Camp Wolff

Life, with a twist

2011-12-19T09:14:00.000-05:00

The kids wanted to play Life, the other day. We each picked our cars and put our drivers in. That's Joe's car in the front, followed by Hannah's, Miriam's, and mine. But what's that fifth car?

Joe's twist, of course: a kidnapper and his hostages.

If a player landed on the same square as the kidnapper, he would rob that player and s/he had to give him $5,000. If he landed on another player's spot, the police would seize his assets and give half to that player as a reward for helping them aprehend the suspect.

That kid cracks me up. Even if it cost me $35,000!

My Favorite Day

2011-11-07T22:44:00.009-05:00

The Homeschool Craft Fair was today. It is my favorite day of the year. I always find myself looking around and thinking, "THIS is why we homeschool."

This is the first time I remembered to take my camera! I didn't take a lot of pictures, but I did manage to get a decent shot of each of the kids' "booths".

Joseph decided to forgo crafts and instead to channel his inner Carnie.

Ten cans, three bean bags, and a bunch of toys he'd either outgrown or that he thought would attract eager contestants, and the boy was set.

His "Knock Over" game brought in quite the haul: he walked with $30, not including the money he pulled out of his cash box to buy from his friends.

Miriam made cupcakes.

Golden Cupcakes with Mixed-Berry Frosting for $1 each. She sold out. Sixteen cupcakes in all. Adam and I each bought one in the morning to go with our coffee, Joe and Hannah traded her for a game and a couple of gift tags (see Hannah's offers, bellow), she licked the icing off of two because she just couldn't resist ... and then she spent every one of her $12 on various knickknacks and baked goods before the day was out.

As soon as she was down to her last cupcake, she ran off to play with her new friend, Lola. (They met last night at the Homeschoolers' Square Foot Art Show.)

Hannah used watercolors to paint some greeting cards and gift tags. That's her table up there at the top, and here she is manning her station and snuggling the Togekiss she won playing Knock Over.

Adam and I were both really impressed with her cards. We thought they we quite pretty, and we were impressed with how hard she worked on them, as well as the different styles and techniques she used. I was sure they'd be a hit.

But Joseph had raked in a small fortune, and Miriam had almost sold out ... and Hannah still hadn't made her first sale. She was quite discouraged. I was discouraged for her. Adam called and offered to buy the whole lot. But soon, her cards started selling, and by the end of the day, she only had a few left. My girl was happy and proud.

Aside from how much fun I have watching my kids create and hawk their wares, I also really enjoy seeing what the other kids have created and the ingenuity employed to increase sales: I overheard one girl suggesting to her friend that she might be able to increase her cookie sales if she broke up one of each flavor and offered them as samples to passersby; another child sold 50-cent raffle tickets to win a $6 pencil holder filled with candy; a face painter had sketches of her different designs with prices listed for each; one child offered lessons on finger knitting in addition to the doll scarves she made at home before the fair; and several kids created custom-made crafts -- felt Christmas tree ornaments, peg dolls, pipe cleaner creatures, bracelets -- allowing their customers to pick colors, materials, and sizes, based on preferences and price range.

And of course, interspersed with the selling, there were the hours and hours -- noon to 5 p.m. -- of free play: climbing trees, tag, war, fort-building with fallen tree limbs, swinging, scooter and skateboard riding, exploring, talking. And plenty of time for both kids and adults to connect with friends, new and old.

Did I mention? Favorite Day of the Year.

Strewing via e-mail

2011-09-22T11:19:00.006-04:00

Unschoolers talk a lot about "strewing". The idea is that the best way to broaden kids interests and expose them to new and different things is to leave things lying about where they will come across them and see what sparks an interest. Or not. With no agenda other than to expose kids to new and different things.

This can be done by physically leaving things lying in their paths. Or by making it a point to go places where there will be new sites, smells, sounds, architecture, etc.

I have a new favorite way.

Ever since Joseph got his iPad for his birthday, I've been strewing by e-mail. Every time he turns on his iPad, he sees a little icon that tells him if he has new e-mail messages. I usually will tell him I've e-mailed him something, too, because he's not yet in a habit of opening it up all the time.

But by sending him e-mails, I avoid feeling like I need to call him away from whatever he's doing to come see something I think he will think is cool on the computer. And I don't have to worry about forgetting, either.

The first thing I e-mailed him was this:

You were asking about making big fish tanks, for walls ...

What do you think of THIS?!?

And then I gave him the link to a blog entry on My Modern Met about a hotel in the Maldives where guests can, for a limited time, stay in that beautiful bedroom.

When he became obsessed with putting some sort of amusement park ride in the backyard, I sent him a link to UsedRides.com (what else?). We had fun looking at all the different rides available; and speculating if they would fit in the back yard, how we could come up with the cash to buy one, what the insurance costs might be ... as well as how hard it would be to get a zoning variance.

Joe became very interested in the shipping containers-turned-restaurants we saw in Asbury Park. So I sent him an e-mail with a link to a blog entry about those specific shops, as well as another to the My Home in a Box blog that focuses exclusively on architectural projects that center around repurposed shipping containers.

He liked both, but is mostly interested in how much it would cost to rent one of the containers for the summer so we can open up the restaurant he's been talking about for years.

The most recent thing I sent him was this:

BIG HIT!

Strewing is fun.

Asbury Park

2011-09-21T22:50:00.001-04:00

Joseph has wanted to try his hand at glass blowing since watching demonstrations last year at Greenfield Village. He wanted to do it then, but at there you have to be about 14. In Asbury Park, NJ, Hot Sands Studio lets kids make a bubble at nine. A gift certificate seemed like the perfect gift for Joseph's ninth birthday.

It only took us 5 months to get down there!

The Groupon gift certificate was for a clear glass ball. Joseph, naturally, wanted to add some color. He picked Orange and white:

It was VERY bright. Sunglasses might not have been a bad idea!

Blowing!

Watching:

I think Joseph was expecting to get do to a little more of the work than he was allowed, but figured that might be the different in what 9-years-olds are allowed to do and what he remembered from watching the teenagers in Michigan. He still enjoyed it enough to say he would like to do it again, so I think it was a success. The glass has to cool for at least four days before you can bring it home, so either we'll pick it up on the way back from Whale Watching in a couple of weeks, or we'll have it shipped. [Pictures of completed bubble TK.]

We had a little time to hang out in Asbury Park before needing to get back home for our first night of gymnastics.

First some springy toys ...

Then onto the Silverball Museum for some pinball!

The owner of Silverball saw the kids eyeing the mechanical rides out front and came out and gave the kids a few free rides:

Then in we went for pinball! I loved this place and want to go back.

You pay to get in, but then all the games are on free-play. The kids could carry around their little stacks of plastic stools from game-to-game.

The vintage bowling games were the biggest hit with the kids, I think:

I loved this one. The puck slid down the lane on powdered wax.

We will definitely go back to Silverball!

Be free, little guy!

2011-09-13T09:45:00.002-04:00

We let our first butterfly go this morning.

More to come.

Emergence!

2011-09-12T16:59:00.004-04:00

Our biggest caterpillar formed a chrysalis on September 2. Today, she emerged.

We let her hang out for a while drying her wings in her Chinese soup container, but when she finally dropped down to the bottom of the container, I decided to move her to the porch while her wings continued to dry and harden.

I took the opportunity to snap a few pictures.

"She's sooooo pretty!" Hannah gushed.

She's just been opening and closing her wings for about half-an-hour

She really is beautiful. Of course, I think she may be a he. Notice the little dots on the bottom wings, close to his abdomen.

Well, Hannah still has three more chances for a girl. The second caterpillar formed a chrysalis on September 4. The last two on September 8. Should be an exciting week around here!

By the way, I had to transport one chrysalis back from the Poconos, and I was so worried that all the movement of the car would knock it loose from the top of it's container. I should have known better. It was quite difficult to remove the "shell" -- note to self: look up the official name -- today. Here is a picture of what it looked like after the butterfly emerged.

Stay tuned. Three more caterpillars on their way.

Hanging out

2011-09-02T08:57:00.000-04:00

When we got back from the beach last night, look what I found!

Our biggest caterpillar, attached to the top of his container with a silk button, just hanging out in J formation!

I was so excited that I wanted to stay up and watch it metamorphose into its crysalis, but fortunately I thought better of it. Because when I woke up, this is what I saw:

I was a little worried at first, but according to the Monarch Watch forums, it could take about 12 hours. And when it finally happens, it happens fast. I might get to see it yet. Fingers crossed little guy makes it.

Monarchs in the House!

2011-09-01T11:45:00.002-04:00

We went to Brookdale Park in Bloomfield with friends yesterday. I wish I'd thought about it before we were half way there so that we would have been more prepared, but it was about this time last year that we got our first monarch caterpillars there.

Joseph, Miriam and I headed over to the small patch of milkweed to check for caterpillars right after we got there, and we pretty quickly found two big ones. I went to the car and scrounged up a cardboard box to use as a temporary carrier for the ride home, and on our way out of the playground we stopped back by the milkweed.

We ended up with four caterpillars. We got the two big ones, and Hannah found another small one for Miriam. Then when I was picking some leaves to feed our new friends, I accidentally picked a very tiny caterpillar.

I should have taken a picture of him yesterday because he's not so tiny today:

Those suckers eat a LOT.

I remembered how much they eat -- they chomp through a big leaf each day at this size -- but for some reason I forgot about how much they poop!

We will have to clean their little containers at least once a day to keep them from getting sick.

I expect the big ones to start metamorphosing any day now. Those little ones will grow quickly, but I think they'll be with us for a while. According to MonarchButterfliesUSA.com, the entire life cycle of the Monarch butterfly is 6-8 weeks, with about 2 weeks as a caterpillar.

My goal is to take pictures everyday, but my camera is only barely cooperating for some reason. (May need to add a new camera to my Camp Wolff supplies wish list.)

Stay tuned.

Learning by ... osmosis?

2011-07-21T10:50:00.009-04:00

Two things came up yesterday that still sort of have me shaking my head in wonder:

Joseph, after skimming through the "ValPak" coupons, walked up and announced that I could get some good or service (the specifics of which are escaping me at the moment) for $24. I asked him how he knew, and he said,

"Well, it normally costs $25.00, but this coupon is for 10 percent off."

And he walked out of the room.

I debated calling him back to tell him I thought he had figured it wrong, but we had friends over and we were in the middle of a conversation. I knew there would be other opportunities to figure percentage-off calculations ...

I just realized he was right: he was calculating in the 7% NJ tax!

-and-
Miriam, our 3 1/2-year-old, uses the subjunctive case appropriately.

Last night on a late-night drive through an unfamiliar town, as the ancient maps on the GPS were letting us down in our quest for fast food, Miriam piped up from her car seat in the back:

"If I were you, Dad, I'd drive to Aunt Jamie's house and then just keep driving until we got to Burger King."

So, the subjunctive case and critical thinking skills. Three-and-a-half.

That picture up there is just so this isn't a text-only blog post. I like to have something to look at. The tank is our new hobby at the moment, and the kids are really enjoying it. As I try to get back into the habit of posting regularly, I'm sure it will feature prominently.

Ahhhhhhh

2011-03-15T17:01:00.010-04:00

turn face toward sun

close eyes, inhale salty air

zip coat, don gloves, smile

Days like this make me so happy. They are the reason I love homeschooling. A random Tuesday in March at the beach. Perfect.

Cold, but perfect.

I wanted to go to Sandy Hook today in hopes that we might spot a few seals. I knew it was a long shot, but they do frequently stick around through March. Low tide is supposed to be the best, and today, low tide was just after 11 a.m. No rush hour driving. Not frightfully early, either. The high was supposed to be in the low 50s. Chilly, but not bad.

Well, we didn't see any seals, but we didn't see any people, either, save for the friends that showed up just about the time my kids were turning into popsicles. (Note to self: coordinate better next time!) It was just us, and the ducks, and the seagulls, and the snails. And lots of sand.

Oh. And water.

I just checked, and water temps at Sandy Hook are apparently about 46 degrees right now. But that didn't stop my children from getting wet up to their little tushes.

Maybe I should invest in wet suits.

What I love about the beach this time of year is that we can walk onto the beach and the kids can scatter. I can see them, no matter how far they go. They can dig. They can splash. They can search tidal pools for signs of life ...

And you know what there isn't, aside from crowds? There is no fighting. No ear-piercing noises (my children just are not quiet)-- or at least I can't hear them over the sounds of the water and gulls. No children bouncing off the walls ...

It's been a LONG winter. It's time -- past time -- to get outside. The beach, even the cold beach, is heavenly this time of year.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Miriam enjoyed following the bird tracks ...

And was fascinated by all the snails waiting for the tide to come back in.

"Will they get annoyed if we pick them up?"

"How do we walk without hurting them?"

Joe and Hannah ran around and through the tidal pools, over the sand, on the rocks, just exploring.

Hannah was thrilled to find this giant, clam shell, liberated of it's clam but still intact. Though she was more than a little disappointed to get it home and find out it smells. And not in a good way.

Joe tried to warm his feet by burying them in the sand.

Miriam just went right for the fleece.

It was pretty hard to warm back up after getting so wet, so by 2 p.m. we were done-done. But we are all still happy and itching to go back.

Where we are right now

2011-03-08T11:52:00.004-05:00

So, way back in September I posted about the kids' decision to go back to school this year. I promised updates, but I didn't deliver.

Sorry to be recalcitrant. I'll do my best to catch everyone up.

School seemed to go pretty smoothly for both kids all Fall, though Hannah complained here and there that she was tired of so many worksheets, she didn't like the way they did music, etc. But she loved, LOVED the group of kids -- especially the little girls -- in her class.

Joseph, surprisingly, had almost no complaints. We did notice early on that the physical act of writing was a huge struggle for him, and we worked with his teacher to tweak some of his homework assignments so that he could meet the goals of the assignment without the accompanying physical struggle. His teacher and I, after some discussion, agreed it would be better for Joseph to do some of the assignments by dictation and really be engaged in the creative process of writing, than to force him to write things out by hand and choose to write the shortest (and least interesting sentences) he could come up with to avoid the physical act of writing.

He brought home assignments that, in the past, would have produced endless eye rolls and hours of procrastination that now he zipped through without complaint. I asked him once:

"Joseph, you're not different, and school's not different, so why do you think you are so much happier this go 'round?"

His response?

"I like knowing it's my choice."

Just before Thanksgiving, Hannah started asking more and more to stay home. Often she'd want to stay home in the morning -- complaining of one ailment or another -- and then by lunch time she'd ask to go back to school. On Wednesday, December 8, she said, "I think I want homeschool again ... well, at least sometimes."

That night at dinner I told her that I'd made an appointment to talk to the principal about what part-time options she may have, but that before we did we needed to talk about just what it was I'd be asking for.

And that's when Joe said, "I think I'd like in on that conversation."

And just as quickly as he'd made the decision to go back to school in the Fall, he'd decided to stay home. Friday, he said, would be his last day. And it was.

(It took a few days to suss out his reasoning, but basically he said, math was boring -- he'd always been ahead -- they didn't do enough science, and they did too much writing in an uninteresting way. He'd done well academically, socially and behaviorally, and it just wasn't where he wanted to be. It wasn't how he wanted to learn.)

Hannah was not ready to jump ship. She said she wanted to go half-days, so I told her I'd see what I could do. I wasn't holding my breath, but I was hopeful because, after all, kindergarten is not mandatory. No such luck.

We got word on Dec. 16 that our request had been denied, and with that Hannah decided that she wanted to stay home. She had not gone to school all that week. I had plans to deliver my notice to the Board of Ed. the Monday before Christmas break, but it didn't happen. It didn't happen Tuesday either. Maybe I sensed Hannah was hedging.

