential candidate "since CMPA began tracking election coverage in 1988."

Wow. Good thing that book is out-of-date, eh? That kind of thing could never happen again. And honestly, I think everyone I know has done this one, but if you haven't and want to, that's what the comments are for.

This is scary.

Back when Phil Hartman was on Saturday Night Live doing his Obsessive Compulsive Whatever (cook, carpenter, etc.) I didn't think those routines were funny. I knew and lived with someone like that. I didn't get it.
And when I was over in France, some French friends went to see Wayne's World--maybe the second one, but it doesn't matter. One of the girls thought it was a delightfully surreal commentary, too exaggerated to be based in reality.
"But I know people like that!" I insisted. "Really! Who live in their parents' basements and work at fast food jobs! Who play hockey in the street!"

Same applies here. Eek. Mark Shea calls it "huh-larious," but he doesn't have to live with it.
I love you, my husband.

This could be very, very expensive.

Amazon has a specifically homeschooling site.

Dear husband has his used bookstores. With the new high-speed connection, I think I have my newest friend.

I'm going to try to look at this as an opportunity to practice self-control, moderation, and ---GET OUT OF MY WAY!!

Women's Conference last month, Part 1

I had a day off last month and got to attend the Detroit archdiocese's women's conference. Two of the speakers really hit home: Bishop Daniel Flores and Immaculée Ilibagiza. In the spirit of chivalry, I'll offer my thoughts on the lady first.
She started with a joke: "I see so many women, I want to talk about shoes!" Applause. "Or husbands, or children, and you want me to talk about holocausts."
She survived the Rwandan holocaust by living--if it could be called that--in a 3' x 4' bathroom with seven other women for 91 days. They couldn't flush the toilet unless someone flushed the other in the house simultaneously. Their protector, the owner of the house, had to scavenge through the trash to find food so the servants wouldn't guess. They couldn't speak to each other and there wasn't room to sit down.
What did they do when someone filled the toilet? Or was menstruating? I suspect that ground to a halt with the near-starvation they endured, but early on...

There were neighbors--neighbors, the kind of person you used to wave to over the fence, or borrow a cup of sugar from, or visit to talk about television or children or the weather--who stood in front of the house and called her by name so they could butcher her with a machete.

After her release, she and other survivors were being escorted (on foot) to a safe zone, but before they arrived, their escorts were to leave. She stared down a man with a machete while armed with only a rosary. He backed away, humbled, and dropped the machete as he walked off. That rosary, the last gift her father gave her, was what got her through. She prayed constantly while in the bathroom. Once she counted how many times in a day she said that prayer, and it was 27.

And she forgave them. For trapping her in the bathroom, for killing all of her schoolmates, for killing her family, destroying her home. For all of it.

If she can forgive those who were trying to kill her, who forced her into that situation in order to survive, I can be a little more generous with my own forgiveness. Like letting go of the fact that my mother never played Candyland with us. Or went over our homework with us, or a million other omissions over thirty-six years.
I can forgive another person... but that's a whole 'nother post. I can let go of wrongs of years ago, quit playing the "What if?" game, torturing myself over events that never even happened.

Mark Shea has called the Christian teaching on forgiveness the most scandalous, the most challenging, the most difficult. He's right.
I'm waiting for Immaculée's book in the mail. I'll let you know on that.

Bibliophile alert

We are readers here. I remember books I had back in the day and I want them for my kids, too. I figure if I remember them twenty or thirty years later, they had to be good. Like The Best Christmas Pageant Ever (we have it--still in print, even!). Mrs. Learmont read that to us in third grade. I dated a guy who'd never heard of it, poor soul. So I made a tape of myself reading it and sent it to him as he'd taken an internship across the country. I hope he has it for his son now. The book, not the tape. Don't care about the tape.
Another I remember is The Little Leftover Witch. Mrs. Hahn read that to us in second grade and I later made my mother get us a copy that I read to pieces. It would be great to read at Halloween, like she did. Maybe next year we'll have one. [HOLY COW, I just looked that one up on Amazon. Guess I'm not the only one who remembers it fondly!]
Now I've got The Thanksgiving Treasure (Mrs. Learmont again, but in fifth grade) bumping around in my head. I think there was even a TV special about this one but I don't remember actually watching it.

You know, just about every day I'm reminded of what a blessing it is I married the guy I did. He actually understands this book thing.

Book review

So you know we're homeschooling. We have a pretty comprehensive curriculum and I like to think the kids are pretty active outside of home, with swim class, soccer, dance, and park days or other field trips. One of the areas I feel a little weak in is their art background.

We've got the Mommy, it's a Renoir! or Miniature Masterpieces or whatever the one is with the postcard matching. It seems designed by someone with OCD, frankly, and I question how much my kids were getting out of it. Besides, I'm worried more about their creativity than recognizing someone else's.

