Bad Parents' Reading List.

Under the department of, "What were they thinking when they wrote this, and why didn't these characters lose their children or get arrested?" I'd like to chat about some odd stories. Feel free to add your own analysis or additional titles in the comments.

1. Green Eggs and Ham. Is it just me, or is Sam-I-Am harassing this poor unnamed chap? And does the dude get Stockholm Syndrome at the end or what? Although he was quite sure at the beginning of the book that he wouldn't like green eggs and ham in any location you could name, he suddenly LOVES them and thanks his stalker dude for going to all this trouble. It is out of control. Stockholm, I'm telling you. The Sam-I-Am guy runs over people with cars and presents mice and goats to him as suitable tablemates. Fer real.

2. The Clifford series. They let their grossly oversized dog roam all over the neighbourhood, causing havoc. Why is the dog-catcher or the National Guard not doing something about this dangerous animal? Just its poop alone is enough to cause a neighbourhood nuisance, nevermind what would happen if the animal got overzealous and rolled over onto someone. This is not a normal family, folks. This is some sick animal husbandry sponsored by Monsanto or something. I dunno.

3. No list would be complete without the Cat in the Hat series. WHY is Mother out and what is up with the strange guy in the outlandish hat? Every time I read this, I keep thinking the Mother should NOT be leaving her children alone and where is CPS at a time like this?

I suppose from a Freudian perspective, Mother is the absentee parent who only vaguely figures into the story (as in, "What would Mother say?"). It is also notable that the father's conspicuously absent, although he has $10 shoes just lying around in the closet. $10 was a lot of money back in the days this was written, but somehow? They couldn't afford a babysitter.

The fish. The fish is the superego, right??

Apparently, though - thanks, google - there are a whole series of lessons on how The Cat in the Hat incorporates the themes of id, ego and superego. Really. I got something like 10 pages of search results. Maybe the fish really is the superego.)

4. There are probably about 50 others. The plotline of We're Going on a Bear Hunt book Rose brought home from the children's library at the preschool demonstrates extremely poor parental judgment throughout. Just imagine taking an infant and a toddler on a bear hunt with no rifle, and traipsing through the river, the mud and the snow without appropriate protective gear. The incompetence is astounding.

But anyway, there are probably a good 50 more books out there with wackadoodle parenting. I don't get why many of the truly funny and cute books for little children seem to be so... emm - twisted? - when you think about them. I'm sure there is some psychoanalytic website that covers the "howcome," but I guess I didn't type in the right search words.

What's His REAL Name?

"MIKE!! It on a wall!" screamed Rose, jumping and pointing. Woodjie came over to look at whatever "Mike" is. I'm in the middle of bagging poopie diapers (ugh), rounding up dirty laundry and reallllly looking forward to washing my hands. With soap. You just can't stop in the middle of a job like that. It would be too hard to get back into, you see...

"Ee MIKE!" Woodjie starts to scream. They both start hopping about and screaming. "Mike! Momma, Mike! MIKE! Mike Mike Mike Mike Mike! MIIIIKE! IT ON A WALLLLL!! WOOK!"

I'm thinking, great, they're naming spiders and I'm way too busy to kill them at the present moment. Bleh... poopies tossed into garage trash, clothes thrown next to washer two floors down, run upstairs and ahhhh water time. And grab a shoe.

"OK, where's this 'Mike?'"

"WOOK!" Woodjie points to a little green scratch on the brown wall. "MIKE!"

Siiigh. "His name is MARK, Woodjie. There is a Mark on the wall."

"Ee MIKE. Wight dere," Woodjie insisted. Well, ok. I have trouble remembering names, too. I guess he's Mike now.

When I Get Bigger/ Become an Adult

(A Guest Post by Not Mercer Mayer)

When I become an adult, I'll be able to do lots of things. I will be able to drive my car whenever I want. (Oh. I will somehow magically get money for this car. And the insurance. And the gas.)

I will have lots of free time on my hands. No one will tell me what to do with my time ever again! Especially when I am a parent. I will make money off my kids (lots of it!) when they make mistakes and have to pay for something they broke or that kind of thing. I will say that it teaches them responsibility, but really, I will have my kids wipe up the kitchen table and do odd jobs because I am too lazy to do them myself.

I will be able to make calls on my very own cell phone, use my very own laptop and take pictures with my very own camera! I will be able to blog about my own experiences and I will be able to say whatever I want with no repercussions. There never are any of those when you are an adult. I think that's in the First Amendment.

I will have a great job and get an apartment. My money troubles will be over!

But right now I have to log off... because Mom and Dad say... I'm not seeing reality yet.

