do you notice?

Kooka wants to know if you notice anything different about her. She asked Medea to come along for moral support and ice cream. She is feeling quite fabulous right now.

what in the . . . . ?

I'm clearing Punk's chip - the one in his digital camera. The kid takes that thing everywhere, and is constantly snapping away. I would venture to say he is almost as bad as his father in that department.
He has over 150 pictures on just one chip. "Of what?" you ask . . . well - plastic dinosaurs in threatening poses, his sister stuffed under a giant pile of pillows, the dogs in various states of attack, toads, homemade scarecrows . . . and these . . . I do not even pretend to know what these are about. But he said I could post anything that looked interesting. I'd say these fall into that category:

christmas secrets and poison toads

Christmas is a big deal in our house - a BIG deal. There are secrets, surprises, candles lit, music on, 24 Christmas books to open, treats to be made, red pajamas, elf ears to be worn (yeah you heard me - Punk is sporting a pair in this picture). Like I said, it's a BIG deal.

So when Punk's fairy godmother called and asked if she could give him
something special for Christmas - I said yes.

Soooooo - three days before Christmas she shows up with not one, but two firebelly toads. She also delivers a ten gallon terrarium with light, a water dish, bedding and a bag of food - which in case you are unfamiliar with the diet of firebelly toads, happens to be crickets - live crickets. Punk is ecstatic. Delirious with joy. First he tells us that I can take back all of the presents under the tree - because nothing could be better than this. Then he comes up to both of us and says, "I'm just so happy I could swear!"

I ask her if they are male or female - she isn't sure. I ask her how big they get - she isn't sure about that either. I ask how long they live - again, not sure. Still I am not terribly concerned - her baby boy is due any day and whatever she dishes out to me, she will get back tenfold and she knows it.

So the two of us go into Punk's room to watch him deliver the warty little dudes into their new home. The whole while we are laughing about how little we know about these animals - joking that they are probably toxic - like dart frogs from the rainforest.

Ha ha ha.

I look them up on the web later, to see how to care for them - and . . . wait for it . . . YES - indeed they are toxic - can make your tongue swell up - give you a rash - blur your vision. So Punk who has never been a hand washing freak, has now been cursed to a life of near constant scrubbing. Ha ha ha - maybe the joke is on HIM.

This one is Tyrone. Theodore and Tyrone are their names (Theodore named after Rooseveldt - and Tyrone . . . I have no idea)

merry christmas part 2

This just cracks up Punk and me.

merry christmas

This is a real house in Sherman Oaks, California. When I was little, I always said that when I grew up my house would look something like this one. Needless to say, I have fallen short. If it were up to Punk we would decorate like this for every holiday. Merry Christmas!

traditions

We have a lot - of traditions, I mean. There are the 24 Christmas books - unwrapping one each day until Christmas; each kid picking a new ornament for the tree; cocoa almost every night; Christmas Eve at Pa's; Christmas Day at Grandma's; handmade stockings; and CHEESEBALLS.

I have been making them since the fourth grade - every Christmas. Giant rolls of cheese with chiles and garlic - hand squished. Both Punk and Kooka really get into this tradition which is fine by me - today they grated ALL of the cheese, and mixed the stuff too. They said they put "extra love" into this year's batch - so if you get one of these from us, be forewarned - I am not sure what "extra love" means - and quite possibly, it is just a fancy word for "spit."

Enjoy!

happiness

"Happiness is learning to whistle, tying your shoes for the very first tiiiiiimmmmeee!" The lyrics are from "You're a Good Man Charlie Brown," and Kooka has been singing them all morning. Today was the first day that she put on her shoes and tied them all on her own! And no bunny ears laces either - the REAL DEAL - just like a grown up! She's been working on it for over a year - so she is pretty proud of herself. We are too.

shopping

My kids do not need much - none of us do, but I like to go Christmas shopping anyway - especially at the mall. I love the lights, the music and the people watching. I like the people watching best of all.