When we finally drove to the BOE on Wednesday morning, the kids said, "What are we doing here?" When I explained that we need to drop off the letter saying that the kids had decided to homeschool, Hannah said, "OK, but can my letter say I'm coming back next week?"

"Well, it can, but that's a different letter." I just laughed.

I withdrew Joseph from school and sent an e-mail to the principal and to Hannah's teacher to let them know she'd be back after Winter break.

Winter break came and went ... and Hannah hedged again. She asked for one more week home. Then one day. It was weird to be in a position to be pushing her to go to school, but I was trying to help her get what she wanted. Or at least to figure it out. I told her I wanted her to go every day for three weeks, get used to her new teacher (she had had a substitute all Fall as her "real" teacher was on maternity leave), get back in the swing of the routine, and that then we could regroup and decide what to do. In the meantime I promised dedicated Hannah-Mommy time each weekend.

Man, that three weeks was a struggle. Hannah dragged her feet getting out the door every day -- sometimes asking, begging to stay home -- but each afternoon she came home saying she'd had a great day. Small complaints here and there, but overall, she always seemed happy that she had gone.

Monday of week four rolled around, and Hannah wanted to stay home. She did go on Tuesday -- apparently there was an art project she wanted to complete -- and then she stayed home the rest of the week. Week five, same thing: she wanted to go for art day to complete her project, but that was it.

Monday of week six, she said, "I want to stay home, but I'll go tomorrow for art."

"Hannah, if you wanted to go most days and only stay home some, I think we could do that. But if you only want to go for art class, maybe it's time to come home, look for an art class for you to take, and then maybe try school again next year if you want."

"OK, Mommy. I finished my art project last week anyway. Can you ask my teacher if she can send it to us?"

So, we're home. Again.

It's been a few weeks. It's taken me a while to get back into the swing of having all the kids home again, but it's good. Really good. And we're having fun.

Coming Out

2010-10-11T15:37:00.008-04:00

"Angela is a straight ally and today is National Coming Out Day. I'm coming out for lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender equality because it's 2010 and the government's failure to recognize LGBT families for immigration purposes tears bi-national couples and families apart. Donate your status and join me by clicking here: http://bit.ly/cukhZo."

That, or some variation, has been my Facebook status for the past five days. At least since the Proposition 8 debate and vote, pretty much any time something about gay rights or same sex marriage makes the news, it also makes its way onto my profile or one of my blogs. I wrote about Prop 8 here and here. I made the trek, children in tow, to my state capital when we were fighting (and eventually lost) our own fight for marriage equality here in NJ. (Not that the fight is over, mind, it's just moved to the courts.)

I've had more than a friend or two ask me why I, a straight woman married to a man and mother to three children, feel the need. Sometimes I take the questions for what they are: earnest queries about something someone doesn't understand, but wants to a little better. Sometimes, I find it to be a little tedious, especially when accompanied by things like "I don't have a dog in this fight ..."

Why not? Why don't we all feel like we have a dog in this fight?

From where I stand, gay rights is -- at it's core -- a matter of civil rights and religious freedom, and that is something that affects us all, no matter how we personally identify. And as such, I wish more "straight allies" would take up the cause.

I first became interested in gay rights when I was in college. I'm not even sure how it happened, but at a certain point I ended up with a very close bunch of friends who all just happened to be gay men. I had known homosexuals before -- one of my soccer coaches when I was a kid (I didn't know it at the time, but apparently my parents did, which I can only assume means that there was something of a scuttlebutt about it), a friend's father who came out after years of marriage, many of the men in the salon where I got my hair cut, and I'm sure many, many others I just never knew about -- but this was the first time I got any sort of glimpse into what it must have been like to be gay in Richmond, Va., a town both arty and open, conservative and "traditional" all at the same time.

Meaning: it may have been OK for these guys to be open in some aspects of their lives, but certainly not others.

I heard one friend talk about a fight he had gotten into with his boyfriend because the boyfriend drove a convertible and he (my friend) wasn't comfortable holding hands when they drove around town in the car. The worry was that someone from work might drive up next to them and see.

Another friend dreaded Monday mornings at work where water cooler talk inevitably turned to "what did you do this weekend." He recounted that he always had to choose his words carefully so that they wouldn't know who he really was. Once he said, "I went out to a club with some friends." When they asked what club, he said he almost panicked. He racked his brain trying to think of the name of "straight" clubs, and when he finally came up with one ... the response from a coworker was "Oh, you have to be careful. I hear there are a lot of fags there."

These were the days before caller ID was available on every phone. I heard friends deepen their voices when they answered the phone until they knew who was on the other end of the line. I saw friends scour their apartment for any pictures, magazines, books, etc. that might reveal their predilections to visiting family.

I wish that every person that ever uttered the words, "I don't care if they're gay, I just don't want them to flaunt it." -- usually as support for something along the lines of Don't Ask, Don't Tell, or when talking about whether or not out and open homosexuals should be allowed to be teachers or religious leaders or scout masters -- could hear those stories firsthand and see the pain and damage caused to someone when they are forced to hide who they really are.

These weren't people flaunting their sexual orientation any more than I do by displaying my wedding pictures on my desk or holding my husband's hand when we walk down the street. Why is it that, almost 20 years later, not much has changed? And why is it that long after it stopped being OK for people to criticize others based on their race, their religion, their ethnicity (yes, I know it still happens, but you know what I'm saying), people feel no qualms about maligning homosexuals and denying them their rights.

I'm talking in ways both big and seemingly small. In our school classrooms and in the halls of government. Teens (and grownups) think nothing of saying "That's so gay" or "Don't be a fag" without giving a thought to how just overhearing it might feel to a kid who is. LGBT youth report hearing anti-gay slurs about 26 times per day -- or once every 14 minutes -- in school. It is legal in 29 states to fire someone for being gay. There is no federal protection. A New York gubernatorial candidate recently said, "I don't want [children] to be brainwashed into thinking that homosexuality is an equally valid or successful option" as heterosexuality. Gay couples are denied the right to get married in all but five states and the District of Columbia. Congresspeople invoke their own religions when casting votes against marriage equality, never mind Separation of Church and State or that numerous religious institutions have declared that they not only support same sex marriage, but allow their clergy members to perform the ceremonies.

For these and many reasons, I come out today -- and every day -- in support of gay rights. I wish more straight friends would realize that civil rights are rights for us all, and that they do in fact have a dog in this fight.

Happy Coming Out Day!

Stripa emerges

2010-09-10T15:59:00.004-04:00

Hannah ran out to the porch where I was talking on the phone, jumping up and down and squealing with excitement:

"Stripa's a butterfly! Stripa's a butterfly!"

Stripa was the name she gave her caterpillar after our friend Lucy collected it off a milkweed plant at the park two weeks ago. She found three that day, and generous girl that she is, she gave one each to Hannah and Joseph and the other to another little boy.

We collected extra milkweed leaves and stored them in our crisper bin, wrapped in a moist cloth napkin. We gave each caterpillar a new leaf ever day, and man, did those things eat!

Joseph's caterpillar, Bolt, did not survive metamorphosing into a chrysalis. It died before completing the change; I could tell by the way the beautiful green chrysalis turned dark brown within a day or two. Hannah's chrysalis seemed to form perfectly, dangling from the top of it's container, but it fell to the bottom just a couple days ago. I knew this could happen, but still I worried. I moved it onto a tissue just before leaving for my in-laws' for Rosh Hashanah, and hoped for the best.

When we returned today, I noticed that the chrysalis looked dark. My heart sank. But then I realized that it wasn't the lifeless brown we'd seen with Bolt, but instead I could see the pattern of Stripa's wings showing through the clear covering.

I meant to pull out the camera to take a picture, but then got caught up with making lunches, etc., and forgot all about it until Hannah interrupted my phone call with her excitement.

We have a butterfly!!!

Hannah's a little disappointed to learn that Stripa is a boy. You can tell by that black dot on his wing.

Stripa's wings are so wet in this picture, you can see drips of moisture on them.

And, here he is, hanging out to dry. I Googled "how long does it take for a butterfly's wings to dry" and came up with the answer of "one to three hours."

Stripa's on the porch, safe from the dogs so he can dry out and then we can release him when he's ready.

So much fun! So glad Lucy shared her caterpillars with us!

Back to ... WHAT?!?

2010-09-07T06:20:00.006-04:00

Yep, that's right. After a year of homeschooling, the kids have decided to try their hand at school again!

It took me a little while to get used to the idea. It came on pretty suddenly -- just two weeks ago -- so there's been precious little time for processing and a lot of rushing around trying to get the kids registered, get updated physicals and new(ish) supplies, meet the new principal and teachers, etc.

How did this all happen?

Joseph periodically mentions school. Just last month he said that he was 60-40: 60% of him wanted to keep homeschooling, and 40% of him thought he might like to try school. He apparently mentioned to his aunt that he might "try school again for third grade" just a few weeks ago, but she thought that was a year in the offing and made no mention of the conversation. Then two weeks ago to the day, Joseph said he thought he'd like to try school this year. Then he talked Hannah into it.

"Hannah, do you want to try kindergarten this year?"

Hannah, a little wide-eyed, just shook her head "no."

"I'm going to try third grade. It would be fun to be in the same school!"

"OK. I guess I could try it for three days."

"That's not long enough, Hannah. I think you need to give it at least a week."

And with that they hugged and ran out the room.

I think it took me a while to pick my jaw up off the floor.

But once I did, and once I processed a bit, I realized I really could be nothing but thrilled that my kids are so positive and open minded and willing to try new things. I'm still not convinced school is the best place for my right-brained boy to learn just yet, but I've switched gears to figuring out the best way to support him at school rather than educate him at home. Whatever happens, I want it to be a positive experience for him. I want him to thrive, and emerge with his self esteem intact.

He says he's only giving it seven days -- the first two weeks are short due to both Labor Day and the Jewish holidays. I've made sure to tell him he can take as much time as he needs. If he gets there and thinks "Oh right, THIS is what I hated about school," it might be a quick decision. But I suspect that if his teacher is the least bit engaging and he enjoys being back with his friends, it may be a work in progress of us communicating with his teacher and the principal and the reading specialist and maybe even the OT to help tweak the things that aren't working for him. And after spending a year really getting to know his learning style, I think I'm in a much better position to advocate for my boy.

What I'm hoping is that his knowing that he has a choice of where to be every day between 8:45 and 3:30 will be enough for him to truly weigh the pros and cons of each situation and get the best of whatever it is that he wants. And I'll support him in whatever decision he makes. I'm also hoping he doesn't bail before Hannah gets a chance to get comfortable -- she's not as accepting of change and new situations as he is -- and make her own decision of where she wants to be this year.

I will certainly keep everyone posted.

For now, the requisite "first day of school" photo:

Anger Management

2010-07-19T23:13:00.003-04:00

My boy has a quick temper. When it hits, look out. Either the fists and feet fly ... or he crumbles into an angry, frustrated, sad, self-defeating heap.

On a recent visit with cousins, the temper flared several times. And almost always in the direction of his 12 year-old cousin. After numerous attempts to get Joseph to talk to Ben about how he felt -- and an almost derailed dinner out -- I suggested that if he didn't want/wasn't able to deal with whatever it was head-on, then maybe he could write or draw something to help express his emotions.

He rolled his eyes at me.

But later I found these.

Pretty sure that's my nephew as a girl with high heels, saggy breasts and hairy pits.

This one was my favorite.

I don't know if it helped, but it sure was interesting to see.

No, I'm not in London and E-mailing you for Money!

2010-06-15T08:20:00.003-04:00

I was hacked. Yahoo. Facebook. And Google.

It's already been a very long morning, but just in case any of you, my loyal readers and commenters, were sent a desperate plea for money, please know that I am home and well.

Secure your passwords, people!

-Angela

Weeding out Expectations

2010-05-27T00:14:00.012-04:00

It's one of those things I've said so many times that I can't even count. Usually as I'm trying to explain our very relaxed method of homeschooling to someone who wonders just how it is I plan to teach the kids "the basics."

The conversation usually goes something like this:

"But how will you teach them math?"

"Math is everywhere. It's grocery shopping and budgeting and saving for a new toy ... it's measuring a garden bed ..."

So, Spring rolls around, the Maplewood Plant Sale that has been on the calendar for months finally arrives, the kids and I have a great time picking out all the things we want to grow, I eagerly anticipate the perfect lesson -- math and science all rolled into one -- that the garden represents ... and then ... well, then I realize I don't really want to garden with my children.

It seems terrible to say. I love gardening and I love my children, so shouldn't I love the two things combined?

Turns out, not so much.

What I really wanted was to garden in peace. Alone. Perhaps with someone small sitting nearby and chatting with me, but not HELPING!

Well, this realization leads to little more than self flagellation. I mean, what kind of homeschooler doesn't want to garden with her children, anyway? This is followed by too many moments of me trying to stick with the plan of gardening together while I am anything but fun mommy. Uptight and overbearing mommy is closer to accurate.

As I'm digging in the dirt during one of my stolen moments, I have a realization: as many memories as I have of a porch overflowing with seedlings bursting from their peat pot homes, of plopping down in my parents' garden and eating peas right off the vine, or eating strawberries and radishes still dusted with dirt, I have no memories of actually helping my parents plant. NONE. I asked my older sister, and no digging and planting memories for her, either. Clearly my parents either got up at the crack of dawn or waited until we went to school.

But yet, I still learned to love gardening. I still absorbed enough information about organic methods to know the kinds of resources that will be helpful and what to look up when I get stuck. I learned to love the taste -- and smell! -- of a cherry tomato plucked from the vine and warm from the sun. There are still plenty of things my kids can learn from having a garden, even if they aren't intimately involved in the planting of it. And there are still many, many gardens in their future. They don't have to learn everything from this one, just because it is the first garden we are planting while they happen to be homeschooling.

I also had another realization: had I not gotten myself hung up on a need to do the whole garden with the kids, I might have been smart enough to start with helping them with the plants they bought for themselves.

Once I set aside the big project of the vegetable garden and spent time with each Joseph and Hannah finding homes for their own carefully selected annuals and perennials, we all had more fun and I was able to stop worrying about my precious seedlings getting trampled.

And then you know what, they were more than happy to go about their own business and leave me to my garden.

Rookie mistake.

Eighty-eight Degrees

2010-05-02T15:11:00.005-04:00

The kids have been asking to pull out the sprinkler pretty much every day since the beginning of March. I can only guess that by their way of thinking, March doesn't sound like a winter month, so clearly that means it's warm. Which obviously means it's time for bathing suits and sprinklers, right?

Well, when Joseph asked today, "Can we take out the sprinkler?" I was thrilled to answer "Yes!"

They had fun -- well, at least Joe and Hannah did; Miriam wouldn't go near it -- but a sprinkler can only run so long before things start to get a little ... muddy.

And once you get muddy, you must get clean. And every kid knows that when it's 88 degrees outside, the best way to get clean is with ... a slip-and-slide.

It was a good day.

Early Morning Art

2010-05-02T11:18:00.001-04:00

Miriam woke up at 6:33, and by 7 she was asking to paint.

We're in serious purge mode over here as we prepare to have the carpet ripped up and the floors refinished. So, now that the weather is more consistently nice, I've decided to, as much as possible, keep the art projects out doors.

So, at approximately 7:05, Miriam and I were outside mixing sidewalk paint. Cornstarch, water and food coloring. Voila!

Miriam had fun painting pavers and generally just dipping her brush in the colors and dribbling it around.

Hannah woke up about 8 and joined us for smiley faces, hearts, and painting all manner of things not nailed down (like leaves and "helicopter" seed pods).

Painting fingers and toes was also fun.

Joseph missed it. That boy did not get up until 10:15!

Car Math

2010-04-30T23:04:00.007-04:00

Thank goodness I'm good at math because peppering me with equations has become Joseph's favorite new car game.

Sometimes it's addition.

