Parent Teacher Conference Report

Caution:  this girl has been homeschooled.

Last week was parent teacher conferences in our neck of the woods.  We visited Emma's teacher first.  When we asked her how Emma was doing she said,  "I was really surprised.  I didn't know what to expect since Emma was homeschooled but she's doing fine."

Thanks...I guess.

My favorite part of Braeden's conferences was meeting with his band teacher.  He asked Adam and me if we were musicians.  We said, "Not really."

He looked at my burly husband and decided a football analogy was in order.  He talked about how on a football team, everyone needed to work together and that's how band was as opposed to say, a math class.

Luckily he used small enough words that Adam could understand.

When we mentioned to Braeden's teachers that he had been homeschooled, that this was his first school experience, they didn't even attempt to hide their shock.

His science teacher said, "You would never have guessed!  He's so...social!  He does so well!  He participates in class."

His P.E. teacher said, "Well, you can't even tell he was homeschooled.  That's a credit to you I guess.  Usually homeschooled kids are whiny...I mean... aggressive and can't do things."

Really?

I kind of didn't know how to take all the shock and horror regarding his homeschooling...the "compliments" that you can't even tell.  I guess we're beating the odds somehow.  What did they expect?  That the poor homeschooled kid would walk into walls and trip over his shoelaces?

It's OK though.

I didn't ever decide to homeschool to impress people (that would have been a failure!).  Not even middle school teachers.

What Do Picasso and Chief Seattle Have in Common?

We played hooky yesterday.  I forgot to even call Emma's school to tell them.  There was a message on my machine when I got home.  Apparently, "the absence will remain unexcused until they hear from me."

I think if it stays unexcused for too long, they'll take away my birthday.

But I'm just guessing.

Mark and I abandoned our school room.  Adam stayed home from work.  Braeden and Emma stayed home from school.

And then we all went to Seattle.

I drove and when Adam lets me drive in a place like Seattle he's either really really tired or out of his mind.

He was tired.

Having me drive in Seattle has a way of waking him up though.

We went to the Seattle Art Museum for the Picasso exhibit.

How could we not?

Picasso is not my favorite artist in the world but an extremely interesting one and I wanted to take the chance to show our kids the traveling exhibit.  Braeden soaked it up, listening to an audio recording.  Emma hated the crowds and was grumpy but eventually came around.  Mark, with his typical gusto, listened in on Adam's audio recording, demanding I listened to certain descriptions.  He pushed and pulled me to look at what he wanted to show me and was cautioned 3,476,893 times not to touch anything.

Towards the end he said, "Mom, you're going to think this is crazy, but I'm not sure art is my thing.  I think sculpture is my thing."

(It was OK; I already thought Mark was crazy.)

We wandered through SAM for awhile.  Mark and I needed a bathroom break and when we joined up with Adam and the other two, Braeden called, "Mark, I have to show you something."

Mark ran into the room at full speed and said, "It's #10!"

Braeden said, "I know, look!"

They skedaddled over to Mark Rothko's #10 hanging on the wall then Mark put on the brakes and on the adjacent wall, there sat Helen Frankenthaler's Buzzard's Bay.  He had just learned about both paintings last week in school.

Every once in awhile, they remember something.  And that's thrilling.

We went to lunch at a Thai restaurant, not far from the Space Needle, which overlooks the statue of Chief Seattle.

handsome guy

Mark ran laps around the statue.

Both directions.

And Braeden and Emma talked and talked.  They miss each other now that they no longer spend all of their days together.

It seemed like everything was right with the world.

All together.

from the looks of this picture I even brought some extra chins...I wouldn't have included it except for look at my cute baby boy

Wishing On Stars

The other night after rehearsing a list of worries to Adam, he encouraged me to dwell on something positive.  Something happy.

He said, "Think about our trip."

I am tagging along next week with Adam on a business trip.  I am excited, but the control freak conscientious mother in me also experiences some anxiety about the prospect as well.  Adam's saintly mother is going to stay with our children so I am not worried about them.  They'll be high-fiving as they watch me go.  There are just so many details!  I want to make everything seamless and easy for Geri.  I appreciate her so much and know my children aren't always little angels.  Also they have a lot of different directions they need to go.  Also they're not good at hanging up towels.  Or manners in general.  Also...you get the idea.

So when I think about the trip, my mind spins with details and plans I need to arrange.  (And last minute civilizing of children.)

I decided to take Adam's advice though and while Mark was busy with a math assignment, I tapped a little on my laptop and explored.

I got really excited.

One day next week will find us in New York City.  Adam will be working (a downside of business trips) and I'll be on my own.  One of my favorite on-my-own activities is to visit art museums.  (I dearly love Adam but going to art museums with him is a trying experience.  We view things at different...speeds.)  In New York I either wanted to visit the Museum of Modern Art, the Guggenheim or The Metropolitan Museum of Art.  I did a google search (was there life before google?) and found that MoMA is closest to where Adam will be.  (And the less navigating I have to do, the better.)

I had a vague notion of what was housed in MoMA, then with mounting delight, I perused the website.

Amazing!

I now have a list of the must sees.  I'm wondering if a day will be long enough.

This is there:

And this is there:

And so much more.

I saw Van Gogh's Sunflowers in London and it thrilled me.  Starry Night is at MoMA.  STARRY NIGHT!

 

For my part, I know nothing with any certainty, but the sight of the stars makes me dream.