(Thank youuu thank youuu thank youuu. Anyone want to illustrate this book?)

Parents Just Don't Understand

Now that you parents are old and responsible, you shouldn't be thanked for anything you do. That's just something to be expected and part of your job. Quit whining all the time about being unappreciated. You need to just keep providing for your kids just as you did when they were three, but give 'em nicer toys and more freedom. Communication is so important at this age, and that means you'd also better pay attention to their sarcastic and mean comments. Maybe the fact that these poor children need to make them means you need to change something in your life. You might acknowledge that you sure aren't perfect, but that isn't enough because your kid knows wayyy more than you, you stupid old and fat person. (Did I mention you look funny?) It is their house and their rights we're talking about here. Oh. And it is a violation of their freedom of speech that you tend not to lend out your own computers, telephones and the like because you have been mocked by your disrespectful and ungrateful children. Shut up. Do you expect them to fall over themselves every time you drive them someplace? Rides and other extra things are just things you should expect from a good parent. What is wrong with you people??? Be a good parent, already, and give those kids THE RIGHTS THEY DESERVE!

It's Your Life.

Of course it is. Your parents went through a time where they wanted their own lives as well. This post is for a child whose parents love him very much. Ahh, teen years. Do you remember 'em fondly and wish you could go back? And can you believe the songs we listened to are now "oldies?"

Sunday Selections

I thought about NOT posting this, but then... how could I NOT share this happy occasion with my bloggy friends? Do you see how happy these little fellows are? They've been presented with their very OWN Polish pottery. Elf very nearly launched into orbit from giddiness; he has his very own mug with handpainted stars. And Emperor has his very own apple baker, which is now on display in the middle of our homeschooling/ dining room table. For more Sunday Selections, see Kim's blog.

Teacher Bullying

Perhaps you're looking at the title and wondering whether this would be a post about teachers bullying children or the other way 'round.  But it's about both!

I came across an interesting web article written about the problem of teacher bullying.  From other places on the web, I gleaned that about 40 percent of elementary teachers admit to bullying on anonymous surveys.  I'm not sure I buy this.  (And this is not to blame teachers only.  Please read on.)  When we discuss "bullying" and "abuse," we usually outline it as something that ought never happen and don't discuss the more subtle, "acceptable" bullying and abuse that happens every day.  The slight look.  The following the letter of the law when it's known that the transgressor simply made a mistake. The favouritism we express for one person over another and the positive FEELINGS we have for one child are going to be felt by another.  The other, less likeable child, is going to feel slighted no matter how well we think we're hiding those feelings.  Maybe often we don't mean for smaller things like this to set up a bullying climate, but it can. 

But clearly, when we have an easily-identifiable select group of teachers who are "the bullies" according to a good number of students... well... chances are that the teachers really are bullying in the classic sense of the word.  I would not hesitate to add that they are likely unaware of it.  The paper in question at no time discussed the more obvious bullying techniques of spanking, closet-locking and tying children up by teachers or staff, so I'm given to understand it's just the "look" and the mean or snide remark that can so devastate children that we're talking of here.

"In many schools – perhaps most schools – at least one or more teachers can be identified as abusive toward students. Students will be in substantial agreement about which teachers are high rate offenders. The same degree of agreement may hold true for the colleagues of these offenders. They too appear to know which colleagues are abusive. The public nature of bullying patterns increases the likelihood of consensus on those who are most extreme in their behaviors. Simply stated, the faculty and students within the institution often are in private agreement about who the few culprits are, and express deep frustration at feeling powerless to stop the problematic behavior.


"Those who bully students are not likely to be new teachers. Teachers who bully tend to be established and secure in their positions (taught five or more years). The reasons for this are not yet clear."

If I may hazard a guess, burnout is only one possible consideration.  Another is that older teachers may have less training in how to deal with the disabled children who ARE being mainstreamed through school.  Certainly the teacher who was unable to handle my son was three years from retirement.  There were many students who absolutely loved her.  And she was a good teacher... of neurotypical students without "discipline" or behaviour issues.  If you read the article I linked, you'll see that often there are students who are the "targets," and no one will defend them because they really WERE kinda bratty or naughty.  Who wants to go up to bat for someone who is perceived to be not-so-innocent? 

When we talk about "safe schools," though, I think we should also be talking about ways to make the teachers feel safe.  I think the young lady with the white beret and sarcastic talk is perfectly within her rights to say what she feels, even if it's a bit mean and unkind... but some of the other videos linked here are disturbing!  If I were a teacher, and some children were destroying effigies of me on youtube, I don't think I'd be wanting to teach them in class the next day.  I don't know how teachers negotiate their contracts or what THEY feel would be reasonable expectations of privacy and safety (so I can't particularly comment on how to "fix" this) ... but I don't think I could teach some of these kids.  At all.