"Mom, what's 22 + 15?"

"37"

"What's 37 + 48?"

"85"

"What's 85+ 276?"

"361"

It can go on and on until either he gets tired of not being able to stump me, or I call it quits due to my concern for being able to both carry numbers in my head and change lanes in traffic at the same time.

Sometimes it's subtraction:

"25-13?"

"12"

"12-8?"

"4"

"4- 6?"

"-2"

"-2 - 4?"

"-6"

"-6 - -6?"

"0"

"Wait, so when you subtract a negative number it gets bigger?"

"Yep."

"-5 + -7?"

"-12"

"And when you add them they get smaller?"

"Yep."

Today, it was algebra.

"Mom, 12 minus what equals 5?"

"7"

"28 + what = 36?"

"Ummm ... 36 - 28 = 8, so 28 + 8 = 36"

I probably didn't really need to tell him how I was getting to my answers, but I threw that in just for good measure. But if I know my boy, this is all going to come spilling out of him later pretty seamlessly.

2010-04-03T22:23:00.002-04:00

The April edition of Carnival of Unschooled Life is up, and I feel honored to again have two posts included.

Grab a cup of coffee or tea and read through the posts. There's much to be inspired by.

All Tied Up

2010-03-31T14:58:00.004-04:00

Hannah's knot-tying skills have been on display before. But I finally got video of her swinging on one of her sheet-swings. That's an old t-shirt sheet she is using. And a very sturdy Ikea three-position bed as base.

She seems pretty proud of herself, doesn't she?

Gaming

2010-03-11T07:39:00.002-05:00

Something about this just struck me as incredibly sweet.

New games arrived Tuesday night via UPS, and the kids have been engrossed ever since. Yesterday morning they got up, had breakfast, and then went back to bed to play. Together, but not, snuggled under the blankets on Hannah's bed.

Only problem: three new games. Three kids. Two Leapsters.

"Where my Leap-er? Me play now. My turn!!!"

Oh, to be the baby. Honey, Mama understands.

Getting Out ... and About (or Why letting the boy go free-range will scare the crap out of me every time, but I'll do it anyway)

2010-03-09T23:19:00.013-05:00

It was a beautiful day. The second in a row. And we could not be contained.

The sidewalk chalk came out. (We desperately need to replenish.) This is Hannah's family portrait:

Left to right, that's me, Joseph, Hannah, Miriam, Rocky and Yeppie. This is a new style for Hannah, and I like it, though not sure why it looks like I have devil horns. I mean, we really had a very nice day.

There was also hopscotch ... with some very creative rules. Hannah seems to have entered that stage where every game is orchestrated so that she comes out victorious.

And we did lots of body outlines and tracing of shadows. I LOVED every second of laying on the warm blacktop with the sun beating down on my face. I tried to convince Hannah to draw me in many different poses, but she got bored after just two. Pity.

Joseph, always the party planner, suggested a picnic and raced inside to gather gear and goodies: carrots, yellow peppers, dried strawberries, Kashi cereal, juice boxes ... and the requisite marshmallows and chocolate chips. I mean, what's picnic without marshmallows and chocolate chips, right?

Just as the picnic was winding down, Joseph noticed the cars lining up at the end of the block for school pick up. First he asked to go to a friend's house and reluctantly agreed to go put on a t-shirt and sneakers to go with his shorts (Yes, March, and my boy's outside in nothing but shorts). He ran in, and out, and down the street ... and back in no time flat.

"They have soccer in a few minutes."

He was dejected, but then he had an idea:

"Can we go to school to play on the playground?"

It was a great idea ... except that Miriam was still asleep.

"Why can't Hannah and I go and you can come when Miriam wakes up? Please?!? I'll watch Hannah!"

Well that was easy. No, I was not going to put my 7-year-old in the position to be responsible for my 5-year-old. She rarely acquiesces to her brother. Hell, I can barely count on her to do what I ask.

"Can I go then, and you can come when Miriam wakes up."

These are the questions that stop me in my tracks. I want to say "yes" and say it without hesitation. But I always take in a long breath and have to think, really think, about how I'm going to answer.

This isn't the first time something like this has come up. Last year he asked to walk to school by himself, tired of getting dressed in his coat, hat and gloves and then standing around sweating to death for the next 15 minutes while I wrestled his sibs into their winter wear.

Back in the fall he asked if he could wander around the grocery store while I was shopping. There was also the time over Christmas, while we were visiting Mom but staying in a hotel near the airport, that he asked if he could try to beat us back to the room from the pancake house just two businesses away.

The first request was pretty easy. We only live a block-and-a-half from school and there's a crossing guard at the only intersection. Our routine those first few times was for me to walk out to the sidewalk, watch him to the corner, he'd turn and wave and then dip out of site. He eventually just waved good-bye at the door and was off. And if there were ever days that he didn't feel like going it alone, our deal was that he just needed to let me know with enough warning to get the girls dressed.

Of course the first time the crossing guard made him wait at the corner for several cycles of the light, sure that he'd run ahead and not believing him that I wasn't coming and that it was OK.

At the grocery store -- a fairly self-contained place with little chance for physical injury and helpful clerks to lend a hand if needed -- I took my deep breath, then asked him how he planned to find me again, and what he would do if he couldn't find me? He decided on his own how many aisles away he planned to venture, etc. before checking back in. We had just happened to run into a new homeschooling acquaintance of mine whose son decided to join in on the fun. They had a blast.

The pancake-house-to-hotel jaunt didn't go quite so smoothly, but not through any fault of Joseph's; he did just what he said he'd do. On our way out of the restaurant, Hannah announced that she had to go to the bathroom and couldn't hold it. I went with her, and as is her habit sometimes, it wasn't a quick trip. But Adam, out at the car with the other two, didn't know that it was going to take more than a minute or two. She'd gone in saying "I have to pee," after all.

So when Joseph asked if he could run back to the hotel, instead of riding in the car, Adam said yes. They went over the plan of what he would do when he got to the breaks in the sidewalk that were driveways. There was a diner and another hotel, that's it -- a distance of just .2 miles -- between the restaurant and our hotel. I would have said yes, too.

But, by the time I got to the car, Adam was looking a little nervous. He was realizing that Joseph had gotten more of a head start than he had planned. I got Hannah buckled as quickly as I could, and we headed off after him. He looked sooooo small in the distance.

As we drove past the diner, I noticed a waitress standing out on the sidewalk looking in the direction she has just seen this little, unaccompanied boy run. I said, "Oh no! She's going to be worried about him. We're going to have to go back and find her." It didn't occur to me then that she might be more than just passively worried.

Seconds later we were pulling into the hotel parking lot, and there was Joseph, hanging off the balcony just beaming: "I beat you!"

By the time we got up to the room and I was looking for a phone book to call the diner, I see two police cars drive slowly down the street. Oh. NO! I got the kids and headed back out to the van and the two policemen pulled in and stopped, talking with each other about what to do.

I thought I was going to throw up. I walked over and asked, "Are you looking for a little boy? He's with us." I'd never felt so stupid as I did explaining to those two policemen the series of evens that led to a 7-year-old boy running unaccompanied down a fairly industrial road.

He was perfectly safe, but it's out of the ordinary. It does not fit with the mores of the day.

So, when Joseph asked today if he could walk to the playground by himself, I again took a deep breath.

"Yes," I said, slowly, and doubting myself even as the words were coming out of my mouth. "But how are we going to make sure you're OK while you're there and home when you're supposed to be so I don't worry?"

I considered giving him my phone. I considered having him wear his watch and telling him when to come back.

I called Adam. I just wanted to get his read on the situation.

"Let him go. Tell him he needs to be home before sunset. Tell him he needs to walk up to you and say, 'Hi, I'm back, and look! There is the sun in the sky.'"

It was sound logic: that way I wouldn't have to worry about my phone getting lost or broken, or about him confusing the hands on the watch. So, with those instructions and our phone number stuffed in his pocket, Joseph bounded out the door.

Moments later there was an e-mail in my inbox:

Subject: sunset
Body: 5:57 p.m.

Shit! That was much later than I thought. But I also knew that Joseph is not the kind of kid that wants to play by himself on the playground. The minute it cleared out, he'd be home.

A very short while later, Miriam woke from her nap. Hannah wanted to go to the playground, too, and Joseph knew we might show up, but I took my time getting Miriam dressed. I didn't want Joseph to feel like I didn't trust him. We meandered down to the playground and Hannah disappeared into the crowd of kids still there for aftercare. Only a few parents were still hanging around. I didn't see Joseph anywhere.

I couldn't help it. I got a little knot in my throat. I walked around the tree, I circled the play structure ... no Joseph. And I didn't see any kids that I knew for sure he knew, either.

Crap. Now what? Had he gone in to go to the bathroom? The door was locked, so that was unlikely. Or, in a case of bad timing, had he walked home by way of the sidewalk in front of the school as the girls and I cut across the back?

Hannah was none too pleased with being pulled off the playground. She dragged her feet. She stuck her tongue out at me. She told me how much she hated this day. I felt bad for her. But I also worried that Joseph would be home worried about where we were. I wasn't quite sure what my next step would be if I got there and found the house empty.

We walked in the door, and there he was, sitting on the sofa wearing nothing but his underwear.

"So that's where you were? Outside all this time?!?"

I explained to him what happened. He said he had indeed walked along the front sidewalk since it was closer to the big playground. I asked him if he had been worried, and he said:

"Not really. I called to you and when you didn't answer I figured you were in the attic."

So he stripped down, turned on the TV, and gave it no more thought.

So much for walking up to me and pointing at the sun!

Next time I'll make sure we discuss what route to take so we don't run the risk of missing each other again.

Next time. What will it be next time that makes me take a deep breath and doubt every word that's coming out of my mouth, even as I'm saying it?

*****

Check out Free Range Kids.

Sisters Dance

2010-03-09T07:58:00.006-05:00

Hannah dropped the modern dance class she was taking. But that doesn't mean that she doesn't still LOVE. TO. DANCE.

We are treated to frequent performances. Joseph will join in if the musical accompaniment runs along the lines of Green Day or Smash Mouth or something to which he can beat box.

But now she has a new dance partner. One who will join her when the music is slower, when the emotions expressed are swooning love or deep sorrow. When these songs play, we see grand, sweeping movements, intense facial expressions, arabesques and pirouettes, and my favorite: heart hands.

Last night she agreed to be video taped. It is a full three minutes and twenty-three seconds long. But I couldn't resist.

Without further ado, Hannah and Miriam, dancing to L'cha Dodi:

Leaps and bounds

2010-03-07T20:52:00.009-05:00

When describing Joseph's learning style, I usually describe him as and "observe and absorb" kind of kid. He never "works" on things or practices, seeming instead to prefer to sit back, take in information, and one day, just when I start to wonder "Will Joseph ever _____?" He does.

He didn't crawl until he could zoom across the floor. He didn't walk until he could run. He didn't talk until he could speak clearly.

I remember thinking when Joseph was about 2 1/2: "The other little kids Joseph plays with are all drawing faces, I don't think I've ever seen him do that."

Now granted, most of the smiley faces they were drawing weren't really all that good. If it were not for the "Do you like my smiley face?" question, I may not have even known what they were some of the time. But I couldn't recall Joseph even trying.

A short time later we were playing with play dough, a gingerbread man cookie cutter and some tooth picks. As I cut out a ginger bread man, I'd pass it over to Joseph and cut out another. Next thing I know, I look over and see an bunch of gingerbread men all lined up in a row: one happy, one surprised, one frowning, one angry, one crying ...

Right on target, Joseph was drawing perfect faces without ever having gone through the practice steps that most other kids seemed to. It is a story I pull out every time I am either describing his learning style to someone, or when I catch myself wondering if he is "on track" in this area or another.

This weekend we got another glimpse of one of Joseph's seemingly out-of-nowhere leaps:

Joseph loves to draw. Most of his drawings lately have been very detailed diagrams of his dream club house, any people included are completely secondary.

If you look hard in that picture, above, you can tell that, near the bottom on the right hand side, there is a person riding a bike. It is a stick figure.

He recently pulled out a book about how to draw monsters and creatures. Here is his drawing of a fire-breathing dragon, a couple of vampire bats, and ...

... one very scared stick figure.

He brought this picture home from Hebrew school a few weeks ago. It includes his Hebrew name (Yosef), and ...

... a bunch of stick figures: sailing a boat, fishing, and, well, I'm not sure what that last one is doing. I think it might be Joseph as super hero. (Maybe I should go ask again).

I have seen Joseph draw more detailed people. The kinds with very boxy body parts, but still with rakes for hands and where the only differences between girls and boys might be a triangle skirt in place of rectangle pants. And lately it seems the people have all been secondary to the theme and been given little attention.

Until yesterday. Yesterday he walked in and handed us this picture of him with his cousins:

Maybe it's just me, but that seems like quite the leap. And today I've been given several more pictures with similar details and personality.

It's so fascinating to watch the ways this boy is growing.

Birthday III

2010-03-07T20:12:00.004-05:00

It's the birthday that just won't end.

Hannah just turned five. For her birthday she wanted to go to a play space with her cousins, but they were skiing on her actual birthday. And then they were sick the next weekend. We finally had plans to go to Kidz Village this past Saturday, and wouldn't you know it, Friday morning Hannah woke up in the wee hours with a fever and complaining of a headache. When she crashed out in the afternoon, her fever was gone, but a new symptom popped up in it's place: that awful, croupy cough I dread.

Oh no. Would this birthday ever come off?

Friday night I put out a call and wrangled some homeopathic remedies from a friend. I dosed Hannah before bed, bundled her up, tucked her in, threw open her windows, shut the door to her bedroom ... and hoped for the best.

Phew we made it!

By noon Saturday we were in Metuchen for Pizza with the cousins, aunts and grandparents. And then an hour later we headed back north to the indoor play space -- on the most beautiful day in weeks! (The things we do for love of our children!)

A few shots from the day:

:: Hannah in the beauty salon ::

:: under fire from cousin Joshua ::

:: fighting back ::

:: resting with her cousins and brother, taking in a movie ::

:: Miriam in a tube ::

Ahhhh, that should do it until next year!

"Me a big girl!"

2010-03-05T09:03:00.002-05:00

She's so sure of it.

She loves to help. In the kitchen. With laundry. With "putting away" dishes and throwing things in the trash.

She frequently feeds the dogs without being asked:

Fortunately for us, both dogs are of the variety that will only eat until full. It took them several days to get through her piles:

This morning she insisted on painting her own fingernails. Look what a nice job she did:

Actually, her right hand isn't half bad.

Prep for a Busy Day

2010-03-04T09:20:00.003-05:00

I love these lunch boxes. I've gotten pretty good about packing them up on the days I know we are going to be out of the house all day.

What I'd like to do is get better at packing them up every day. That way, when the last minute invite comes or the mood for a little adventure strikes, we'll be ready. And less likely to eat here.

And what's the worst that will happen? We go nowhere and eat out of our lunch boxes at home? That's not so terrible.

Carnival of Unschooled Life - March Edition is up

2010-03-03T14:08:00.003-05:00

I'm honored to have had two submissions to this month's Carnival of Unschooled Life accepted.

If you haven't already, cruise over and check out the other submissions. Some good reminders and reassuring posts from others on this journey.

Done, DONE!

2010-03-03T10:28:00.007-05:00

When I walked down stairs this morning and looked out my dining room window ... I jumped up and down and pitched a fit. Seriously. Just a small one, but really? More snow?

I'm soooooo done with winter. And grey. And cold.

I want this:

I have wanted a vintage Shasta travel trailer for years. Because they are cute and kitschy and I thought the Sisters on the Fly were just awesome (I'd read an article about them in Country Living magazine).

But now I want one for me and the kids. I want to "Road School." Not always, but definitely sometimes.