Vincent Van Gogh

For my part I know one thing for certainty.

I'm going to enjoy the Museum of Modern Art.

At Least I'm Consistent

I almost always look like a goof in pictures.

This one is no exception.  The un-photogenic tendencies live on!

Olivia wanted a picture of my new haircut though.

And I'd do just about anything for Olivia.

(Almost anything...don't test me on that claim Olivia.)

If my eyes look puffy and neither "Big And Beautiful" nor "Smokin'" it's due to another eczema flare-up and not enough sleep.

(I didn't want you to blame Benefit Cosmetics.)

Love...True Love

I've been thinking a lot about love. There's a lot to love about love.  But, it is easy to get confused and deceived about love.

We say we love pizza. We love chocolate (of course). People also say immoral uncommitted relations are love.

We need a different word.

Something that means the real love.  Love that is so transcendent and important that it is stronger than any force.

I've noticed that in a lot of stories, love is the victor.  Real love.  The True stuff I'm talking about.  I was remembering A Wrinkle in Time which I've always enjoyed.  (I read it to my kids and they didn't enjoy it...maybe it's an acquired taste.)  Do you remember it?  Meg was able to withstand IT and fight in order to save her brother.

Love. That was what she had that IT did not have.

Madeleine L'Engle, A Wrinkle in Time

Suddenly there was a great burst of light through the Darkness. The light spread out and where it touched the Darkness the Darkness disappeared. The light spread until the patch of Dark Thing had vanished, and there was only a gentle shining, and through the shining came the stars, clear and pure.

 Madeleine L'Engle, A Wrinkle in Time

Talk about a superpower!

Do you remember this from Harry Potter?

If there is one thing Voldemort cannot understand, it is love. He didn't realize that love as powerful as your mother's for you leaves its own mark. Not a scar, no visible sign . . . to have been loved so deeply, even though the person who loved us is gone, will give us some protection forever. It is in your very skin.

Albus Dumbledore

Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone

Then there's the paramount example of real, true love:

Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for a friend.

John 15:13 

There is inconceivable power in the love Jesus Christ has for each of us.  It is what we can cling to, where we can draw strength and how we can continue on.

There is no greater love.

And that love is light and truth, peace and happiness.  Security.

And I'm grateful.

   

My People

Other things may change us, but we start and end with family.

Anthony Brandt

Saturday I talked to my brother Tabor.  He's about as delightful as anyone in this world.  I can say that because he doesn't read my blog and won't get a big head.  If you ever need a laugh, call Tabor and have him explain to you about Jim Bridger.  He'll know what I'm talking about.

I also bought Tabor a Christmas gift on Saturday.  I can't say what it is because Tabor might start reading this blog.  You never know.  He might get that bored.

I also, on Saturday, talked to my mom twice, Marianne, Olivia and Jennifer.  These are good women.  These are strong women.  These are incredibly strong women.

The house does not rest upon the ground, but upon a woman.

Mexican Proverb

(Their various houses are in good hands.)

I am tremendously blessed to have my mother and sisters.  I am further and forever blessed by the stellar women my brothers married.  I could go on and on and on.  And on. 

Life can be hard.  Hard things happen and we can get hurt and pummeled and left for near dead.

But then our family comes along.  I have been buoyed my family.  And I will do anything and everything to buoy them.

I love them.

All of them.

Even the ones that don't read my blog.

Could Have Been Taken the Wrong Way

The other day it was either me or our bedroom/bathroom. Someone was going to win. I donned old clothes, rubber gloves and put my hair in a ponytail. I was taking no prisoners.

I think I burned the entire lining of my respiratory system with the cocktail of chemicals I administered to the shower. (Lately it's been Emma's job. Remember how she's a perfectionist? I have to amend that. She's selectively a perfectionist. And trying to teach my children to work is kind of like being tortured.  Every day of my life. )

I started in one corner of our bedroom and worked my way around. Finally dealing with every odd and end that had been placed for future contemplation. (I moved one stack from the bedroom to the schoolroom for future contemplation. Rome wasn't built in a day.)

A few summers ago, the neighbors across the street from Adam's parents were moving and getting rid of furniture. I became the happy recipient of an old dresser that I fell in love with immediately. It has a mirror attached which was perhaps my favorite part. I had it unattached though because it worked better in the spaces it has occupied. What to do with the mirror though?

(besides having it sit in the corner of our bedroom)

I decided to attach it. I like the mirror. I don't like it lingering in a corner.  I enlisted Braeden's help. He said, "This is heavy.  Have you thought this through?"

I said, "Of course not. I'm just doing it."

Then I added, "Hurry, I'm leaving to pick up Emma and Mark in three minutes."

He said, "Is that enough time?"

I said, "Probably not but I'm doing it anyway."

Because when I get an idea, I'm not one to wait.*

Between us we got the behemoth thing attached. And I made it in time for Primary Program Practice Pick-up. (I just didn't really look very presentable.)

That night, in our newly clean and sparkly room, Adam and I commented on the oddity of a new mirror in our room. Seeing ourselves at a new angle.

The next morning Adam said, "So were you freaked out by seeing yourself in the mirror this morning?"

I know what he meant, was I startled by a mirror that isn't usually there?

But I know how I look in the morning. I could have taken it either way.


*Further evidence of my impromptu nature:  yesterday I decided to get 6 inches cut off my hair so I did.  Titi talked to me the whole time about Mark.  I think she likes him more than she likes me.