The first guy I notice is working behind the counter at . . .Fun Gifts You Buy. I am not making that up - that is the REAL name of the REAL store. (It's sister store Fun Gifts You Steal - is right across the hall). It must be quite a specialty niche because apparently "fun gifts" consist of: toddler sized drum sets, Mardi Gras masks, $20 acoustic guitars, and refrigerator magnets. Those are the only four things the store sells - no kidding - one wall of each. But the man working there is so happy, smiling and waving to every customer in the store - he is just happy to be here. I almost convince myself that Punk needs a drum set for Christmas - almost.

Then I watch the man in Tony Roma's, sitting alone, eating pot roast, and I want to sit with him, because he looks so very lonely. He doesn't even have a book to read. But I don't intrude- I just watch, and I pray that his life is good.

There's the girl at Bath and Body Works. It's the same girl in every store, in every mall, in every town. I think they have to go through some sort of brainwashing ceremony before they are sworn in as sales associates. I'm standing in line with some sparkleberry lotion for Kooka. "Ooooh - those are three for 18 dollars," says the ponytailed girl. She is wearing an elf hat, and has already plucked two more bottles from the shelf.
"Thanks - I only need one."
"But they are three for 18 dollars. You need two more."
No, I don't. It is glitter lotion, nobody needs this - not even one.
"What about the gift set?"
"No thanks."
"Here is a cute lip gloss, same great sparkleberry flavor . . ."
I cannot - cannot deal with this. It is gluttonous, excessive, and ALL she has convinced me of - is that I don't need ANYTHING at all. So put my lotion on the table - right next to the gloss and I just leave.

In the hall I watch a mom pushing an empty stroller. She is disinfecting her toddler's Nuk, which is a great use of her time, since he is trailing behind her eating popcorn that he's picking up off of the floor.

And then there is Jesse - sweet Jesse - the Israeli salt scrub guy. He accosts me at a kiosk near the mall entrance. I need lotion - and in my desperation I slow down.
"You sit," says Jesse. He still has my hand, so I do.
He pulls out a silver tray full of lotions and potions and creams. "This is the beautiful tray. Only give this to beautiful girls."
"Yeah - then what do you give to the ugly ones?
"A slap." If nothing else he is quick.
He takes my glasses off and pumps something from a bottle. He looks in my eyes, "You no sleep well."
"No Jesse - I do not."
"Then, here - for your eyes."
"Uh no. No thanks Jesse. What is that?"
"It is special fluid." He rubs it by my eyes.
"SPECIAL FLUID? What? Like antifreeze? What is special fluid? Stop."
"No - special from Dead Sea. In just five minutes you look Chinese."
"Chinese?!"
"Yes. Your eyes be so tight and lifted - you will look like this," he pulls his hands tight across his cheeks, and his eyes get very small. "See? Chinese!"
I lean back, a tiny bit horrified, "Dude - that is not a selling point, and take that special fluid off, my eyes are burning."

"OK, OK," he says, pulling out a tub of floral scented salt scrub "I give you selling point. Ladies love this. And I love ladies." He is such a schmoozer - but pretty good at it. "I do love ladies. People say I am gay, I do not know why they think that, but I not gay." He stops scrubbing my hand and looks at me, "Did you think I am gay?"
"Well, yes."
"Why? Why you say that?"
I am a bit of an expert on this particular subject. "The nice clothes, the good haircut, the one earring - I don't know. It doesn't matter to me either way."
"Hmmmm," he says cocking his hip and looking at me, "Anyway, this scrub works for everything. EVERYTHING! It works on eczema, sunburn, scars. . . ."
"Wait - you rub this on SUNBURN? It's a salt scrub!"
"Oh yes - very good . . .and scars. See this scar?" He points to his arm. "I get this one in Israeli army when I was 17. A bomb explodes and hits my arm. I use salt scrub on it- now you can hardly see it."
I look at his arm - he is right - you can hardly see it. "Wait a minute? You used floral salt scrub? In the army?" He nods. "Honey, THAT is why people think you are gay."
He laughs at me and puts my hand to his face - "See - so smooth."
It is smooth, but I am not buying his stuff, not even after he gives me his "employee discount" - a 6 ounce jar for $57. But I do feel bad for his scar. He could have got it playing lacrosse at a private school for all I know, but his story about the bomb hurts my heart, so I put some money on his silver tray and leave.