Like now. I'd like nothing more than to pack up the kids and head south, or west, or south-west to sun and warm, dry air. And come August, when I'm complaining about too much heat and humidity, I'd love to drive north to Nova Scotia, or north-west to Glacier ...

Or anytime that I feel stuck in a rut and tired of the four walls that surround us we could just hook up the trailer, hop in the van and go ... somewhere.

sigh. A girl can dream on a gloomy, gray day.

Road Schooling links:

http://www.roadtripamerica.com/travelplanning/Road-Schooling.htm

http://www.squidoo.com/road-schoolers

http://www.familiesontheroad.com/

http://homeschooling.suite101.com/article.cfm/road_schoolers_unschooling_in_an_rv

The picture above came from here, btw.

Snapshots of a Snowy Weekend

2010-03-01T10:58:00.015-05:00

It was a busy, snowy weekend. Adam "worked from home" on Friday. What a nice way to kick off the weekend!

Grandpappy's Nature Boy Pancakes -- plain and raisin -- and sausage for breakfast. Always a hit:

Playing in the snow. I didn't really want to go out. I'm a bit over winter at this point. But I rallied for the kids ... then instigated a snowball fight with the boys down the street (-: ... and had a BLAST.

No pictures of us actually out in the snow, but this picture of Yeppie post-play is a favorite:

The snow was much deeper than she is tall, and the more she jumped through it, the more it clumped to her fur. She kept getting slower and slower until I finally had to lift her out and put her on the sidewalk. Reminded me a bit of that scene in The Incredibles where Mr. Incredible gets pummeled with those blobs of glue that stick to him and swell.

To thaw out, the kids went upstairs to play in one of the sheet "swings" Hannah has rigged under her bed. She miscalculated once and got a good clonk on the head. She looks miserable here, but you must admit, Girlfriend knows how to rock an ice pack!

Saturday night was Purim, and somehow there are (once again, sigh) no pictures of the kids in their costumes. Take my word for it, Joe went as a cowboy, Hannah was a fairy, and Miriam was a giraffe (we have gotten much use out of that costume over the years!).

Purim is fun. It is custom to be so drunk that you can't distinguish between the names of Haman and Mordecai. But, alas, we have to drive to synagogue -- as do most of the other congregants -- so we don't fulfill that one. BUT everyone comes in costume, and it is very rowdy. Every time Haman's name is mentioned there is much booing and stamping of feet and twirling of groggers. The kids lasted quite a while without complaint, and then were eager to go back the next morning to do it all over again. We also hit the Purim carnival at a local synagogue to benefit the local youth groups. Bouncy house, ball pit, lots of little games and plastic prizes galore ... the kids enjoyed themselves.

Here's Hannah, never one to pass up face paint, proudly showing off her butterfly face:

I'm really enjoying eavesdropping on the kids' conversations, lately. They are growing up so much ... and really becoming good, supportive, empathetic friends. Two gems from the weekend:

Joseph, in his search for cowboy accouterments, was looking for a hat. The only one we have is a crushed up mess, as it's been in the dress-up box for YEARS. It is also a little small on Joe's big head. When he asked me about it, I expressed doubt that it would be suitable. (Sometimes I'm really no fun.) But when he dug it out and put it on, Hannah said with big eyes and lots of excitement: "Joseph! That's perfect! You look just like a real cowboy!"

The other happened at the Purim carnival. When Joseph saw Hannah's face paint at the end of the afternoon, he got excited for her: "Hannah, Where'd you find face paint?!?"

Joseph hates face painting and always has. He will never agree to having anything drawn or painted on his face, no matter how small. The kids all went their own ways at the carnival, but I am confident that had Joseph seen the face painting booth, he would have searched out Hannah to make sure she knew about it.

There was also a very funny conversation, but I have no idea what sparked it. It went like this:

Joseph: "What do you thing the worst thing in the world is? I think it's mosquitoes."

Hannah: "I have three worst things: getting dead; getting hurt; AND mosquitoes."

We had a late lunch after the carnival. The kids created their own sandwiches. Joseph started with a diagram for his:

It's hard to read, so let me break it down for you:

Joe's Sandwich Special: Pickle Relish Sandwich (working up from the bottom):

Bread
Pickle Relish
Patty (in this case a turkey burger, but he purposefully remained vague because he thinks any kind of patty would do)
Cheese
Pickle Relish
Bread
Bologna

Yes, that's right, he topped it off with a slice of bologna!

This is supposed to be a close up of him about to eat the sandwich -- his request -- but somehow the file got corrupted and the waggling tongue part got sliced off and attached to the wrong side of the picture. Interesting.

And here he is actually eating -- and actually enjoying -- his odd sandwich.

We capped off the weekend with a rushed trip to Dick's to get me a pair of sneakers in anticipation of my trip -- in a couple of weeks! -- to The Old Lady Spa with my MIL and SILs.

On the way there, we were reminding the kids that Dick's is the store with the running track ringing the shoe department. Joseph suggested a race while I was trying on shoes, and speculated -- with a bit too much attitude and bravado -- about the outcome:

"You'll probably come in second, Dad, then Hannah, and then Miriam."

Adam and I exchanged a glance and decided maybe it was time to stop throwing races in his favor.

Once I got my shoes on, Joe suggested a race as a way for me to see if I liked the shoes. Another glance at my husband, and then ... I wiped the floor with my seven-year-old. (Thank goodness he was very good natured about it.)

What's funny is that later Hannah said to me:

"Those new shoes must be really good! You're usually not that fast. We're usually faster than you ... or sometimes you beat us by only a little bit ... but with those shoes on you were really, REALLY fast."

Pretty sure their self esteem is still intact.

Did he really just say "Pokemon"?!?

2010-02-23T09:48:00.016-05:00

"What have you been learning lately, Joseph?"

It was a question meant innocently enough, but my ears perked up immediately. We were entertaining guests, I was still in the kitchen finishing up ... and straining hard to hear the answer.

Of the gathered crowd, half have been very supportive of our decision to homeschool and even to unschool (as least as they understand it) ... and half think that both are a bad idea.

Joseph was obviously engaged in something else, because the question was met with silence and then repeated. The answer finally came back:

"Pokemon."

I must admit to cringing a little bit. Couldn't he have mentioned the maple sugaring excursion we'd just taken, or the book we're reading, or, heck, even the gymnastics class that he is loving so much or the ice skating skills he picked up the weekend before and about which he is so proud?

I didn't hear the follow-up questions or explanations. And there may not have been any. I don't know if the questioner knows what Pokemon is enough to have an opinion about whether or not it is of any "value" -- educational or otherwise. But I know that the others in the room know it as a cartoon, and perhaps as a trading card game. Those same people have questioned Joseph before and expressed disapproval when the answer to "What did you do today?" came back as "I watched TV." It is likely that I'll hear about this later.

It is hard to explain to people that aren't living our life exactly what it is we do all day, and why I think it all has value. Even the Pokemon. Sometimes, especially the Pokemon.

We don't actually have cable, so outside of the occasional video clip they've watched online, the kids have only seen the cartoon at their cousins' house. There is also a Wii game for which we downloaded a demo. But Joseph's most recent forays into the world of Pokemon have been of the trading card variety with kids who are really into it and can explain everything about every single Pokemon, how they battle, what their weaknesses are, how much energy they have, what Pokemon they evolve into ...

I heard Joseph making his first trades, and I'm not entirely sure that his friend didn't take a little bit of advantage of his naivete ... but it has sparked Joseph's interest in the game and a desire to learn more and figure out how to make better trades. Having Pokemon cards and understanding them is great social currency among boys of a certain age.

I must admit to being a little disdainful of Pokemon, myself, once upon a time. I've always appreciated the artistry of the cards -- they really are very cool looking -- but I felt like it was little more than one huge marketing machine: a TV show and movies all crafted to sell video games and trading cards, and trading cards and video games all created to drive up viewership and ad dollars, blah, blah, blah. But now that I've opened my mind a bit to the value of pop culture beyond mere entertainment, I see there's a lot more my kid can get out of it than just eye candy.

There is lots of reading, strategy and some VERY complicated math involved in playing Pokemon. Joseph has never played the actual game -- either in card form or on a game system -- to the best of my knowledge, but it's only a matter of time.

Or maybe he'll never get into it in that way, and that will be OK, too. What I'm learning as I watch my kids learn is that you never really know the connections they'll make from one thing to another.

I have a virtual crush on Patricia over at Wonder Farm. (She reads occasionally, so yikes! Blush! Hi Patricia, now you know!) Because she's smart, and articulate, and raising amazing kids, and trusting enough in both them and herself to let them be (just enough, but not too much) ... and I can only hope that a few years down the road some newbie homeschooler has a virtual crush on me ...

Anyway, I digress. Patricia over at Wonder Farm has a couple of posts about this very subject:

This one about the Pokemon-style card game her son created about different species of spiders (you'll need to scroll half-way down to get to the spider part, but don't miss her daughter's project on the history of American food!) .

And this one about the Lego-Wii-style "video" game the same son created based on Norse mythology.

And this post, "Limits Can Be So ... Limiting", from Camp Creek Blog sits squarely at the top of both my "What to share with doubting friends and relatives" and my "What to read when I'm doubting myself" lists. I posted it to my Facebook page the second it popped up on my blog reader, but I'm sure I will go back to it again and again.

Will Joseph learn math from Pokemon? Or create his own, intricate Pokemon-style trading card game? Will it inspire a career in animation? Who knows. And really I don't care. But I can already see the fascinating connections he has made from many other bits of pop-culture detritus to trust that even if I can't see it right now or next week or next month, there will be some connection to be made. And his life will be richer for it.

Birthday II (and a requested recounting of Bean's birth)

2010-02-22T12:07:00.017-05:00

This weekend was to be Birthday II -- Hannah's family birthday party. You may remember from Birthday I that her cousin's were skiing on her actual birthday, so we had to put off our playspace trip and family party until this weekend. But Saturday morning came the call that two-out-of-three cousins were sick with strep. )-:

Hannah handled it with grace: "Well, so we can still have everybody else come to dinner and just go to the playspace another time."

So Birthday III with the cousins is in the offing. I guess there are worse things than "the never ending birthday celebration"!

Here's hoping the cousins feel better soon.

Now, there have been requests for Hannah's birth story. I was obviously too much of a tease in my previous post. I don't know how this really fits in with the other content on Camp Wolff, but who am I to disappoint me readers? Especially the few who actually comment (-;

So, here goes ... Hannah's birth story:

But, really, it's hard to tell Hannah's birth story without giving at least a little bit of background on Joe's ...

Joseph was late. Quite late. And we ended up with a vaginal birth, but only after a very difficult three-day induction.

After his birth, I was determined that next time would be different. I did everything I could to make sure that we could get through Hannah's birth with no intervention. It wasn't even so much the induction and the epidural that had bothered me so much (though neither was a picnic), but all the stuff that came with it. When they finally handed me my baby, I couldn't even hold him for all the crap attached to my body (i.v., ekg, blood pressure cuff ...), and I had to hand him right back.

So before I even got pregnant, things were different with Hannah. I kept track of my menstrual cycle, and with a 35 day cycle was given a much more realistic due date (and if I remember correctly, they gave me a week on top of that, just to give me a little cushion!) than I had first go 'round ...

When I tested positive for group B strep, I got on line and researched options to IV antibiotics during labor. I found a possible alternative (garlic is an amazing thing!), talked with both my midwives (they were not on board) and my pediatrician (she was), and felt good that I didn't have to worry about being hooked up to an i.v. during labor, even through a Heperin lock that would allow better mobility ...

I made an appointment to talk with my midwife about natural, herbal and homeopathic options for pain relief should it become necessary, and spent 45 minutes with her making a plan just for that ...

When my due date, (Feb. 9, 2005) came and went and we had to make the appointment for a biophysical profile, I got a little disheartened. It was that BPP at one week past Joseph's due date that set us on the road to induction, after all.

The morning of February 15, I went for my weekly midwife visit and asked them to check and see if I was showing any signs of readiness. With Joseph, the day of my induction I was neither dilated nor effaced. At. All. I was so worried that I would get similar news. Much to my surprise, I was already 5 cm dilated! I was elated. I knew this told me nothing about when the baby would come, but I felt good that should induction become necessary, more natural methods would likely work (and was actually heading to my acupuncturist's that afternoon for the first of my three induction-points appointments).

When I got home I decided to pack an overnight bag to leave at school with Joseph. Then I took him out for a special sushi lunch before dropping him at preschool and rushing off to my acupuncture appointment. While I was still sitting in the car in the preschool parking lot writing out the phone numbers of friends and family that were authorized to pick up Joseph from school, I had the first contraction that seemed different than the Braxton Hicks contractions I'd been having for weeks. Nothing remarkable, just different.

I went back in to school and left them the list, a car seat and the bag, just in case.

But by the time I got half way to my acupuncturist's office, I'd had another contraction. Two minutes long. Twelve minutes later, another one. I waited in my acupuncturist's office ... and another one, 12 minutes past the last one and about two minutes long. When Tony finally came out to tell me it was my turn I told her I thought I might be in labor. She just laughed.

We debated for a few minutes what to do. I was there for induction, but neither of us wanted me to have the baby in her office. But I also didn't want to skip the appointment, have this be a false alarm and have to report for that bpp scheduled for the next day.

We finally decided to go ahead with the appointment, needle the induction points but not stimulate them too much, and just keep track of any contractions while I was there.

I had contractions throughout the whole appointment -- all about 12 to 15 minutes apart and 2 minutes long -- but none so strong that I couldn't laugh and talk through them.

At 3:30, as I walked out to my car, I called Adam and told him to meet me at home. Then I called my midwife and she said, "Well, maybe this will turn into something, maybe it won't. Keep me posted!" and we agreed I'd call again when they got to be about 5 minutes apart.

I pulled out my headset, started the car and called my sister Amy. I wanted to hear what had happened with her second labor and delivery as I knew she had also been about 5 cm dilated when her contractions started and I wanted to know what to expect. "Well, my contractions started at midnight and then I was in labor for about 6 hours once they got regular."

I remember thinking, "OK, 6 hours once they get regular ... Now I know what to expect." But before I even got off the phone another contraction came, and I found it difficult to concentrate on what she was saying. The next contraction, about 12 minutes later, was so strong I had to put on my hazards and pull over. Two minutes later I was back on the road. I limped home this way for the 20 mile-drive.

I had pulled over for the last time, just at the top of my neighborhood, less than 2 miles from my house. But when I got out of the car, I had another contraction before I could close the garage door. I had another one when I got to the corner of the house. I had another one walking into the kitchen. They were more frequent -- practically right on top of each other -- but they were much less intense.

Adam, who had seen me having that contraction at the garage, was ready to go to the hospital. "Let me go upstairs and lay down for a minute and let's figure out what's going on," I said. I didn't want to go too early.

And just as I laid down, the contractions slowed back down ... but got more intense. WHAT?!? How was I supposed to make sense of this. All I could think about was Amy saying that once her contractions got regular -- these were not regular! -- she had six hours.

I laid down, Adam kept packing a bag for the hospital, and we called our doula. (A friend of friend up in Nyack had asked us if we'd like to be one of her training clients.) Then we called my sister-in-law, Jamie, to pick Joseph up at school. No sooner had we gotten off the phone with her when the phone rang. It was Joseph's school. He was sick. Throwing up. And we needed to come pick him up. Right away. Not at 6:00 when Jamie was planning to be there.

I was mid sentence with the director when another contraction hit, and I just handed the phone to Adam. Crap. Now what?

We called our friend Alicia and she agreed to pick Joseph up, but since he was throwing up she understandably didn't want to take him home to infect her own child. We decided she'd bring him here and wait for Jamie to make the hand-off. We called Jamie back and told her of the revised plan. She said she'd get here as soon as she could.