I keep them stocked with crayons, markers, construction paper, glitter glue, and scissors. They get regular infusions of stickers, too (thanks, Mom!). I try to get out the play-doh regularly and I plan to get out my iron for a third time in Madeleine's life to do the wax paper and leaves thing. I was a camp counselor for seven summers, but they aren't ready for so many of those crafts and they're expensive on a small scale! The kits from arts and crafts stores aren't much better, especially when you consider they're single-use. So what else can I do?

I got an answer. On our Friday night date, after dinner we went book shopping. Yes, that's our idea of a good time. I picked up Kath Smith and Charlotte Stowell's Fun Things to Make and Do. I just read the first page but didn't go any farther than that. It was on the bargain shelves in the kids' section (where I admittedly spent most of my wander-time--what mother wouldn't?).

Let me say that even if you aren't homeschooling, this is a fantastic book of kids' crafts. One is making your own puzzle by gluing a picture to cardstock. Yeah, that's an easy and simple one, but how many of you have done or thought of it? Then there's the spiders from plastic dish scrubbers, pipe cleaners, and googly eyes. Rachel was thrilled that hers was all pink except for the red glitter glue.

One of the best things about this book is the picture directory at the back. Madeleine has already selected a few she wants to do, and Dale has a favorite. None of these involve a great expense, either. A package of straws, paper plates, camembert cheese boxes... I'm in love.

I see the splatter monsters by Hallowe'en, and we'll be making the foil balls for Christmas. The straw danglers and the window lights are on my list, too. What am I talking about?

Buy the book.

It's from the same folks that brought you these.

Is hindsight really 20/20?

Three times in the past month I've had reason to reflect on history, the passage of time, and the distortions foisted off on it. In the order they've happened to me:

Episode the First
I recently finished Stanton's Ty and the Babe. I wondered as I read it about how Ty Cobb and Babe Ruth have been treated since the end of their careers (and lives). Cobb wasn't demonized until much later, deemed a dirty, racist, mean-spirited, almost outright evil baseball player, and that's just on the field. Ruth, on the other hand, has been portrayed as a "Hail-well-met" friendly guy, a gift right from God to baseball. Huh?
Maybe if Cobb had stayed in Detroit, where he was well-known, instead of moving back home or to the west coast, would have helped what became of his reputation. Ruth stayed in New York. If you're looking to be or stay in the public eye, it's New York or Los Angeles.
That's a start. But when you peel back the layers, and the distortions, and the ideals of today and judge them as men of their times, it's a lot closer competition.

Episode the Second
The other night I watched History Channel's hourlong show on cannibalism. The kids were in bed. They covered the Donner Party (where they determined the actual Donners had NOT engaged in such, but the others did after the group split--much to the relief of a descendant of the Donners). And they told of the Cubans getting out of the Bay of Pigs, spending 16 days on a raft with no food or water...
Anyway, I was watching it for the third segment. It was on these prehistoric bones found in caves somewhere in Great Britain. How old were they, who put them there, what kind of bones were they, were they evidence of cannibalism?
Turns out that they're from about 3900 BC, involve human babies and animals, and yes, they're probably evidence of cannibalism. You had me until this point.
One of the "experts" is trying to explain it from a modern perspective, and said something like this. "The location is about where neoliths, who were farmers, clashed with the mesoliths, who were hunter-gatherers. The mesos saw their own way of life ending, of dying off, so they decided what more brutal statement opposing their enemies' way of life than to consume their offspring? How more obvious could they be when watching their own way of life coming to an end?"
Ooookay. It's really nice to give these mesoliths all of this planning and long-term thinking. I thought vegans had a new idea with their diet-as-political-statement. On these prehistoric folks, I'm thinking of Occam's Razor--they were just mean, nasty people who'd eat anything including the babies of those who had ruined their hunting grounds. They were angry at the neoliths for destroying their hunting territory by farming and thought they'd get revenge. "Hey, you made it tough for us to get meat. Look, we found some!" They idea that they'd think any further ahead than their next meal, where they'd sleep that night, maybe the next day sometime is a tremendous overstatement.
I could be wrong. After all, they did come after Lascaux's artists.

Episode the Third
It's on the Church and Galileo. I know, "everybody knows" the Church punished Galileo for teaching heliocentrism. If that's what it did, prima facie, yes. But did it? Why? What else was going on in the world at the time that it would do such a thing?
If the Church condemned Galileo in an attempt to defend Scripture at a time when popular opinion was the Church doesn't care about Scripture, it makes a little more sense. If it condemned Galileo not for teaching or writing about heliocentrism but about having a heretical attitude about the Church and using astronomy and heliocentrism as a stick to beat the Church with, it makes sense too.

So... How much history is what we know to be accurate, and how much is us projecting our early-21st-century ideas on to the past? Was Ty Cobb a racist or was he no worse (or better) than others of his time and place? Were mesolithic peoples really able to project into the future and see that this 'farming' thing meant the end of their civilization (such as it was) as they knew it? And what really happened with the Church and Galileo?