And can I say that some of the comments about this being just kids getting their anger out are also disturbing?  Expressing your anger in a public place like that is just NOT ok. Punch a pillow at home and don't let others hear about it.  Good grief.  NOT ok, you guys.

Family Update

Woodjie

Guess what Woodjie can do? Yup. He can go potty!

Well, a little. He still wears a diaper. He still has to be assisted. He doesn't talk, so I just time about an hour and take him. Like the rest of the boys, he goes wayyyyy off to the right, so you about have to stand him sideways and hold things in place.

He loves to flush. Our water bill is pretty high now, as you can well imagine. But he doesn't understand about the poop thing. At all. I am still working on not doing the "shakeshakeshake... shakeshakeshake... shake your little weeeeener" dance too early for obvious reasons.

Was that TMI or what? I was chatting with one ol' college friend today who told me that nothing can be TMI if you've already typed it on your facebook page. He's a very funny guy. *waves at friend because I know he's reading* :)

Elf and Emperor

They're taking swimming lessons at the local community center with mostly four- and five-year-olds. They haven't noticed yet. Or they don't care. They're just there to learn how to swim and seem pretty serious about it. Emperor has a very hard time straightening his legs and kicking. I'm thinking it's the same lack of control that prevents his handwriting from being the neatest. Speaking of which...

They're typing. A little. They have learned how to use the home keys and the top QWERTY row. They tried Typer Shark and were amazed at how quickly they got eaten by the fishes. If you have AOL as we do, you can play for free by going to the "games" part of your welcome screen and searching for "Typer Shark." Their rating: chum.

G

Not sure what to do with this boy. He has continued to punch walls and remove his cast while his broken hand was healing. He now has a lump where the bones didn't heal right. I'm mad at the ER doctor for not casting it, at the orthopaedist for not casting it, and at G for not FOLLOWING THE STUPID INSTRUCTIONS to leave his cast on except for bathing, and to take it easy. Arrrg.

I guess his hand is as healed as it is ever going to be. It's hard to see your kids make choices that are not in their own best interests.

Patrick

... is going to CHINA in June with the school orchestra. Yep. He's raised $1500, despite not having a job, by going door to door selling tickets, shovelling snow, and babysitting. Mostly babysitting. He gets $5 an hour. How many people do YOU know who can pay $5 an hour (plus $2 per poopie change) and have good, reliable care for four other children, two of whom are autistic? Oh! And said teen takes the quirks of each child into consideration. I have a good deal going on.

Music lessons are also $5 an hour. Can YOU get music lessons from a knowledgeable teenage scholar, for TWO children, for $5 an hour? Bargain time! I wish I had a big boodle of money and an extra Patrick. Then I could have childcare for the younger ones AND music lessons at the same time. No. I want three Patricks, because the third one needs to clean my house. He refuses to do toilets, though, but I guess we all have our limits. :)

Miss Pretty Pretty

Rose is still a "speech kid" for the most part because she rarely speaks and when she does, it's usually mm-MMM! (as in "no") or a one-word utterance that only people in the family understand. Still, she is learning her colours and knows two letters. She sleeps in a big bed but must have her low-ahs (stuffed flowers) and dolls and other assorted pillows in with her. She must be tucked in a certain way, too. We discovered that one night when she fell out.

Teen Fun at the Mrs. C House

Whoever said that "life's a b*$$ and then you die" was wrong. The correct saying, my friends, is that "life is an autistic teenager and then you clean up the stupid pieces of the stuff he's breaking everywhere so no one cuts their feet open on the shards. Then you go and try to convince him that this is not ALL Mom and Dad's fault when HE was the one throwing it. And YES I mean to punish you even though it was your stuff that got broken! And JUST because Mom and/or Dad said something that made you angry, does NOT mean you have the right to act like a wompus-brain."

Well, ok. Maybe the first saying is a little more concise and universally applicable. Anyway... Thanksgiving (and for that matter, many days!) at our house look more like Stuart Smalley's descriptions of family life than normal everyday livin'. So say a prayer, would ya? G actually went to bed at 7:30 because causing a ruckus on a regular basis can get doggone exhausting. I'm up past 11 p.m. because living with a ruckus can set you on edge. I feel doggone exhausted in the morning, but the "nuggets are tough" as I tell my children when life doesn't go their way.