With all the activity, the contraction were closer together, but again less intense. Adam made me a sandwich and I came downstairs to eat it. With all the activity my contractions started coming closer together, but again, the intensity lessened. Very confusing. Adam wanted me to go to the hospital at this point, but again, I didn't want to go too soon.

The rest is a little hazy. I can't find the original birth story I wrote 5 years ago, so the timeline and order of who arrived when is completely sketchy. I think Alicia got there with Joseph first, then the doula, then Jamie. What I do know is that when I called the midwife back to try and make sense of this strange labor pattern I was laughing and she said, "Well, you clearly sound too good to go to the hospital." "So call you when I sound crappy?" "Yes, call me when you sound crappy."

It took all of about five minutes for me to go from laughing to crappy.

I remember that I would have a contraction, hold Joseph when it was over and then pass him off to Adam when another contraction came. Joseph even threw up on my shoulder once.

"Why don't we go to the hospital now?" Adam said. "You can get in the labor tub."

That was it. That's what I needed to hear to get out of the house and into the car.

We called the midwife back and told her we were on our way.

Adam pulled the car up to the front and then came inside to get me, and I remember that before I could stand up I said, "I feel like I need to go to the bathroom" ... and the look on the doula's face when I said it. It was time to push.

We called the midwife back and she told us to call an ambulance. I was about to do it, and then thought "Oh no, they'll take me to Saint Barnabas" -- the hospital closest to me that is not so keen on things that were important to me, like rooming in (I know now that I could have had the ambulance take me to whichever hospital I wanted to go to. Whoops!) -- and then insisted that Adam drive me to the hospital anyway.

I remember getting to the to front steps ... and pushing.

We called the midwife back from the moving car and told her we were on our way to the hospital after all.

I remember telling Adam which way to go, and he wisely decided it was not the time to argue that his way was faster.

I remember gripping the handle over the door and trying to visualize waves with each contractions, trying so hard not to push.

I remember instructing Adam to go through a gas station to cut off a red light ... and then having to jump a median to get back to the road.

*** Adam would like me to make sure that you all know this wasn't a calm ride to the hospital. It was flashers and horn all the way. Driving down the wrong side of the street. Going through red lights. Punctuated with my yelling "I'm pushing!" and Adam yelling back: "Don't Push!!" ***

And I remember pulling into the ambulance bay at the hospital, Adam blaring the horn and being surprised the no one came out. Adam ran in and asked for a wheelchair, and I remember a security guard ambling over with it, and saying "Has your water broken yet?" and my practically screaming at him, "NO, but that doesn't matter!!!"

Adam threw the keys at another security guard and followed me inside.

I remember the blur of faces in the ER as they wheeled me through and into the elevator to the third floor. I remember smiling as they wheeled me into the same room where Joseph has been born 2 1/2 years earlier.

I got out of the chair and put my hands on the bed as I had another contraction. An older nurse came in the room trying to get me to get undressed, into a gown and into the bed.

"We need to get you into that bed," she said.

"I can't."

"You don't want to have that baby on the floor!"

"I'm crowning!"

Adam pulled down my sweatpants ... and as he pulled off my underwear my water broke.

I stuck my hands down and caught Hannah's head, at which point another nurse came around behind me and grabbed her as she slipped the rest of the way out.

"OK, you can go ahead and get in the bed now, whenever you're ready," she said.

Time of birth: 6:44 P.M. Just three hours after I had called Adam and I told him that I wasn't sure, but I thought I might be in labor. Might.

My midwife walked in about 10 minutes later. The doula walked in about 10 minutes after that.

And Adam felt particularly vindicated that by the time the security guard walked back in with the keys we had already had the baby.

~~I can't find~~ Here's the picture we took when Hannah was first born.

Our camera was in the car with the rest of our stuff, so ~~somewhere there lives~~ all we have is this one very grainy picture taken with Adam's phone. ~~If I can find it, I'll post it.~~

Taste Test

2010-02-18T17:51:00.005-05:00

I found myself with a plethora of perfectly ripe avocados -- that's what happens when you buy a bag at Costco and forget about them! -- and sent out a plea to my Facebook friends for some suggestions as to what to do with them.

I got lots of good, tasty sounding recipes, and a couple of so-interesting-I-must-try-them-right-now recipes: Avocado Ice Cream, which sounded a little gross until I saw the tequila content (-: and considered what good luck I've had with both Eating Well and Rick Bayless recipes; and, Avocado Milkshakes, which also sounded a little gross, but which I was eager to try since the suggestion came from my friend Bobby who has been exposing me to delicious food for the past 18 years or so.

Since I defrosted the ice cream maker to make room in the freezer following said Costco trip, that will have to come tomorrow. But the kids and I gave the milkshakes a try this afternoon.

Filipino Avocado Milkshake
Ingredients
1 avocado - peeled, pitted, and cubed
5 cubes ice
3 tablespoons white sugar
1 1/3 cups milk
1 teaspoon fresh lemon or lime juice
1 scoop vanilla ice cream

Directions
Place avocado, ice, sugar, milk, lemon juice, and ice cream into a blender. Puree until smooth.

Reviews were mixed:

Joseph, whose face apparently melts when exposed to a flash, said, "You used perfectly good ice cream in a milkshake that was only just OK?" and also commented that there was "one flavor and then another." I think that means he thought it had an after taste.

Miriam said, "Oh, that is awesome!" And then finished all of hers and part of Joseph's.

Hannah gave it a double thumbs half-up, which means that she only likes it a little bit, but she still finished most of hers.

I liked mine ... after adding a bit more lime. But, to be fair, the avocado I used was perhaps bigger than average.

Would I make it again? It was good enough that I would try it again before making final judgement. Definitely interesting.

Maple Sugaring

2010-02-17T16:25:00.009-05:00

We signed up for a few programs at the Great Swamp in Chatham. Last month we learned about tracking animals. This month was Maple Sugaring. Yum.

Each session starts with about 30 minutes in a classroom. We missed the classroom portion of last months class -- herding turtles that day! -- so I wasn't quite sure what to expect, and turns out it was a mixed bag for our group. Joseph sat still in his chair, shoulders rounded forward, staring out the window. He would periodically lean over and ask me when we were going outside. Hannah, on the other hand, ate up every second of it: she asked questions, she shared ideas, she willing participated in the tree reenactment ...

Here she is hamming it up as the "tough bark" protecting the sapwood.

Joseph actually handled himself quite well. He asked if he could go out in the hall and check out the exhibits lining the walls. I reminded him to be quiet and not to wander too far off, and he was great. He came back in just as the teacher was demonstrating how to tap a tree, and he was ready to head out right on time.

First we checked out the sap, frozen in the buckets:

Then she showed us the evaporators. (Maple sap is 98 percent water, and maple syrup is only about 33 percent water.)

What was really interesting is how quickly Hannah's attention wandered once we got outside, but that's when Joseph engaged. The lesson wasn't any more hands-on outside than it was inside, so I suspect it had more to do with the movement. I'll have to keep track of this a bit and see what the patterns are.

Here's Hannah getting scolded by another girl for eating snow:

We walked over to the wigwam and learned that the Lenape Indians built the frames out of tree saplings and then covered them with either bark or cat tail mats, and talked about how maple syrup was probably discovered by accident when a Native American used it as cooking liquid and discovered the sweet, sticky residue on the food when it was done.

Inside the wigwam:

Joseph was so proud of himself that he was the first kid able to answer the question: "Why is there a hole in the roof." That sheepish little smile of his is priceless.

After the wigwam, it was time to go back inside for maple syrup tasting. We were to compare the two syrup samples -- one maple syrup, one "pancake syrup" -- to see which we liked best and which we thought was which. Both kids enjoyed this, but I'm pretty sure they were expecting to take bottles home. (-:

I wasn't sure what the over-all review of the program would be from the kids, but before I could even ask, Joseph turned to me and said, "Can we come back next time they do a class here? That was fun!"

Next month is Winter Birds, but it will be on Adam. It falls the week I'll be out of town.

Links:

Home Tapping info and supplies

Maple Syrup Facts

Lenape Indian Fact Sheet

"We Shall Strive"

2010-02-17T00:47:00.003-05:00

Hannah was born six days late and after only three hours of labor. I caught her myself, and I've been smitten ever since.

That's me holding Hannah when she was only two days old. We were waiting impatiently to check out of the hospital and bring her home to meet her big brother (Poor kid was recovering from a stomach bug, so he hadn't been able to come to the hospital, and we had to stay longer than we'd planned.).

I read a poem to Hannah at her naming a few months later. And as Hannah gets older, I think more and more -- and more often -- about those words. This birthday, this time in our relationship seems like a good time to reflect on them and rededicate myself to being the kind of parent to her that I have always wanted to be.

adapted from We Shall Strive — Author unknown

We shall strive to make our home
A place where you can become at ease in nature
And endlessly inquisitive about the world;
A place where your body can move to the rhythms of music
And understand its depth,
Where art and reading and sport
The quiet life indoors and hearty life with others outside,
Can help you make the choices through which you will find
The image of God that is yours.

We shall strive to make our home
A place where you can grow to serve your God with joy
To delight in Torah
And help extend the possibilities of your people;

We want you to feel secure in your family, both near and far,
Loyal to your friends,
Not afraid to disagree with those you love,
More and more aware as you grow up that the world needs loving, caring people,
More and more able to take risks, to make commitments, to fight for what you believe,
We want you to know that it is dignified to be a child,
It is a special gift to be a woman.
You are special not only for what you do,
You are special not only for what others may say about you,
You are special because you are.

Hannah is five!

2010-02-16T12:50:00.011-05:00

Yesterday was Hannah's birthday.

She has never had a non-family party, always opting instead to travel to Virginia to celebrate her birthday with her cousins, my sister's kids. All she really wanted this year was to do something on her actual birthday, and her first thought was to invite her NJ cousins to play at an indoor playspace. BUT her birthday fell on a holiday weekend this year, and they had plans to go skiing in the Poconos.

Hmmmm ... what to do? We pushed the playspace/family party idea to next weekend, but we still wanted to make sure that she, our middle child who never feels she gets quite the attention she deserves, had a special day on her actual birthday.

Adam took the day off from work, but as of Sunday afternoon, we still had no real idea what we were going to do to mark the day. We asked Hannah several times and finally she came up with an answer: "Let's go ice skating!"

We asked Hannah if she wanted to invite a friend or two, and she picked an interesting group: a little girl from her preschool class, and a 9YO boy we know from homeschooling. We also decided we needed a sitter for Miriam. I sent off a couple of e-mails, but heard nothing before setting off on our busy afternoon of Costco shopping and traveling into the city to make a delivery to my SIL and dinner.

Hannah fell asleep in the car on the way home, still not knowing if her impromptu birthday party had come together.

Joseph also wanted to make sure Hannah had a special day. He stayed up late to wrap a present for her, one he picked out weeks ago (a hat knit by my MIL and a stuffed animal from her collection): he made a card; he picked the wrapping paper; he added a ribbon, some heart stickers, and a roll of leftover wrapping paper he thought she could use as a telescope. He carried it carefully up the stairs and set it right inside her doorway so that it would be the first thing she saw when she woke.

BIG points for Joseph. Hannah came crawling into my bed in the morning gushing about her present. She noticed EVERY SINGLE detail. But she didn't touch it. She wanted to wait and open it with her brother.

I was also happy to be able to tell her when she woke up that her party had come together: that her friends were coming; that we had a sitter for Miriam; that I'd stayed up late making a strawberry cake, just like she had requested.

Adam went out early and bought Hannah a bunch of balloons:

Hannah, Adam and Joseph at the rink:

Hannah loving her present from her big brother:

The best we could manage for the obligatory "siblings around a cake" shot:

After friends went home, it was off to gymnastics. Both kids were thrilled to show off their new skills for Dad. (-:

A birthday call from cousin Max:

and a game of Shoots & Ladders before heading off to bed:

It was a good, full day.

Happy Birthday, Bean!!

Why I don't like labels

2010-02-16T10:30:00.010-05:00

When I read some of the posts on the unschooling message boards, I'm reminded of discussions I used to have with other new parents about attachment parenting, and it drives me a little mad.

When Joseph was a baby, I'd often find myself in situations like this: Three people would read a single sentence in an attachment parenting book like "Until age X the mother is the primary attachment figure" and interpret it three very different ways.

One would think, "That's not obtainable because I'm going back to work," and discard the rest out of hand.
Another would think, "So I can't let anyone else hold my baby!"
The third would read it and think, "Ah, so that explains why she prefers for me to hold her when she's tired or hurt or in unfamiliar surroundings, and responding to that will help her to be more independent and trusting of others down the road."

I just read a message posted on an unschooling message board by a woman concerned about new governmental regulations imposed on homeschoolers in her area and what they would mean for her unschooled children. She was particularly concerned about how they would "test" in math. She wrote:

"... but [I] have been very bad at expanding on things that have come up, for example buying place value blocks or cuisenaire rods as I am so unsure if it would then be "unschooling" or not...so we have basically stagnated in math."

What is it about "following a philosophy" that makes people throw their own judgement right out the window? I know she will be "set straight" about how introducing tools is different than forcing children to sit down and do drills. I know someone will send her links to "unschooling math." But it seems that in the meantime she has grasped onto a philosophy and discarded her own voice, been worrying more about what she perceives to be "the rules of unschooling" than how her children naturally prefer to learn.

This is my general rule of thumb: if you find yourself thinking, "I'd like to do _______, but it doesn't fit in with _______ philosophy ..."

don't be afraid to pull what works for you and discard the rest. How many things in life are truly one-size-fits all? Even if you don't agree with a specific philosophy in it's entirety, that doesn't mean that it is of no value or that you can't learn from others who more fully embrace it. And you can always "grow into something" down the road.

and do a little more research and see if you are even interpreting it correctly. Maybe it really does fit in with the philosophy and you'll come to a better understanding of how to implement it in your own life. Or maybe you'll realize that that specific philosophy is more wrong for you than right and you'd be happier aligning with a different crowd altogether.

But please, whatever you do, don't just follow along ignoring your own instincts!

Self Portrait Game

2010-02-10T18:58:00.002-05:00

My friend Kate over at MamaYou tagged me in a game going around on flikr. I was to take a self portrait within five minutes of reading her blog post and then post it to my own blog to report what I was doing. So ...

Nursing-Miriam-time is often blog-catch-up-time for me:

But as soon as the camera came out, she became very interested in what I was doing:

and the wrestling match for the camera ensued:

She's awefully cute!

Now Deborah, Mary, Jen, Lisa, Elysa and Kim, let's see yours!

Snow Day

2010-02-10T11:54:00.007-05:00

Joseph headed off down the block hours ago. He loves snow days because it means his school friends are home.

There is a dearth of 5YO girls on the block, however.

I went out with Hannah and Miriam earlier ...

Miriam was happy to cheese it up for the camera ...

but not happy to share the spotlight ...

It would be nice if the outdoors enjoyment lasted at least as long as it took to get dressed, but I guess deep snow is only comfortable for so long when your boots are not as high as the snow is deep! Here's Hannah asking "Can we go in now?"

But nothing a little hot cocoa and TV under a blanket can't fix.

Writing and Dancing with Friends

2010-02-04T17:18:00.017-05:00

We've been getting together most Thursdays with one or two families. It's part of the new Camp Wolff structure ushered in with the new year.

When we go to my friend Stacy's we do some sort of craft-type project. One week it was "what can you build" with random recyclables. Last week if was glue batik -- very cool.

I decided that I would work on writing projects with the kids when they came here. The first week, though, Hannah was laboring with an ear infection, so we laid low, hung out for a
bit ... and then cut it short so I could take Hannah to the doctor.

This week was the first week I was to attempt a writing project with the kids.

I decided to pick an object from the house, and then, one at a time with each kid, let them look at the object, hold the
object ... and then come up with a story to go with it.