I leave the whole mall, because really I don't need anything anyway - none of us do.

temptation

Math took 3 hours today. An hour per page - no lie. The thing is - every single problem was correct, it's not like he didn't know what he was doing, he just messed around until I thought I would SNAP.

Kooka was not much better - not today at least.

I can see the public school from my window - and it looks pretty tempting right now.

advice

Punk was dispensing advice today, and he really wanted me to buy some.

"Come on Mom," he says, "Dad bought some, and it was really good."
"What advice did you give dad?"
"Do unto others as you would have done to you."
"Hmmmmmmm, that is good advice, but I am pretty sure it's not yours. Sounds like you are ripping off other people's advice."
"Wow you are picky."
"Yes, well seeing how I have to pay a nickel, I want my money's worth."
"Come on," he says, "I won't disappoint you."
I fish into my pocket and pay him.
"OK," he says, eyes serious,"This is great advice." He leans in close looks right in my eyes and says, "Never, I mean never, take advice from a guy like me."
He jumps off my bed and runs out of my room.

At first I think that he riped me off, but on second thought - it is pretty good advice.

elf yourself

Wanna see something funny? Punk and Kooka got elfed. I'm not sure how, but Punk got the female body and Kooka the male (who is by FAR the better dancer). Check it out on this link: Elf yourself

sad - by Kooka

Kooka sobbed for two hours after the wrap party last night. She knows they took the set down and said, "it is like they just took apart my life."

She told me to put this on our blog:


I felt sad when our play ended. I miss my friends and I won't spend as much time with them. I liked when the audience laughed, but now there is no more audience so there is no more laughing, so there is no more happiness.

I think that play was really good and I tried my best to make the audience laugh and love it - and I think they did. I think I did a good job, but now I can't do it anymore, and now I feel very sad. No more giggles or laughs. No more great friends coming to watch me - no more beautiful dresses I get to wear. No more fun things - just nothing.

by Kooka

my happiest songs

Bubbly was a pretty good song - still is - makes me smile a lot.

But there is a new contender at the top of my playlist. I have been listening constantly, and choreographing it in my head.

I have always liked Michael Buble' - but this song is better than all the rest. It makes me think of everything happy -

"You're a falling star, you're the getaway car,
you're the line in the sand when I go too far.
You're the swimming pool on an August day
and you're the perfect thing to say . . .
in this crazy life, and through these crazy times -
it's you, it's you - you make me sing.
You're every line, you're every word, you're everything."

If you haven't already, you must - simply MUST hear it. Click here to listen to EVERYTHING.

go go go joseph

So - supposedly it is my very favorite musical of all time. But after last night, I would be willing to say it's more about Donny Osmond than even I would like to believe.

We saw the Chanhassen's version of Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat last night. Punk declared it "PERFECT", Kooka said it was the "best show ever!" , even Aaron said it was "pretty good." But then there is me.

The acting was decent, the choreography was hokey (not that anybody's dance skills were phenomenal to start with), the set was cheesey, the wigs were worse - and most importantly - there was no Donny Osmond.

I know I am picky I KNOW it. But even the adults did not match foot positions, Joseph's wig looked like a Barbie with a bad haircut, and Potiphar looked like he was about 17 (which I later learned was not too far off). Call me critical - but for god's sake - the stage is 6 times as big as the one I work on and they hardly used any of it. I expect a bit more than that for $70.

Having said that - it was not a bad show. It was OK. The bright spot was when one of Pharoah's wives came out to dance with Kooka during the finale. Kooka is a sucker for beautiful ladies that give her attention - and this chick had it all. . . barely dressed, ruby-red lipstick, a sparkly cobra crown and about 12 pounds of faux gold jewelry. Even Punk was a little impressed with Kooka's good fortune.