Now on to Patrick. We love Patrick. Momma's sweet little Patrick hurt his thumb terribly badly at school a few weeks back. I got a VERY concerned call from the high school school nurse. Now, how bad do things have to be for the high school nurse to see a male child in the office AND be allowed by said child to call his home? Pretty bad (if you didn't know the answer). We ran off to the doctor for x-rays and I was pretty worried. What does he MEAN, he's "not sure" how he hurt it? This could be serious, folks.

And in fact, it was just a sprain. But some young man was unable to do jobs properly for a couple weeks and was in some genuine pain. It troubled me that he had no clue how this happened.

Did you know Patrick has a blog? I'm not allowed to link to it, but you could probably figure it out if you click around diligenly enough and/or know his real first name. Anyway, it's mostly silly stuff such as how to draw smilies, yo mama jokes and some guy winning the Nobel Peace Prize:

"Warning: Any references to major political characters are completely unintentional, please do not be offended.

Warning: Coffee may be hot

Joebama sat and twiddled his fingers. He was forced to sit and watch another loser get the Glodal Peace Prize. He wanted to get back home and play video games. His favorite video game was, by far, World of Warcraft. He loved wrecking havoc on poor souls by declaring war. This also helped his career as Military Chief Assassin.

Just then, out of the blue, came a voice from heaven. "Purely for the sake of irony, I decree Joebama shall win the coveted Global Peace Prize."

Then, everyone applauded and bowed to the great and mighty Joebama. He strode to the stage where some old person gave him his prize.

"Thank You!" Joebama shouted to the microphone, "I deserve this award, you don't. The end. But I didn't do it alone. I would like to thank all those fools... uh... people who voted me supreme chancellor in time of war."

"Here is your money." the old guy said, trying to hand millions of dollars in small bills.

"You can keep it, sucker. I'm the president, I can just steal... uh... tax the people."And with that, he ran from the stage, out the doors, and to the White House, with his bodyguards still trying to catch up.

/end quote.

YES, this is the sort of humour we must deal with on a regular basis, and it knows no political or religious boundaries. Annnyway... he has a blog. And I see his friend, who also has a blog, is following his blog.

I am a stalker mom or something, because I trailed over to the friend's blog and watched allll the videos his buddy was posting. And...

THE HURT THUMB MYSTERY IS SOLVED! But not as I would have expected. Momma's sweet little Patrick-woozle, snuzzle muffin cuddle dude, was ON FILM bullying this other kid on several occasions. No kidding. It's a good thing the high school doesn't have this or he'd be suspended or something. The other kid? After many threats, just slammed his hand down onto the table. "OW MY THUMB!" is audible there somewhere.

I have half a mind to make the kid pay the medical bills and reimburse me for my time and trouble, taking his sorry butt to the doctor. But I'm more upset that he wasn't kind in the video. D says boys are all like that at that age.

(Do I still have a chance to raise Elf and Emperor better than this? Gracious, bad week for old Mom!)

In other news, "your face" is a big comeback among the teen set. For reallio. So. Say you're talking about chicken nuggets and how many are in a 10 piece chicken nugget meal.

"Chicken nuggets? Yo FACE is chicken nuggets!"

Now see how that really made you feel insulted and inferior? It's almost like the "your face" argument is an automatic verbal-boxing winner. Of course, I'm old-fashioned and am more partial to the "I'm rubber, you're glue" standby.

Social Skills Training for Autistic Children

I've been thinking of ways to do this, but I'm lost. My younger children don't go to public school because the staff isn't able to handle the children in a way that I feel recognizes their humanity. That being said, there really IS some socialization that my children are missing out on here at home.

YES, I know that all the homeschool readers here just howled. YES, I know that all y'all homeschoolers are great and join band, and co-op classes, and that your kids play softball and soccer and visit their cousins twice a week and that your kids have friends over after their schoolwork is done every day... yes, I know that.

But let's talk about MY family for a moment. Elf runs away when he is overwhelmed. Woodjie runs because he's two. S has a horrible high-pitched scream. She's probably neurotypical, but she's smart. Too smart. She has figured out that when she does this in quiet places, people come to pay attention to her.

Then there's Emperor. We love Emperor, but he will sometimes run up and HUG people and smell them. He will then tell them whether they smell like cigarette smoke or bananas or whatever pops into his mind while he is rubbing his nose all over them. Actually he's gotten a fair bit better about this and actually had the audacity to be EMBARRASSED that I mentioned this was a problem lately. So, I guess we're making progress.

But I avoid going out if I can. The more I avoid going out, the more obvious these behaviours become as my children age. Terrible cycle. But I'm just one person and don't know what else to do.