While I was figuring out what object to use (and discussing with Stacy whether it should be familiar or foreign), and then setting up, the kids decided it was time for a dress-up dance party:

I decided to go with a regulator from my SCUBA diving days (I do miss those days!) ...

... but to have a pair of goggles at the ready in case anyone was really stumped about what to do with something so unfamiliar.

It was very interesting working with each kid individually.

Sophie, 4, looked at the regulator, described it very
objectively -- "there are some clocks on it, some wires and some yellow on it ..." -- then asked to pick it up and move it to the bed, before pausing and saying "Can I go downstairs, now? I just want to dance." Then "Bye-bye, Sweetie-Pie!" and off she went.

Nate, who just turned 7, was next. Nate was visibly anxious about not knowing what the regulator was: he drummed his fingers, he peered around the room, he sighed deep sighs as he dropped his head on the back of the chair. I asked him if he'd rather write about an object he recognized, but, no he wanted to follow the "assignment."

After a few more displays of discomfort, Nate launched in to his story and talked so fast that I had difficulty keeping up with the typing. Here is his story:

Giant Pumpkin Lands on Thingy

The giant pumpkin landed from the sky, smashed open to 1,000 seeds of bananas and everybody came and saw the bananas and opened them up to 1,000 pieces of confetti that then sprouted open with more seed from the thingy, but instead it grew money and then [the money] landed in the giant pool.

Everybody built 120,000 puzzles and then connected them all together and stuck them up with mud, and then stuck them up with glue and started trying to make it like the Egypt people did, and then sailed about 90 miles away from the Nile.

They passed a log, they passed a hog, the passed a dog, they passed a cow and a carrot, another cow and a banana and some money.

They went over to the money and grabbed it, but apparently it was only copper coin dollar bills. And they went over to find some crazy colored dog over next to an upside down penguin, next to a horse and 1,000 skulls of 21 mashed potatoes of a few heaters, and grabbing gigantic claws.

And then when they finally saw the money, they realized it grew 12,000 thingies in the time of one hour. And while that was happening, a few miles away there was police saying a few things funny that I can discuss.

One police man says to another policeman: "Who would want to rob a house that had 24 hour taper automose schemes of live ponato chips, I mean, potato chips?"

Now we go on to the person who tried to build a boat but he is distracted by watching TV. He made it himself. All it shows him is black news.

And one time the TV says, "Oh, I think it's been a black day for everyone."

And he got so mad that he had to give it to an electrical person, and he had to give him his one and only favorite book.

The end.

Hannah was next. She walked in the room and a look of disappointment spread over her face as she saw the regulator on the desk.

"I want to do it with a princess. They are going to go from castle to castle until there are pretty dresses to go to the ball. And the people that like her ... like the king and the queen and the king's son -- that's the prince -- that like her."

I told her that she could still make it a princess story, but that I'd like her to include the object in the story.

"What do you think that is?" I asked her.

"Rope? Wait ... SCUBA diver! How did I even know that? It looked like the air thingy, so I knew it was a SCUBA diver thingy."

Hannah's Story:

Once upon a time there was a little princess. She went from castle to castle until she found people that liked her. Then she found a very pretty castle that was over water, but there was no bridge, so she used the thing to get across.

And she saw rainbow fishies and sand fishes, and she said "They are camouflaging from the sand and the water."

Then there were sharks behind her and she swam really fast. She got to the part of the bridge that was broken, and she got to the castle, and she had pretty dresses. And they liked her, but she was a little shy. And then she went to the ball.

The end.

Joseph walked into the room. This is EXACTLY what was said, start to finish:

"What is that?"

"Well, what do you think it is?"

"I dunno."

"Well, can you tell me a story about it?"

Once upon a time there was a dinosaur and alien; the dinosaur's name was Mac and the Alien's name was Fred.

Once Mac found this weird object. He took it to Fred, and Fred said, "You found it! My sgoogalygoogagalackin! Here, you can have my mobboly top."

"OK Fred, I'm going to eat lunch. Do you want to have a picnic with me?"

"OK."

The end.

Before Joseph left to go play with the other kids, I mentioned that Hannah was the only one who knew what the object was.

"What is it?" he asked.

"It's a regulator for SCUBA diving. Air goes from the tank, through the hoses, and into the diver's mouth. There's a compass and a gauge to measure how much air there is ..."

"Oh ... Did Hannah write a story about SCUBA diving princess? She said it was going to be about princesses. And I knew mine was going to be about dinosaurs ... and maybe an alien."

***

I must admit that the little exercise turned out differently than I was expecting: having done a fair amount of writing with my own kids, I was expecting their stories to be a little more involved, for one thing. I guess I totally underestimated the pull of kids playing in the other room! And while next time I might try a collaborative project instead (something a little more like The Dragon Girl), I'm glad I worked with them individually this go 'round. Getting a glimpse into the workings of their little brains was great fun and will help me craft the next project more appropriately.

Yogo-Yogo

2010-02-01T00:05:00.006-05:00

Joseph made up a game he calls Yogo-Yogo. It is played with a die, two dinosaurs, and a clam shell with googly eyes.

Here is a close up of his rules sheet. He drew pictures to remind himself how to play.

Here is the explanation in his words:

Rules:

The person whose turn it is rolls the dice; somebody else holds both dragons (you can decide however you want who gets to hold the dragons. Sometimes we vote.)
Whatever number you roll, you have to run around the room that many times.
If you land on a 1, you are out
If the person with two dragons catches you while you are running around the room, you are out.
After you run around the room the number of times you are supposed to, you touch the clam. If you get to the clam before being tagged, you are safe.

Level two:

Whoever completes the first level, goes to level two.
It's the exact same rules.
The last person to still be safe wins.

Last week he asked if he could take Yogo-Yogo to play at Hebrew School (ahem, Jewish Learning Center, in case Morah Sherri is reading.). He cleared it with his teacher first (Morah Rebecca, you have my gratitude!).

When Joseph came home, I asked him how it went.

"Great! ... but it might be going a little overboard to play with so many people!"

Love You Like Crazy Cakes

2010-01-31T01:34:00.003-05:00

My husband sent me the following e-mail last Friday, 9:31 a.m.:

Subject: help the coffee?

Body: did you make these and not tell me?
http://articles.latimes.com/2010/jan/20/food/la-fo-crazy20-2010jan20

Clearly a busy morning at work.

But I'm a sucker for new baked goods (and he knows this), so while he was at Torah study Saturday morning, the kids and I made Crazy Cakes.

"Why are we making cake for breakfast?" Joseph asked. "Is it Happy Family Love Day?"

My sappy-in-a-good-way husband coined that phrase years ago, and it stuck. It comes up again and again.

Joseph decided that Happy Family Love Day was cause for true celebration: candles and a to-do list of activities we would do together. Plus marks meant it was something he wanted to do "but we'll have to see if we get to them." Equal marks were, no negotiation, things we would definitely be doing together.

The kids go all out. Seven candles: one for each member of the family, human and canine.

Happy Family Love Day was lovely. Crazy Cakes? They're good if you need a parve cake. But me, I prefer a little butter in my baked goods.

Wednesday Adventure Day: Newark Museum

2010-01-31T01:29:00.003-05:00

We purchased a membership to the Newark Museum last Summer. Joseph and Hannah and I went one day while Miriam was at the sitters. Adam and I took a members-only, freebie mosaics seminar. We took advantage of the reciprocal day at the Liberty Science Center. But other than that, our membership has been languishing for quite a while.

The kids have been asking to go back, but honestly, I have been a little terrified of going to the museum with all three of them. I've had visions of horrible, expensive, unaffordable disasters at the hands of the littlest once who is no longer keen on being strapped in to either stroller or sling unless she is napping. And if I think about it, I must admit to avoiding other outings due to similar fears. And without a date on a calendar, it has been too easy to make excuses and let time slip by.

Enter Adventure Day: I have decided that each Wednesday we will go on a different adventure. Some place the kids have been dying to go. Or go back. Or that I think will peak their interests or curiosity. Or that peaks my interest or curiosity and I think they will tolerate.

The kids picked a return trip to the Newark Museum as adventure number one, so off we went.

I was quite impressed when Joseph answered the "Where shall we go first?" questions with: "Why don't we go to the beads you wanted to see last time, Mom?" Impressive memory. And brownie points for thinking of me. (-;

We were the only people in the exhibit hall, which helps me not get all wound up over how loud the kids are being or whether they are right by my side. It was nice. Joseph and Hannah and I could watch the video about how the glass was ground, melted and molded into beads while Miriam wandered off a bit to look at all the pretty colors.

We then wandered through the Art of the Americas collection, where the kids had the most fun looking at the Native American beaded garments and the carved bowls and spoons.

Two small exhibits and it was clear the kids needed to run around a bit, so we headed up to the third floor where some of the more kid-friendly, interactive exhibits are. It's also the only place we could take pictures.

Some favorite pieces:

After the kids burned off some energy on the third floor, we headed to the Mini Zoo where Miriam was mesmerized by the Marmosets, and Joseph and I got to watch the screech owl eat a mouse. Hannah's favorite part was looking at fish scales under a microscope.

Right next door was another interactive exhibit about the history of money. Both older kids enjoyed playing a game about the barter system, and Joseph dove into a computer game where he got play around with the costs of running a bakery. After running his business into the ground several times -- skipping out on rent, setting his prices too high, being overrun by rats -- he was quite proud when he finally hit on the formula for success. (No doubt it's information he is filing away for the fruit restaurant he plans to open at the beach when he's an adult.)

We were all spent at this point so we grabbed our coats and headed outside to the Fire Museum.

We also took a quick peak into the one-room school house. I wish I'd taken a couple of pictures in there. Joseph was quite taken with the description of how the school master kept order: corporal punishment involving a rod or stick, as well as the stool in the corner adorned with a dunce cap. I immediately noticed the picture of a McGuffey Reader, the books the students of that one-room school house used in place of the type of text books kids use today. My grandmother had a shelf full of the same vintage McGuffey Readers on her bookshelf! They looked like this. I wonder what happened to them.

Now that I have survived a trip to the Newark Museum with all three in tow, I'm feeling a little bolder about our activities. We will certainly be going back as we didn't come close to seeing all the exhibits, and there are new installations going up now.

This week's adventure will be the Rutgers Geology Museum. Also known as the "Dinosaur and Mommy" museum at our house.

An experiment of sorts

2010-01-27T11:48:00.004-05:00

I'm trying something: On a friend's advice I ordered The Lightening Thief from Amazon, and after letting it sit around for a week or so, we finally cracked into it last night at bedtime.

Joseph was reluctant at first -- "I can just wait until the movie comes out." But that's just the point. I think it will be really interesting to read a book together and then go see the movie and see his reaction. Do a little compare and contrast. I'm hoping we'll have it finished in time for the February 12 release date.

We only got through one chapter last night, but I think he's hooked. We're going to have to pick up the pace a little bit, but 22 chapters in 18 days should be more than doable if he's into it.

I'll keep you posted.

My Interview on Homeschooled Faces

2010-01-25T11:14:00.005-05:00

Check this out: I was interviewed for the new Homeschooled Faces blog Kate Albright started.

Kate first documented one of our many trips to Trenton as we rallied and lobbied for marriage equality:

http://homeschooledfaces.blogspot.com/2010/01/speaking-out.html

That picture up there is one of my favorites and can be seen on Homeschooled Faces Picasa page, along with the other extra pictures from the day. Kate's caption for this one is: Encouraging her eldest while paper airplane stays tucked in pocket. That lobby day was pretty tough on the kids, but they did really well, and this picture just sort of tells the whole story in one shot.

Kate then interviewed me about why marriage equality is important to me and also about my experiences and philosophies with homeschooling thus far. That interview can be read here:

http://homeschooledfaces.blogspot.com/2010/01/interview-with-angela.html

I'm so pleased with how the whole experience turned out. And feel very lucky that Kate captured some very beautiful moments of me and the kiddos. Thanks, Kate!

Playing Catch-Up

2010-01-22T11:07:00.004-05:00

It's been a long, LONG time since I've posted anything. So now I will attempt to play catch up and post pictures and snippets of some of my favorite moments of the past few months.

So in no particular order, there's been ...

knot tying:

and crafting:

and fort making:

and famous artist imitating:

visiting with cousins:

and playing in the snow:

and visiting with cousins while playing in the snow:

museum trips with friends:

and four trips to Trenton to rally and lobby for marriage equality. One of which was documented on the new Homeschooled Faces blog my friend Kate started.

The kids made their own shirts:

They told me what to write and then drew their own pictures. They were a big hit at the State House. Many, many, MANY people stopped and asked them if they could take their pictures. This one above came from Garden State Equality volunteer Will Aubrecht.

Rallying and lobbying can only hold a kid's attention for so long, so to entertain themselves they and some other homeschooling friends created a secret spy game in which Agents Whippo (Joseph) and Flamingo (Hannah) ran reconnaissance missions to count the opposition, or as they called them, "The Red Team." I love how in these pictures you can tell that Joseph was actually hiding behind statues and fountains:

I must say, the rallies inspired some very interesting discussions. There were the expected questions about the legislative process, but there were also the comparative religion discussions. Joseph immediately recognized the Hasidim that gathered in opposition to marriage equality as fellow Jews, and just couldn't understand how they could be standing there holding signs that said things like "Gay Union: A threat against the Almighty." If we were Jews and they were Jews, how could we have such different ideas?

The new year is bringing some new activities and routines:

Hannah started a new gymnastics class, and Joseph signed up for rock climbing at the same time. I only managed a few lousy shots the first day of class.

Hannah on the ropes:

and Joseph on the wall:

As much as Joseph likes rock climbing, it didn't take him long to get trampoline envy. The kids' classes are separated by nothing but a net. After the second night of classes he asked if he could try gymnastics, too, so this week we went on a different night so Joseph could do the rock climbing/gymnastics combination class. So hooked is he that he's dropping the rock climbing all together for an hour of gymnastics.

We have also been invited by friends to a bi-monthly "what can you build out of this" get together. When we opened the door to their house we found a table covered in cardboard tubes, drinking straws, pipe cleaners, etc., as well as scissors, staplers, glue and rolls and rolls of tape. This is right up my kids' alleys and they dove right in:

And I've signed us up for a monthly nature program at the Great Swamp.

The first program was on tracking, and the kids had a good time trying to spot animal tracks in the mud. There wasn't a whole lot of variety, mostly deer and dog (grrr. not allowed on the trails, actually), but we did spot a couple of red foxes bounding through the woods. And there was quite a bit of variety in the deer prints. We learned how to tell how big the deer was and how quickly it was moving. Next months program is about making maple sugar. I'm sure to have some willing participants for that!

There's also been lots of reading, cooking, geo board designing, animation software experimenting, and lots and lots of Wii-ing.

OK, I think that catches us up. Phew.

The Dragon Girl

2009-11-03T14:13:00.018-05:00

A collaborative story, written and illustrated by Joseph, Hannah and me while Miriam napped. See if you can figure out which parts were written by whom!!

The Dragon Girl

Once upon a time, long, long ago in the time of knights and dragons, there was a young girl named Penelope. And she lived in a small cabin in the woods with her mother, father, and baby brother.

One day she went out and saw a dragon. She was so scared she ran on her roof, covering herself with pillows and boogers.

And somebody came along to fight the dragon. And the dragon was dead so the guy went away. And a doggy came along; she was a cute-cute puppy. And her name was Clolly.

Penelope and Clolly climbed down from the roof and looked around in wonder: How was that mysterious person able to slay the dragon so quickly? She was determined to find the person and ask him (or was it a her?) to teach her everything he (or was it she?) knew about fighting dragons so she would never again have to cower on her roof (She especially never wanted to ever cover herself in boogers again!).