Afterward they met one of Joseph's brother's outside, and stopped for a picture. I hope my kids don't actually read this post - if they find out how hyper critical I am about this stuff, I may never see another puppet show again.

one more week

One more week until the end of this show. It has consumed our lives the past three months. One practice was 6 hours long. We leave the theater at 10:30pm most nights. Punk falls asleep with eyeliner on. I am stripping the gel from Kooka's hair every night. We have eaten way too many lunchables. We are exhausted. And we wouldn't have it any other way.

defending her boys

A discussion at ballet class.

McKenzie: Did you know something Jana?
Me: What?
McKenzie: Boys - they do not dance. They can't. Boys do not dance.

Poor McKenzie. She never stood a chance.

Because in pipes Kooka- hands on her hips, pigtails swinging. "THAT is such a stereotype! My brother Punk is a wonderful dancer. And actually I know a lot of boys who dance - Punk and Schroeder and PigPen and Fred. And they are quite good!"

Sometimes that kid does not seem 5.

dethroned

After nearly nine years of irrefutable reign, the prince and the princess are about to be dethroned. Punk was born in 1999, Kooka in 2002, and since then have been the only grandkids for Aaron's parents.

But over Thanksgiving Uncle-Cares-a-Lot and Auntie M., announced that they are expecting a baby in June. We are so, so happy for them.

the thought that counts

So Aaron brought me roses for opening night. Beautiful melon colored roses - my very very favorite.

Kooka assumed they were for her, so Aaron slipped one into a vase for her.

Punk saw it - and asked where his was. "You want one?" Aaron asked. "You really want one?"

There was a pause, as Punk looked from the roses, to me to Aaron. "No," he says, "I'd rather just have the cash."

the surreal life

One of the best part of being in an Arts Guild play are the cast parties. This particular cast has 20 kids - and with so many bright, and creative people on hand, the parties are usually more entertaining than the actual shows.

This weekend - the party was at Martha's house. The grownups hang out upstairs, and the kids in the basement - that's not really how it's supposed to be - it's just how it IS. The upstairs is full of polite conversations, mingling and vegetable trays.

Downstairs is where the real party is at. There are no vegetables down here - but there is a pirate in moonshoes bouncing in delirious circles, Snow White singing karaoke, a shirtless 5-year old with a ninja stick. It is more than a bit surreal. There is a bride with Hulk fists covered in light from a disco ball, an 8 year-old with gopher cheeks full of cheetoes, piggy back rides, wrestling and bed jumping - lots and lots of bed jumping. The laughter is loud and the conversations are not always polite - but they are usually funny. The kids range in age from 5-16, and they are all here together - all happy. It looks a little bit like this:



. . . and we feel pretty lucky to live in this crazy surreal world - even if it's just for a few weeks more.

santa and the skeptic

We took our annual trip to the mall to see Santa today. I keep thinking that each year might be the last time, but it never gets old to Punk and Kooka.

We barely set foot in the mall - the place is pretty empty - there is no line at Santa's workshop. We're 25 yards from the place and Punk shouts "Santa!!!" He goes barelling through the mall straight into the big guy's lap, wraps his arms around him and says, "Oh Santa - it's so good to see you again. I missed you."

Kooka is excited but a bit more reserved. She asks for a doll that looks just like her, or a blue fuzzy robe - whatever Santa wants to bring. Punk asks for a cage to keep critters in - specifically toads.

The ride home sounds something like this:

Punk: "Isn't Santa just amazing?"
Kooka: "Actually he is a little suspicious."
Punk: "WHAT?! No he isn't!"
Kooka: "O.K. well don't you think it's weird that he never once got stuck in a chimney? Or that he always just happens to be at THIS mall? Or that he always knows when we are asleep? I mean that's like a miracle."
Punk: "I KNOW - I'm 8 and I still can't figure it out."
Kooka looks at me in the rearview mirror. Her eyebrows are up and her eyes are small - she is scanning my face.

I smile at her. This is the same child who tried to convince her big brother to set a trap for the tooth fairy. The one who at age three asked, "How does a little rabbit carry all those baskets? That story cannot be real."