I try doing the "going over the rules" thing when we're in the van. Inevitably, I will leave out something important like "don't pick your wedgie in public" or "no rolling on the floor." Especially fun was the time Emperor informed EVERYONE in a crowded room that there were naked people over there in that pool. He knows this because he saw someone's LEG! And it didn't have pants on! It was just skin! Come lookit over here!!!! (A little four-year-old goes over to peek, and I get to "redirect" the conversation.)

I know that most people don't deal with this sort of strangeness on a daily basis, but I also know that I'm not alone. Maddy recently posted on one of her autistic sons' joining in some friendly punching on the playground and how things can get out of control quickly:

"There is the chance that he will join in and either punch his brother, or worse still, punch one of the little boys. It’s just the kind of thing that we hear about in the media:- ‘autistic child caught in unprovoked and mindless attack on innocent toddler.’ There’s never a back story. Sometimes the back story comes later, but it’s the headline that sticks in the mind of the public. It’s not dislodged, erased or superceded. As a result the public is left with a random collection of negative assumptions to apply to the autistic population, a general shorthand. Each additional headline loads another brick in the wall of segregation, isolation and mis-information."

Yes, it does. But I also know that every now and then, people are ready to learn something new. Every now and then, someone discovers that one of my children (pick one LOL) is autistic and displays surprise. I think that despite the fact that there are several characteristics that autistic people generally share, there are a great number of idiosyncracies that each one expresses.

One of the missionaries who came to speak at our church today demonstrated three axes. One is a ceremonial axe carried by the local leaders to look "cool." And it really was a gorgeous piece of workmanship. Another, a big hefty chunk of an axe, was for chopping firewood. Still another tiny axe wasn't a kid's axe as I thought... it was an axe for chipping at wood when one is carving statues and the like. All three are axes, but they serve different purposes.

I can't help but think that we do as well. We are all of us made in the image of God, but have different callings upon our lives. Right now, one of my biggest struggles is to try to integrate Elf and his brothers into the "real world," which doesn't always make accomodations. More on this some other time, but I pause to hear your thoughts.

How I Take Care of My Children.

If you're not beating your kid *right in front of me* or locking him in a hot car and walking away, I don't care what you do. Want to marry your daughter off at 13 to some weirdo on the compound? Well, have a nice life. Your decision. I guess I'm more pro-choice than some other people who bandy that title about. I think if the kid's hit puberty, she can get married just as well as have sex in the public school stairwell (no, I'm not linking to that story).

Since when did we as a society evolve from the idea that you should take care of your kids your own way and good luck to ya... to "take care of your kids the way the school, doctors, and assorted nosy people like or you'll lose 'em if you don't?" It bothers me.

You know, when I had my younger two children at the hospital, did you know they would not physically let us go until they'd SEEN the car seat in the van and SEEN how the child is strapped in? Oh, boy. That gets me really mad. It's not their kid! It's not their flipping business if I have buckled the child in well or not. Once the child is out of the hospital, it should be ZERO concern of yours. But I don't specially want nosy DFS people at my door. And I was gonna buckle the kid in anyway. So fine, go look. Grr.

We have a Ford Taurus station wagon and when the kids were small I'd tell Patrick and G to go get into the trunk so we could get going somewhere. It's kinda fun to see people's eyes pop out and snoopy nosy-noses pointing back over at your car until (drat!) they realize that the children are nicely buckled in a real seat in a real car.

We had a lot of fun in that vehicle until the state started messin' with our lives. New law came out stating that all children under 8 had to be in a booster seat unless they were, like, six feet tall and 185 pounds. You know, stuff that would be impossible to have really happen before the kid is 8 unless he's doping steroids or something. The back rear-facing seats you specifically can NOT put baby seats in or use booster seats with. So the car became USELESS to us unless we pushed things and brought smaller children to sit in the front. It was way safer the way we were doing things before.

We bought our van right about then. Every now and then, though, if the van needed servicing we'd either have to drive illegally, do the "leave the kids at home, hurryhurryhurry and pray they're all there when you get back" thing or find someone to watch them (HA! Ok, that was good.)

And so it is with school as well. D tells me to QUIT telling people that my younger children don't go to school. Just say they're homeschooled and show the record books and portfolios and have your kids recite the Pledge of Allegiance right there and ... Ok, mildly exaggerating. But you know what? It's none, none, NONE of your business if my children go to school or not.

My middle children don't go to school.

I was asking our eye doctor where I could find some low-cost eye screenings for Elf and Emperor next year. I'm thinking Elf will be nine and it would be nice to just get a little "can you read this line?" kind of screening to make sure he's seeing well. It isn't like he'd be having trouble reading the blackboard, so I just want to cover all the bases there.