But then another dragon came along. He was the king dragon. Invincible. With his army of other dragons. But the king dragon was invincible so he could not be killed.

Then the fighting girl came along and killed his army guys. All of them. And she was a girl. And she also had a sword. And a thing to block their fire. And blood came out of them, too.

As she wiped the sweat from her brow, she saw Penelope and Clolly huddling together in a corner. She swooped them up and threw them across the back of her horse. "I can’t kill the king dragon -- because he is invincible-- but I CAN whisk you away to safety! We will ride to my castle and shut the enormous steel gate. The King Dragon will not be able to get us there."

But then, back where the dragon was right outside the castle, a superhero came. He was called Robo, and he had super robot powers, and he could kill the dragon. The King Dragon was dead!

The End.

OK, in case you hadn't guessed it, the order went: me, Joseph, Hannah. Two things strike me about this: 1) how sad is it that my drawing skills have not improved over the past 25 years? I'm just not a natural artist; and 2) it was very interesting how frustrated Hannah got with Joseph for, as she saw it, breaking the rules. First he said the Dragon King was invincible, then he brought in a Super Hero to finish the job.

Hannah, who spaced out a bit there at the beginning with the cute-cute puppy, really got into it once she realized it could be a girl that comes in to kill the dragon and save the day. But she and I went with Joseph's "invincible" line.

It was her turn after Robo slew the previously invincible dragon. First she protested with a "that's not fair." She had wanted to off the dragon but thought she couldn't. Then she said, "I guess I can just make it a happy ending. 'The End.'"

But let's get back to my drawing skills: Looking at that last picture I drew, I can understand why the Dragon Girl's gender was in question.

Putting it all together

2009-10-27T11:44:00.008-04:00

Hannah just came in holding her apple, looking all concerned, and said:

"Mom, what is an apple, really?"

Confused, I asked her what she meant.

"I mean, what animal does it come from? You know, like pork chop is really pig. Where does apple come from?"

Will be interesting to see which way this goes for my girl: vegetarian or unabashed omnivore?

[Note: I stole the image of a Fuji apple from The Cook's Thesaurus.]

Language

2009-10-21T16:12:00.007-04:00

I've been riffing on language with Joseph for years. The conversation has always gone something like this.

Joseph: When I want to ask for water, I'll say, "Will you bring me some glurp?"

Me: That's fine, but if you want someone else to understand what you're talking about, you might just want to just say "water."

Joseph: Why? I like saying "glurp" instead of "water."

Me: Well, Jospeh, that's just how language works. Everybody gets together and decides what they, as a group, are going to call things and then they all understand what each other is talking about. So you can say glurp, but unless everyone else agrees and remembers ... well, you just might not get what you want.

Joseph: Ummm ... may I have a glass of glurp please?

Then he'd flash an impish grin and run out the room.

We've had that same conversation countless times. Each time the outcome is the same: I get the 4- 5- 6- or 7-year-old boy equivalent of eye rolls and "What everrrr!"

Well, a week or so ago we had yet another language conversation.

"I don't never get to do what I want!"

I resisted the urge to launch into grammar correction mode and first attended to the frustration -- I guess I was having a good day (-; -- but after I got him smiling I told him about double negatives. He seemed mildly interested. He laughed when I explained what his complaint had really meant. But he started to glaze over pretty quickly. I expected to have the conversation again.

But just now, as the kids were playing in the fort they constructed in the sun room, I heard this:

"You can't say that Hannah. 'I ain't never seen ...' means 'I see always ...' It's a double negative. Really!"

A first movie (Campsite fun)

2009-10-15T12:46:00.002-04:00

While Miriam was napping and Hannah was playing in the dirt, Joseph decided to direct me in shooting a few videos.

Here is his first-ever movie:

At the end, I said, "So you're dead?" And he said, "It was the third part. The bad guy always dies at the end of the third part."

Noted.

Camp Wolff goes Camping

2009-10-14T22:56:00.034-04:00

After a few nights in the backyard, and a few more at my in-laws' lake house, Camp Wolff decided to do some camping for real.

I don't mean the kind where you go hiking through the woods with your tents strapped to your packs and take only as many provisions as you can carry. I mean the kind where you get in your car and drive right up to your campsite and pretend to rough it, sleeping in a tent and cooking your meals outdoors even though there's a hotel and McDonald's just down the road.

But still, with three kids, it's roughing it enough, don't you think?Especially for a first go round?

Anyway, we payed WAY more than we should have for a spot on Kittatinny's property on the Delaware, and after a few initial frustrations (they tried to charge us to upgrade our site even though we were the only tent campers on the entire property!) we settled in an had a fantastic time. Seeing an eagle soar down the river very first thing certainly helped set the mood!

So, here you go ... my image obese posting of Camp Wolff goes Camping:

Of course, we made it to our campsite much later than planned. So, while Adam set up the tent, I got started on dinner. We brought this teeny-tiny camping grill so that we could at least get things going before Adam had a chance to make the fire. We did pork chops sliced very thin, zucchini that I had chopped and seasoned at home (That's it there in the foil. Thanks for the suggestion, Jim.) and baked potatoes that I had pre-cooked and then reheated in the fire.

Meanwhile, the kids occupied themselves with walking along the edge of the river and burying Barbie dolls in the dirt.

It was quite dark by the time dinner was done (we finished cooking it on the camp fire, because it would have taken us forever on that disposable grill). After roasting marsh mellows the kids decided it was time for wrestling. The only way we could see them was to take flash pictures; I just aimed roughly in the direction of the noise. This is what we saw:

When we finally turned in, I asked everybody what their favorite part had been so far.

Joseph picked balancing on the rocks at the edge of the water: "I'm really good at it!"

Hannah picked roasting and eating marsh mellows.

Adam picked the first bite of pork chop.

I picked seeing the Bald Eagle. No picture. You'll just have to take my word for it: it was kind of magical.

The trip marked the first time using our new tent and our new sleeping bags. Everyone seemed to be warm enough except for me. Not sure if it were the bag, the bigger-than-necessary roof vents, or the fact that I had to keep waking up to nurse Miriam so was therefore more aware of the temperature. I could hardly wait for it to get light enough to justify going out and getting breakfast (and coffee!) started.

Hannah looks like she might have preferred to stay in the tent just a while longer.

Here I am cooking breakfast -- scrambled eggs with cheddar cheese and a little milk -- on the fire (Thank God for charcoal because the wood we bought at the campsite was crap and wouldn't burn!) as my adoring fans look on.

And here they are all eating it without a single person complaining or asking for their eggs to be cooked a different way than everyone else's. Hmmmm. Maybe I should cook outside more often. Also, we forgot plates so we all made our own little dishes out of aluminum foil.

Joseph asked to go on an adventure after breakfast: he wanted to hike the creek bed that runs through the campground ...

... and under Interstate 84 (It wasn't a very long hike. The highway noise at the campsite was pretty unbelievable.).

The kids did their best to stay dry. At least until that first foot got wet. Then they decided it was more fun just to walk right through the freezing cold water (again, it wasn't a long hike.). Here is Joseph looking quite pleased with himself as he's standing ankle-deep in the water.

On the way back he went up to his knees and even fell a few times. He was soaked by the time we got back to camp, but the day was warming up nicely, so no lasting damage.

As Adam started cleaning up the campsite, I put Miriam down for her nap, (Bless the child that will sleep anywhere!) and then played with the other two.

Hannah must have thought Barbie was tired, too, because every where we went she made her a little bed. We also had to whisper a lot because, apparently, it was Barbie's birthday, and Hannah was planning her party.

After we got the campsite completely packed up, there was just enough time before checkout for skipping rocks.

We said good-bye to our beautiful spot on the river and headed for home.

But not before stopping off in Stokes State Forest and scoping out a couple of beautiful campsites for next Summer. Anyone want to join us?

(Just a little of) What we've been up to lately.

2009-10-12T09:10:00.006-04:00

Life has been busy lately. I've had little time to write, but I'm trying to remember to pull out the camera more.

Here's a quick (albeit limited) glimpse into our lives as of late. We've been:

Icing injuries.

Playing with blocks.

Checking out the new Gibbons exhibit at the zoo.

Conducting physics experiments.

Meeting a new family member (to join us soon).

Talking about reproduction.

Celebrating a birthday.

Not Back to School

2009-09-09T22:49:00.013-04:00

"When do you plan to start?" is a question I've been getting as people around here get their kids ready for back to school.

Start? Veteran unschoolers always advise newbies to think not so much "school at home" as "extended summer vacation."

So today, while the cars lined our street as parents dropped their kids off for the first day of school ... we extended!

There was sidewalk chalk:

an outdoor art studio:

and a science experiment:

Joseph knew what was going to happen as soon as the paper towel started absorbing the water, but Hannah was very intrigued by the way the yellow and blue separated out of the green ink.

There was observation of the cool-but-creepy spider that has taken up residence on the side of the garage:

and more sidewalk chalk:

There was also a trip to the pool at the JCC and to the library for another bag full of books, as well as a mid-day dentist appointment for Joseph.

So, no, we didn't really start homeschooling today because it was a day just like any other day this Summer. But what today was was the first official day we didn't go back to school. And it was fun.

Getting Organized

2009-08-28T21:11:00.008-04:00

We finally decided to give up the delusion of having a dining room with a single purpose. Without lots of common rooms, it was turning much more into a space for arts-and-crap than eating, and it took an hour's worth of clean-up every time we decided to sit down for a meal.

When thinking of organizational fixes for the mess, I knew no solution that involved filing or storing needed items in tidy little boxes would work for me. Out of site is most definitely out of mind. And while there are many thing this room needs if it is to ever be both functional and attractive, I decided the first order of business was some way to put calendars, bills, to-do lists and a handful of art projects right in my face. A bulletin board seemed like the obvious choice.

I had the idea for a big bulletin board even before we made the decision to homeschool -- the sheer volume of worksheets, permission slips, reminders, and drawings that came home from both schools was overwhelming in and of itself -- but now that we will all be using it as our home base for projects and activities of every variety ... well, it was just time.

As luck would have it, we had one big empty wall in our dining room. But when I started researching bulletin boards, I was shocked at the prices. We're talking hundreds of dollars for a nothing-fancy, school room-style board. I considered magnetic paint briefly, but thought that might pose more problems if we ever wanted to reclaim and repaint the walls ...

Then my brilliant friend Jung suggested homasote board. It comes in 4 ft. x 8 ft. sheets for about $25 at Home Depot, and they'll cut it for you. I had mine cut to 4 ft. x 6 ft., loaded it into the back of my van, and then ... well, then I let it sit, stowed behind the futon in the sun room, for a couple of months.

This weekend I finally pulled out fabric to cover it. There was the plain, natural, undyed cotton I got from Wal-Mart for less than $3/yard. That seemed like the obvious, neutral, CHEAP choice, but it was just too boring. There was also the bright orange vintage sheet with white flower print my sister gifted me on my last visit, but as much as I loved it, just the thought of covering the whole board in that fabric made my eyes bleed a little. The peachy linen with pale-white polka dots I picked up at an estate sale seemed like a happy medium, but it was just as boring as the beige when spread across the expansive board, and really much better suited to spring dresses for the girls.

I finally decided on the natural cotton with a splash of the orange sheeting. I deconstructed a pillow case and quickly stitched the two fabrics together. I had planned to use spray tac to help hold the fabric to the board, but rain hampered my plans, and it's just as well. I found a how-to here that walked me through stapling the fabric to the board. It was very easy, and no huffing glue to worry about.

Check out my finished product, all pretty and austere. Speaking of austere, did you see the board in my how-to link? First, her corners are much neater than mine. But check out her fabric! Did I see that before and just forget? I feel like a copy cat. Though I have a feeling it won't be long before our boards look much different. Hers will probably stay pretty and austere much longer than mine. I just don't have that aesthetic.

See?!?

Half an hour after my board hits the wall, this is what it looks like. I'm playing around with a week-at-a-glance-type calendar. That's what those index cards are. I'm not loving them. Or their colors! I'm thinking some sort of die-cut letters to mark the days of the week. Adam suggested hanging ribbon beneath each day marker off of which I could then hang my activity cards. That would keep me out of T-pin hell.

And while I like the positioning of the calendar for seeing what's going on, I think I may need to move it down. See that blue rubber floor tile there on the sideboard? I had to kneel on that while I put up the calendar. That's probably not what I want to do every time I make a change, huh?

I also have the two Lucite wall pockets: one for bills and one for brochures, etc. of places we might want to go. We'll see. It's a function I need, I'm just not so sure about the execution.

What I am loving, though, is having somewhere easy to display some of the kids' art work. I plan to change it up frequently (they are prolific), though I may be hard pressed to take down my current favorite:

That's Hannah's self portrait.

"Look, Mommy. That's me! And there's my blue pen!"

Makes me laugh every time I see it.

OK, I'm looking for suggestions of what to do with that calendar. Somebody please help me out. I don't want my beautiful bulletin board to go ugly.

Sick Days

2009-08-20T14:20:00.007-04:00

We've been cooped up in the house all week with the dreaded Coxsackie. First Miriam got the terrible little blisters inside her mouth that kept her from eating or even nursing. Then Joseph and Hannah complained of scratchy throats. Joseph got croupy, as he is prone to do. Then Hannah followed suit.

(They are all feeling just fine now, thank you very much, but are likely still shedding virus, so I'm trying to be responsible.)

So, as annoying as it is to be cooped up in the Summer, mostly what it has me thinking about is how conflicted I was feeling about Joseph and his sick days toward the end of the school year.

Joseph missed 25 days of school last year -- 25!!! -- and was late another 16. They didn't give me an accounting of how many days the nurse called me to come pick him up because he was "sick."

That's it. It's the air quotes around the word sick that had me in a knot.

As a true believer in Attachment Parenting, I have always felt that because of my connection to the kids, I know what's going on with them. I know the motivations behind their actions even when they seem contradictory, and I can read the expressions on their faces from across the room or when the words don't come.

But there we were, all playing a part in this institutionalized lie.

After numerous "miraculous recoveries" and numerous frustrations over interrupted days and plans, I began to question and doubt when Joseph told me he didn't feel well. I encouraged the nurse to try and cajole him into staying at school when he showed up in her office sans fever or other symptom that would necessitate his leaving.

That's not to say that I didn't believe that he didn't feel "well." I just wasn't sure what to do. What the right thing to do was.

Part of me wanted to say, "Joseph, if you don't want to go, just stay home." And then spend the day reconnecting and refilling his emotional tank.

But part of me worried about "what message it would send." About following rules. About doing hard things. About making the best of a less than perfect situation. And rightly or wrongly, that's the part that won out. Over, and over, and over again.

So, here we are. All sick in the middle of summer when we'd rather be at the pool or the movies (I'd promised Ponyo) or visiting friends. And there's not a doubt in my mind about how the kids feel. And there's not a doubt in my mind about how to react to it. Or the teeniest worry that I must make sure they don't "have too much fun" for fear that it will encourage them to malinger another day.

And I'm realizing that it feels good.

12. tea parties

2009-08-19T00:10:00.010-04:00

The kids decided the other day that it was a nice day for a tea party. So they got dressed in their "best clothes" (Joseph's suggestion) while I put the water on to boil, and then they set the menu while the tea was steeping.

Blueberry Rooibos tea and water to drink
Rice cakes and soy crisps with apple butter
Cherries
Cheese

(A little monochromatic for my tastes, but it was sort of thrown together in a hurry.)

We pulled out the china because, well, when else is it going to get used? And then each of the kids invited a "guest."

Hannah invited Ariel.

Joseph invited a slinky. Mr. Slinky, to be exact. (You can see him up top taking a bite of Joseph's rice cake. ) I guess any toy with a social title should be welcome at the tea party, no?