Seriously, if anyone reading this knows of a good layman's book on the whole Galileo thing, put it in the comments box. Christmas is coming. Even if it's out of print--that just means a challenge to my beloved husband.

At the library

All of us, even Daddy, went to the library today.

Now, I'm of two minds when it comes to the library. It's a wealth of free resources for myself and the kids, for out-of-print books, and others the kids won't mind giving back. They have books and videos on every topic: history, fiction, geography, science, there are even math texts. It's a money- and space-saver.
Unless you don't get the books and videos back on time. I had a fine this summer of over $25, and today we forked over $7. What keeps me from flinching too much is 1) the money stays in the library system, and 2) the very kind librarian renewed the book on mosquitoes that Rachel insisted on getting last time and Madeleine had forgotten to replace in the backpack.
I could say "I pay my taxes, that's enough to support the library!" But it's also a nice teachable moment of justice and responsibility.
I personally don't like giving books back. I think the kids have that, too, since we've renewed as often as checking out afresh. Whatever, I guess; we don't have a limit around here. [Question to other parents: do you limit how many books your kids can take out of the library? Is age a good number?]

But today, we got out books on castles, the Middle Ages, water (Rachel's pick), motorcycles, Winston Churchill, boats, renewed two on ballet, and Elizabeth I. The only one for me is the Elizabeth, and Daddy didn't get any. And those are the ones I can think of without actually going in their room to see. Madeleine checked out on her own card The Hobbit (VHS), Halloween is Grinch Night (VHS), a book on Louis Braille, another on Mount Rushmore, The Black Stallion, and three or four other fiction books.
One of the librarians believes that kids should have their own cards as soon as they can write their name. Why not?

I looked at some on homeschooling. I decided against them since I feel like I have a grip on it. For now. No book is going to help me with the questions I have. [If Madeleine is mostly in first grade, but has some second grade subjects, should I give a grade for the second grade subjects or wait until she's 7? And what's a fair workload for Dale? He'd be in preschool if we weren't homeschooling. If he's already telling me the letter sounds (thanks, Shelly), starting to read, and halfway through the kindergarten math book, is three pages four times a week fair? Four pages, thrice? How much with math, how much with phonics? Or is a time limit in the seat better? I won't find those answers in a book.]

So. That was our family adventure today. And Madeleine even found the mosquito book on Dale's bunk after we got home.

Light posting, I know.

We've been trying to start school, the holiday weekend, the last reunion this one, beautiful weather calling us outside... You know the story.
Which doesn't mean I haven't been mulling posts to get your opinion. Here are some questions that have been entertaining me while I wash dishes and wetjet the kitchen.

1. Do I feel like I'm starting over with this motherhood thing because Louis will be back at square one while the others are all fairly self-sufficient? They can all use the toilet and dress themselves on their own (or almost). They can all walk, feed themselves, and sleep through the night.
It's not like I'm turning them back in, though. I get to keep them. Even if I did have to turn them in, I'm a lot wiser than I was six years ago in this motherhood thing. I feel like I'm just continuing down the same path instead of starting over.
I know it will be tough, though. I think that's one of the contributing factors to the prevalence of only two children. "I forgot how hard this is! Trying to take care of a newborn/infant and preschooler! Eek! I can't do this again a third time!" Where if you have them closer together, you're less likely to think of yourself as "done" with any particular phase.

2. Kathy Schaidle had a post or two on the "new catholicism" and, in a word, fashion. It resonated. I can say I have in recent months started to dress more "modestly" with more and longer skirts. I've never really been a follower of the trendy, though. (Those who have known me for years--stop laughing at the understatement.) Is it possible to dress modestly and fashionably? I think so but it's not always easy.
Then summer hit and I'm pregnant. We don't have it in the budget to start over with maternity clothes (which it would be, with getting rid of the shorts, etc). And have you tried looking for modest, fashionable, inexpensive, maternity clothes for summer? Heh. I think it's tougher than trying to find maternity clothes with nursing access. Can you say 'niche market,' Gentle Reader?

3. I haven't put it in the sidebar, but I'm reading Tom Stanton's Ty and the Babe. My father believed Ty Cobb was the greatest player ever, though being born in 1935 he never actually saw him play. He did hate the Yankees, wanting them to finish in last place for 30 years and then go on a losing streak. He raised us with the same ethos.
I'm getting some insight into my dad's belief and can feel him reading over my shoulder. See? That's what makes a good ball player. He wasn't the complete @$$hole he's portrayed as now. I see the fierce competitor, but not the villain.
I'm wondering about Babe Ruth, too. Was he good for baseball? In the short term, he brought in the crowds which meant money. But he changed the game and created the demand which is entirely possible to have brought us the steroid controversy we get to deal with today.

There you go. Children, fashion, sports. Enough variety for all!