Ah, he tells me, the school should have told you all about this. You're REQUIRED to get a screening from a LICENCED opthamologist, don't you know?

No, I didn't. That was nice of our lawmakers to do. Didn't cost them a penny, either, and only think how that would help the economy in employing those starving opthamologists and makers of nerdy kid glasses. But you see, I didn't know this information because

My kids don't go to school.

OH! They're homeschooled?

And I'm tempted to say, no, they're not educated at all but are being raised by wild wolves in my back yard. Good enough for Romulus and Remus. Ok, but I don't. He's a nice guy and I tell him yes, they're homeschooled.

I've been reading in the news about parents who are taken to court and charged with murder and neglect for not doing exactly what the doctors want with their children. I think it's a very slippery slope there. SURE, wouldn't it be nice if all moms and dads had common sense and we all agreed on when "prayer" is the answer and when medicine is the only way to go?

But we don't all agree. So I think we should butt out of people's lives so long as they're not endangering anyone else. And I don't mean their kids; I mean OTHER people's kids.

Once we get into letting the doctors make all our parenting decisions, we can be very certain that children will receive lots of expensive treatment they don't need, and in the cases of terminal illness, will miss out on their last few moments undisturbed at home. They'll just have extreme measures taken in some hospital bed instead of spending time with their families outside or cuddled on the living room couch. Costly, expensive things that might or might not prolong life.

HEY, you say, but what about the children who die who could have been saved with a simple antibiotic or blah blah blah?

Well, you have me. So, we should just let doctors make the final decision always, right? Or maybe I should get the right to say that YOUR kid can't skateboard because of the zillion head injuries caused by skateboarding each year? It's only for your child's good, and if we can save *just one life* through good legislation, we'll all go away knowing good has been done here.

So, no skating. No smoking near your kid. Your children must have eye and ear exams yearly with super-specialists who cost about $100 an hour (and by the way... an hour is now 5 minutes long... but only when the doctor is in the room), and you must visit the dentist twice a year and your kids *better* remember to floss and they can't be overweight. Or else. But that listening to obscene lyrics and dressing your infant like a street-crawler? That's ok.

I think we intertwine "concern" and the "law" too deeply.

Here You Go. I'll Share.

Dad also had to take the girl away from the little pile of Cheerios he left out for Woodjie because she was starting to look like a chipmunk.

Birthday Cake.

Girls are always sweet and demure. They eat their food neatly and pleasantly without mwwam *snort* mmm sounds or food-throwing. Elf and Emperor were given a box of cake mix, a dozen eggs, vegetable oil and a measuring cup and told to make the cake themselves. All I did was put it in the oven. D gave them a grade of only a B plus because the cake did not have an interesting shape. Rectangles, apparently, are not interesting enough. I think to get an A, the cake had to be multi-tiered and decorated in italic frosting script. We'll just take the B. :]

Assorted Thoughts.

I feel like I must be more specific in all my dealings with children. Every utterance must have several subparagraphs covering each eventuality and what to do in every case. When I speak, no matter how urgent the request, I must keep my tone even and THEN I must be understanding when someone "didn't hear" me speak. (several times) Any misunderstandings are always, always MY fault.

Oh! And I am not allowed to make up new rules. That wouldn't be "fair."

This entire week, I've had Patrick and G stumble out of bed at 6:30, pack a ziplock of breakfast cereal and their lunch, brush their teeth and run out the door. Prayers are unsaid. I get zero help with dishes and getting the other children ready for their day. In short, I feel treated unfairly. Bet God does, too. But, I know my limits and unless GOD comes down and changes things 'round, in our family unless we sit down and pray in the morning, it just plain old isn't happening. Sorry, God.

The "rule" is that you must be up, dressed, lunch packed and breakfast made by 6:10 or bedtime's at 8 p.m. Now, *just* because I haven't enforced this rule, doesn't mean I can't clamp down and put it back into effect any ol' time. Just because you get away with something for a while because Mom doesn't want to be a mean nag and she gives grace sometimes, doesn't mean that the sixth time you pull it that there aren't consequences. And I can't clean the kitchen, wash and change children, straighten the homeschool stuff and settle everyone down for the day within ten minutes so that we begin homeschool on time and be ready for therapy at the SAME TIME that I'm watching everybody.