Yet another item from the list checked off. I don't know if the kids even remember that there is a list -- I'm not reminding them, they just ask to do things and we do them -- but it makes for a good filler for the blog. (-:

29. play in the doorways

2009-08-14T08:52:00.009-04:00

My little monkey boy has a new favorite way to expend energy:

Number 29 from the list, "play in the doorways."

The picture above is pretty standard, he just wedges himself between the two doorways and schooches up. But one of his newest tricks is to just walk straight up one wall. I suspect the bottoms of his feet resemble those of a tree frog, but I haven't been able to verify this.

Then there's the trick his father just can't bare to watch for fear that Joseph will come crashing down on his head:

Surprise, surprise: this one is Joseph's favorite.

And, not to be outdone, Hannah ...

and Miriam ...

must get in on the action.

The second official act

2009-08-10T22:43:00.006-04:00

So, the first official act in the transition from "Camp Wolff" to "The Wolff School" (That's got to be catchier. Give me a little time.) was to go to the library. The second official act was to join the JCC.

When we first started considering this little adventure, the two things I worried about most were finding some time for myself and finding some one-on-one time with each kid. Not that there aren't plenty of other things to worry about -- will my kids be able to read, will they be on track with their peers, blah, blah, blah -- but strictly from a sanity stand point ... I mean everything else could be picture perfect, but if I never got a break from the kids, well, I can't imagine it would go too well. And I didn't relish the thought of running out the door the second Adam walked in, either. I like my husband and enjoy spending time with him. I'd need to find my breaks some other way.

Miriam's babysitter has been great for her up until now, but 1) she moved from down the street to the next town over. Not far, but no longer exceedingly convenient, either. And 2) she's a warm, nurturing grandmotherly type. Perfect considering Miriam started going once a week when she was just 5-months-old, but now that she's getting older and more active, I don't think it's the ideal setting. Would she be right for Joe and Hannah? Definitely not.

I talked to another woman I know who watches kids and who comes highly recommended by a dear friend. But I did the math, and to send two kids (not even three!) once a week would end up being half of what I'm "saving" by pulling Hannah from preschool.

I was starting to worry about this "me time" business.

Then two weeks ago a friend offered me her half share in a CSA. She was going on vacation and didn't want it to go to waste. Pick-up was at the JCC. I ended up taking all three kids with me, and after we picked up our veggies and eggs, we walked around the art gallery. We walked out in the garden. We wandered down the halls and looked at the artwork on display. On our way out I asked for some membership information.

We've joined the JCC several times since moving here. It's only 3 miles from the house and the facilities, nice at the time, have been updated and expanded. I joined the masters swim team for a while. I took a jewelry making class and an Israeli folk dancing class. Joseph took swimming lessons there once (if sitting on the side watching counts). But mostly I've made poor use of my memberships in the past.

But this time I think joining the JCC could be the secret to our homeschooling success. One of the new features is two hours/day of included babysitting!

That's HUGE. It means someone else will play games and do art projects with the kids while I go swimming, take a yoga class, or even sit in the cafe sipping an iced coffee and reading a book! It also means I can take one kid swimming or walking the track (or maybe even using an empty dance or art room?) without having to watch the other two at the same time.

Did I mention? HUGE.

This sounds silly even as I say it, but I feel like a huge weight has been lifted off of me.

I think this time I may finally get my money's worth at the JCC.

The Hannah Question

2009-08-09T20:22:00.015-04:00

It's a question I get. A lot. "You're pulling Hannah, too? Why?"

It's a good question. And one I struggled with. Perhaps even -- no, definitely even -- more than the one about what was right for Joseph.

Hannah is not the child having trouble in school. Of course, like any other kid, there were days that she didn't want to go. Days that she would have preferred to stay home with Mommy. (And days that I let her.) But basically she loved her preschool class, and I love-LOVED both her teachers and the program.

With a February birthday, Hannah still had one more year of preschool before starting kindergarten. What to do? Leave her in the preschool program I loved, or bring her home with her brother?

My first concern was that, as the middle child who never feels she's getting enough attention, Hannah would start to resent going off to school everyday while Joseph stayed home with me. And I still think that is a valid concern, though perhaps I might have had some success spinning it as "Hannah's special place", etc.

Budget was also a concern. Preschool is not inexpensive. And while I plan to do my best to homeschool on a shoestring, it would be foolish to think that I won't need some money for materials, art supplies, and "field trips." (The preschool director was kind enough to tell me that if it came down to a decision about money, to let her know. Love her. One stress removed!)

The decision finally came down to flexibility. The most appealing thing about homeschooling is the freedom to do what you want when you want. But if we were also dependent on a preschooler's schedule -- 5 days per week from 9-12 (though I had signed her up for two 2 p.m. days for cooking and art) -- we'd have the worst of both worlds, not the best. How could we make a day of a trip to The City to visit the Museum of Natural History or travel mid-week to visit family out of state?

Ultimately I decided that if we were going to have a shot at success with this thing, we had to really do it. Go all in. Commit. And worst case, if Hannah desperately misses school, it will be an easy transition for her into kindergarten next year.

I do feel like my biggest challenge this year will be to find girls for Hannah. She needs her girls. And preschool offered a class full of them! But I've already started laying the ground work to find us some new friends with girls her age. And we can always set up afternoon playdates with her friends from preschool (Lucila, you should be expecting my call!)

Let me know if you have a 4- or 5-year-old who loves to play "princess tea party" only slightly more than she likes to play dress up. It would help if she also were the type to delight in spitting watermellon seeds and who knows her way around a fart joke.

And I welcome suggestions from veteran homeschoolers of what they do to make sure each kid gets his or her due.

There. I did it.

2009-08-04T16:49:00.004-04:00

After much soul searching, researching, discussing and fretting ... I finally did it. I officially withdrew Hannah and Miriam from preschool and composed the letter (I'll send tomorrow by certified mail) alerting the West Orange school district that Joseph will be receiving his education "elsewhere than at school."

It's a little scary, but it also feels good. And right.

Our first official act was to go to the library and check out a total of seven books, four books on tape, and six movies. Then we went to the pool.

So give a cheer! And wish us luck!

31. go to the zoo

2009-07-24T17:56:00.014-04:00

It's nice having a membership to the zoo, even if I don't always make as good of use of it as I intend. Today, after crossing 19. go ice skating from the list and realizing it was too cloudy for 45. go to the pool, we decided to walk from the arena to the zoo to kill the two hours left until needing to pick Miri up from the sitter's. Membership makes such quick trips feasible -- and frankly, two hours is about my limit at the zoo. I'm glad we went as we discovered a couple very exciting additions since our last visit:

1. young prairie dog pups.

The prairie dogs are usually cute, but 20 or so pups make for a very active, very wrestley display:

Hannah was enthralled and stayed watching them long after Joseph wandered over to the playground. That's the other nice thing about the membership: I don't care how they want to spend their time once inside the gates. If I'd payed a day-rate admission I'd have to fight the urge to rush them along to look at the animals. With the membership, if they want to go just to look at the penguins, ride the train, or even play on the playground, it's fine by me.

2. the new Budgie Aviary

I may have known somewhere that this was happening, but it was a lovely surprise. Only complaint: Just give the kids the little seed sticks to feed the birds rather than charge $2 for seed that likely costs less than pennies. Please!

Of course I forked over $2 for one stick, and we were lucky enough that someone handed us two more sticks they were done with, so we all got to play along.

Joseph was very patient waiting for a bird to land on his stick. I was so impressed with him when, after waiting for at least 10 minutes to lure a bird onto his stick and having another child knock it right off, he brushed his disappointment aside and picked another less crowded spot to try again. He squealed with delight when that first bird landed on his stick and let him lift it into the air.

Hannah would only feed blue birds. And insisted that they be referred to as "she" and "her." She also preferred her stick to stay resting firmly on the ground.

We finished our outing with a ride on the train.

As we were leaving the kids asked, "Can we come back tomorrow to go into the reptile house?"

Maybe not tomorrow, but Monday or Tuesday sounds good.

My conflicted boy

2009-07-01T10:27:00.009-04:00

I feel like we've been on quite the "should we-shouldn't we-when should we" roller coaster over the decision to homeschool.

I first started thinking about it in the Spring when Joseph's first grade teacher started working with the OT to brainstorm ideas for how to keep him focused and in his seat. While I appreciated that she understood his need to move, it really started to bother me that he -- or any kid his age -- was expected to sit SO LONG in the first place.

Then I put it together with how much effort he seemed to put into not doing his work, how many days he didn't want to go to school or the nurse called me to pick him up early, and the dynamic of trying to get him to do his homework while simultaneously managing the other two, and homeschooling started to seem like something we should be considering. (shudder)

While I considered and researched and doubted and fretted and lurked on message boards and researched some more, I made very certain not to mention homeschooling anywhere within earshot of the kids. What if he wanted to and I decided I couldn't?

Then one day about a month later, when Joseph was recovering from chicken pox -- in all he was absent two solid weeks -- I said:

"So, you must really be looking forward to going back to school after being home so long, huh?"

"No, not really."

"Really? You don't miss it at all?"

"Well, I miss my friends. And I like math."

"That's it? What would make school better for you?"

"Doing it here with you."

Part of me felt like screaming at him "Where did you hear about that? Whose been putting these ideas in your head?"

And part of me smiled, thinking, "See, I do know my boy."

But at the same time I was completely terrified. What if I couldn't do it? What if a few months in, I wanted to send him back?!? That wouldn't be good.

I told Joseph we'd think about it, and if we decided it was the right thing to do, we'd do it.

He was pretty sure. Every time something about second grade came up, he'd say something to the effect of, "Oh yeah, I'm not going to second grade. I'm going to be here with you."

A new life?

As I wrapped my head around the idea of bringing Joseph home and what it would look like, how it would work, what to do with the other two, I wavered between "This is exactly what we should be doing" and "This is crazy! What am I thinking?"

I found the more that I lurked on unschooling message boards and read books and articles about unschooling, the stronger my resolve and self confidence. I finally started "coming out" to friends and family about our plans for next year, I started getting together with a group of local women all planning to home school either next year or in the near future ... I'd made a decision and it felt right. Until ...

Well, until I realized that part of the reason Joseph wanted to home school next year was because he was afraid he wouldn't be able to do the work. Seems his self esteem took a bit of a hit the last few months of the school year and he had convinced himself he would be able to succeed:

"In second grade we'll have to get everything right, and I don't think I can do that," he'd say.

I started to wonder if maybe it weren't the right time, the right set of circumstances, to pull him from school. Did I really want him thinking the reason he was coming home was because he couldn't do the work if he stayed?

I had a conference with his old kindergarten teacher (one of his biggest fans and best allies) and, as the current reading specialist, someone who still works with Joseph on a regular basis. She told me that she was sure the teacher to whom he'd been assigned for second grade was a good match for him.

Maybe sending him to school, at least for a while, was the thing to do? There's also the matter of the speech evaluation scheduled for the beginning of the school year. I know having him home would likely interfere with his getting therapy through the school. Pretty sure in NJ they have to do the evaluation, but they don't have to offer services.

I suggested to Joseph that I thought we should start out second grade, give it a try, and reevaluate in December, but assured him that if at any point he was truly unhappy, he could come home.

He wasn't buying it. And I was again conflicted. I really believe that traditional school is not ever going to be the right place for Joseph. But I still had those nagging doubts about the circumstances. But then again, something his kindergarten teacher said kept sticking in my head, too. She said, "The thing I like about doing what I'm doing now," meaning NOT being a classroom teacher, "is that I really get to TEACH." Even the teachers know school is not what it should be ...

The end of the year came, and Joseph was sure that he would not be going back to school. So much so that he didn't even look to see who his teacher was going to be. (See School's out for ... ever?)

So, home we will be then. I can do this!

Then just two days later, in a moment of solitude and introspection found on a trapeze, he has a proclamation:

"Mom, I don't think I want to home school, but can we still play with our new friends on Thursdays?"

He meant the other boys who will be homeschooling next year. We've decided to have a standing Thursday afternoon park playdate throughout the Summer.

"Ummm ... sure Joe. What changed your mind?"

"Well, I know who my teacher is going to be, and her room looks pretty cool."

Whaaaa?

So, is that it? Is his mind made up? He tends to be a set-in-stone kind of kid.

I don't think his going to school would likely change the end result. I mean, I suppose it's possible that he'll absolutely love school, but it's more likely that it will only be a matter of time before he's back to hating it.

I'm a little depressed about it, though, I must say. I mean I never imagined myself homeschooling, but as I've been gearing up for it I have gotten pretty excited about it. And every time I hear somebody talking about the stuff going on in their kid's classroom/school I find myself thinking, "Thank God we're not going to have to deal with that any more."

Conflicted

Just as I think I'm wrapping my head around the new New Plan, maybe things aren't so set in stone after all.

Yesterday morning Joseph said he wanted to add "try holding my pee and poop for three days" to the ever growing Camp Wolff list of activities. So, as bizarro as that is, it's not the most bizarro part of the conversation:

"Well, you know Joe, you can actually get sick if you hold your pee and poop too long."

"Well then we should save it for the school year."

"Why would you want to do that?"

"So I don't have to go to school, of course!"

"You know, honey, you don't have to go to school. You can stay home and home school, remember? The other day you told me you decided you wanted to go to school and now you're already planning ways to get out of going? Maybe we should think about this a little bit."

I tried asking him what it was about school he thought he'd miss if he were home, told him we should give the pros and cons of each choice some real thought ...

"Hey Mom, can we have another talent show? I have some new magic tricks. Hannah! Hann-nnaaahhh!"

And with that he ran off.

So maybe we don't so much know what we're doing next year, after all. Remain in your seats, with your seat belts fastened, until the roller coaster comes to a complete stop.

8. play games

2009-06-29T22:38:00.009-04:00

Our synagogue had a rummage sale this past weekend. My husband teased me for wanting to pay $5 to go to the "preview sale" Thursday night, but I had birthday money to spend and big Camp Wolff plans: I wanted board games.

As soon as we walked in the door I made a bee-line for the toys section. But while there was a table piled high with board games, there were few that I really wanted to buy. Still feel like I scored, though:

A vintage Mille Bornes game. My mom bought this back in the 80s when she was teaching French. I loved playing it. Hope the kids will, too.

Harvest Time. I'd never seen this game, and was too distracted to read all the directions, but it looked like it could be decent. I liked that it wasn't "Dora's Harvest Time" or "Harvest time with the Disney Princesses," not that the princesses would ever harvest, mind. I'll let you know what I think of it once we crack into it.

Hi Ho Cherry-O. This seems boring to me, but Joseph suggested we buy it because it was something we all -- meaning Hannah, too -- could play together. Hard to resist that logic.

Harold and the Purple Crayon Game. I love the book, so I thought I'd take a chance on the game. LOVE it.

This is a game that would be easy enough to recreate, btw. The contents are a white board, two purple washable markers, and a stack of 50 or so cards with simple, line-drawn objects (tree, rabbit, airplane, ladder, dragon, apple ... ) with their names written at the bottom. Players take turns selecting cards, drawing the object on the board and then making up a story about it. The next player builds on to the story -- or creates another one all together -- keeping the objects in order. It's great fun.

The games were listed at $3 each. I think that's a little high for rummage sale prices, but I considered it a donation to the Synagogue. And they gave us a deal: 4 for $10.

Looking down the list to items 30 and 33, I also scooped up some big square silk scarves for playing dress-up and a microscope for the science experiments Joseph wants to do.

Silk scarves (along with old pantyhose) were among my favorite dress up clothes when I was little. They are so versatile you can turn them into anything ... including a nice hobo pack when you decide that you want to run away from home. I'm just saying.

We also had a microscope when I was a kid, and I loved it. I was actually always really terrible at looking through one eye -- I seem to remember seeing more eyelash than magnified slide -- but I really loved the aesthetics of playing with the microscope. We'll see what the kids think of it.