Just so you know. We're getting to the point where Mom is going to charge you $2 for school lunches because the kitchen MUST close at 6:40 if I'm to get my work done on time. That's all I'd need when the therapist arrives, bunches of peanut butter and sandwich bread all over my kitchen, the children unchanged and smelling of last night's potty diapers... my Elf's hair uncombed and everywhere, cereal on the table and assorted dirty dishes. Laundry not started. Beds unmade. Hey, some days "cleaning the bathroom" means flushing the toilet and making sure there's a clean towel, ok? So Mom's going to start clamping down soon because you guys don't seem to get this "grace" thing. You're given "grace" because I know you're not perfect (not being perfect myself) and it's not meant to be license for you to do whatever you want and leave me in the lurch for everything. I want YOUR stuff done by 6:30, you can watch the children for ten minutes while I clean the kitchen and make the beds, we pray for five minutes and then out the door you go. IS THAT TOO MUCH TO ASK???!! WAAAH!

I hate being like that, though. Everyone can have a bad day and I let things slide sometimes. But it's getting ridiculous and I'm almost always the person who picks up the slack. I say "almost always" and not "always" because out of perhaps a billion toilet paper roll changes or after-breakfast kitchen cleanups or whatever, someone might do this job once or twice. This loses me the "always" claim. Sigh. I hate grammar at times like this.

Suppose you really have to go to the bathroom for 20 minutes right after dinner and can't help Mom with a toddler downstairs so she can watch the baby, who's still eating. Stuff like that happens, but it isn't very safe for me to leave the baby, run and peek at the toddler, and run back to the baby etc. all the time. Soon Mom becomes the meanie and says QUIT going to the bathroom right after dinner. But from their side, what kind of nasty person doesn't let you go potty fer crying out loud? (Um, the mom who sees her toddler can rock the booster seat and is dangerous there after eating, but doesn't want the baby to starve when she sends the toddler downstairs. That's who.)

Well, I'm just blowing off steam here. What will probably happen is that I'll make up some new rule that no one will follow, and I'll be disrespected when I try to enforce it. Yes, these are my children. Yes, I suppose I totally am a bad parent that my children don't fall into line right away with instant, *cheerful* obedience. Sorry to disappoint you. Frankly, I have disappointed myself. However, that being said, I can't force obedience from children who are still taller than me when they are slouching.

I can sure make their lives miserable, though. That alone gives me hope. :] OK, thanks for listening to that part of the post. I try to console myself that at least my kids aren't driving and doing drugs, but Patrick is a smartie and says, "How do you know any of that? You don't KNOW." Ok, I'm guessing based on available evidence. The children get $2 per week allowance, which I don't suppose buys much cocaine in today's market, let alone lots of gas money and a car I don't know about. Plus they come home from school every day. So, unless the school lets the kids out for drugs and cruisin' time, I'm pretty assured not much of that is going on. Hey, public schools are NOT that bad in this area. Things could be a lot worse. Maybe they are some places.

In other news, Elf has been "resistant" to getting his hair combed. This has been quite the battle and results in extreme difficulty when we finally have to go somewhere. I've gotten to the point where I've told the child that you WILL get your hair combed every morning after breakfast. He hates it. But without that habit there, things get difficult and Elf doesn't do the combing well himself. I would like to hand these chores over to the younger children and they can be responsible for combing their own hair, clipping their own nails, and etc. I think the older children took these tasks upon themselves at an earlier age, but I'm not sure how I made them do this. Elf is very upset even at the idea of going into the shower. Screaming and fighting and literally freaking out. I can't force a naked child into a wet box like that or he might break a leg. He is afraid of the enclosed space and I don't want to traumatize him. So he must have a bath. He's allergic to many soaps. So it's baby shampoo. Just tell me what that looks like to an "outsider," that I have a child who is almost nine who insists he is an Elf and must be bathed in the tub with his ducky and baby shampoo. Go ahead and say it. :]

I have posted a post-it note with all the steps to taking a bath in the tub for Elf and Emperor and things worked well for a while before the note lost its sticky. I need to make another one of these so the children don't need MOM constantly. But on the sticky note, you can't just write "take a bath" or "wash your hair." Here's what I wrote:

Look for a towel. (That's a big step, ok?!)
Pull plug shut
Turn on water
Wet hair
Shampoo on hair
Rinse hair
knees, feet, butt (that means take a washcloth and some soap and wash these areas, please!!!)
Rinse
drain
Out

Then the children can get their own clothes on, but I have to pick them out first and lay them on the bed. I'm looking forward to more progress in this area. But honestly I am having a VERY DIFFICULT time teaching Elf and Emperor to be independent. We have shoe lace puzzles, but they can't lace them. Elf is nearly nine! How am I going to do this??

Little steps.

Wish me the best as we go to church this morning and Elf is going to say "hello" to everyone. He is going to try to make eye contact with everyone who says "hi" to him today. He is going to sit nicely. Ok. I'm off to take a shower and then head out. :]

The Sexxy Kitchen

Oh, baby, you KNOW you want to cook something your whole family will enjoy here! Mmm, and look, they use Folgers Coffee (tm)! The advertisers are right; that would be the BEST part of waking up in this kitchen. Though daresay you will get roaches in your cup as well. Yummy leggy goodness. Please embiggen that last picture and note the TARP walls. In the Missouri winter, children really lived here. Yes, they did. :[

The Secret Santa.

And now, on a lighter note for a change...

My husband pulled me aside while I was folding laundry. You know about what Patrick is doing at school, right? The "Secret Santa?" Um, no. But it looks like all the children have had their names exchanged in some sort of "Secret Santa" drawing. You're supposed to give small, inexpensive gifts to your secret pal all week. That's fine. Whatever.

But do you know what he's giving? he asks. And he told me. Now I kinda think Patrick has been taking the idea of "small, inexpensive gifts" to a new level.

You know, he has already started a business of picking up dropped pencils throughout the school and selling them for a dime each to forgetful students. He trash-can dives at the end of the last school day of the year and picks up about 500 notebooks halfway-used. Halfway broken binders, bent up and frazzled at the edges. Well, you get the idea. He's kind of the walking junk man at the school and people I suppose feel sorry for him and buy used pencils from the boy. He made somewhere between $20 and $25 all told through the course of the year by doing this, though.

Anyway... suffice to say Patrick is a little socially not-so-adept. He actually is on some YouTube video other kids shot of him, and the comments all over about how nerdy he is, how silly...

Poor guy, but at least it's not nekkid pics in the gym or anything. Not that that would be possible because the child will not let anyone see his legs. He wraps himself in a towel while undressing IN THE SHOWERS. OK, he's eccentric. I mean, *really* eccentric. No one can touch his plates or breathe near him eccentric.

But the "Secret Santa" gifts. Do you know what he's giving?

Specially selected halfway used pencils he's found on the floor all year. Broken erasers. AH! But the big present finale is coming up soon... Patrick has found some very worn bendy snowmen he received from his Secret Santa two years ago to give. Yes, he has. The wires are probably sticking out in a couple of places and the paint is very nearly gone on most of the edges.

Now he's hurt that I've taken him aside and criticised his gifts. Aargh. But the poor girl. And his "Secret Santa" has been giving him cheap gifts, but at least relevant. You know, seasonal snowman keychain kind of things.

D has begun work on a leather bracelet with Patrick to present to this girl later. I sure hope she likes it, and it makes up for um, his previous gift-giving efforts. Oh, boy, I hope they get this done on time.

All He Wants For Christmas...

Well, he wants a lot of stuff. But isn't he cute???

Happy Birthday, Woodjie!

Woodjie is two years old today. Look what he can say now!

G's Wrestling Photo.

OK, so it's a picture OF a picture, and the bottom half is cut off because it has "SCHOOL NAME" emblazoned on the left leg. And the white sparkly stuff is my flash going off. But leave a comment and tell G he's lookin' good! He just joined the team and is 5 ft 10 and a whopping 130 pounds.

Homeschool Update - English.

We're going to be finishing second-grade Spelling before the New Year. We'll also be starting a new English unit on writing a persuasive essay. I'm not sure how much progress Elf and Emperor have made this year, although I could tell you that they have learned specific things such as distinguishing verb tenses and how to create a possessive noun. (Note I didn't tell you that they apply this knowledge correctly in every instance.)

The boys are excellent readers, but don't seem to enjoy writing nearly so much. With writing, once we're past that first draft "slap your ideas down on paper" kind of stage, it becomes work. They see where sentences need to be added or deleted. Punctuation is still used and capitalization doesn't seem to go out of style with old Mom. She's such a stickler about it, too. I know we've learned how to put commas and quotation marks in when someone is speaking, but this has been long forgotten. Thankfully, I can use this forgetfulness as an opportunity for growth. (Yay.)

I'm finding it slow going, though. When I circle a mis-spelled word on the paper that has been a spelling word about ten weeks running, it's frustrating for all concerned. I am going to try for shorter writing assignments on most days and see if we can't get the children to blog a few of these occasionally.

The boys enjoy short worksheet-type reading assignments, and reading longer passages for fun. Some of their language and ideas can be rather inventive. Did you know that it's a scientific fact that when I call Emperor from another room, that he's "almost certainly" in trouble? Yes, it is. Emperor, I suppose, has tested this theory and found it to be true.