So there we are in the car, the 8 year-old dreamer who truly believes that anything is possible, the 5 year-old skeptic -nobody's fool, who cannot stand to be duped. And me in the middle, remembering - just in case this is our last trip like this.

the countdown

Less than 48 hours until opening night of Cheaper By The Dozen. Kooka is thrilled to be in her first real play and completely adores her "big sisters" and her stage parents. Punk is really in his element - and loving hanging out with - and trading smack talk with his heroes: Snoopy, Schroeder, PigPen and LaFou (Who in this play are known as Joe, Frank, Bill and Mac).

Dress rehearsal went well for both kids. I am still trying to work out some choreography issues - but overall am very happy with the cast. Here's a sneak peak of the kids backstage in full costume.

funny mom

This mom is hilarious - everything you'd say to your kid in a day - she sums up in under 3 minutes. Check it out here . . . .William Tell Mom.

two down - nine to go

Two shows are over. Just nine more to go. Punk, Kooka, Princess, Zazu and Lillian rocked the house at the MTW show. They performed at a dinner theater review and were fabulous. Hopefully Aaron will give me some pictures soon - so you can all see what you missed. Man they were cute.

here goes my self-respect

I was late for work today. And it wasn't for the usual reasons. Everybody was dressed, had their bags packed, hair combed - and I could not leave the house because of Donny Osmond. He was on Oprah and I could not tear myself away.

So this is my moment of truth: I love Donny Osmond. I do. Ever since I was 5 and he ice skated into my living room on Friday nights. I had the Donny doll and the purple socks. I saw Joseph 4 times. I still listen to Soldier of Love on my i-pod.

I've heard rumors of a reunion tour - I hope it's true. Now all they have to do is bring that one BeeGee back from the dead, turn Michael Jackson back into an 8-year old,reunite New Kids on the Block and I could live happily ever after.

Bring it on - I know the smart-alec comments are coming.

kooka

When I grow up I want to be a cook or a vet.

My favorite color is pink.

My favorite lunch is watermelon, macaroni and cheese, mashed potatoes and smuckers uncrustables.

The funniest thing in the world when Punk does funny things - it just makes me laugh a lot.

The saddest thing in the world is when some people are sick like Pa and Katie.

My favorite thing about homeschooling is MATH and reading about Gus the bug.

The worst part of homeschooling is history. I like the stories - but there is something about history I do NOT like.

If I could meet one person in the whole world it would be Mr. Disney and I would tell him thank you for making so many things that my brother and I like.

punk

When I grow up I want to be a cartoonist.

My favorite color is green.

My favorite lunch is candy! Just kidding - watermelon and macaroni and cheese.

The funniest thing in the world are Disney Cartoons. They just make me giggle so much I cry.

The saddest thing in the world - it will be be when someone I love dies. It has never happened to me before - but it will.

My favorite thing about homeschooling is that I get to be with my family. And my mom can just help me when I need it and i don't have to wait.

The worst part of homeschooling is nothing really.

If I could meet one person in the whole world it be Teddy Roosevelt because he is just amazing and my very favorite president.

Kooka's debut

Kooka wants me to remind you all that she will be making her theatrical debut in the Northfield Arts Guild production of Cheaper by the Dozen. Tickets are available at the NAG website NAG Tickets. Kooka is the youngest cast member and will playing Jane Gilbreth. Punk plays her older brother Dan. Lots of our friends happen to be in the production too - Schroeder, Snoopy, Pigpen, Lafou, Cole, Lillian & our babysitter "the Napkin."

The show opens the weekend before Thanksgiving, and runs through December 2. It will likely sell out - so get your tickets soon.

overheard at the theater

"Punk - I think your mom is crazy. Cool - very cool, but crazy."

"You're right. She is."

trick or treat

This is our new best friend.

He's our new neighbor Josh - and a Halloween master. When we saw the torches lining his driveway, and the skeletons hanging from the pirate gallows - we knew we were gonna like this guy.

But then . . . .we actually went up to the garage door and the guy WAS Jack Sparrow. He had prisoners in a jail cell, pirate girls passing our candy, and a treasure-filled pirate ship with moving walls that the kids could steer.

Punk was thrilled. Kooka could not believe it. It truly was amazing - we went back twice.

I hope he gets this excited about all the holidays.

Later we stopped to visit Treats, Medea and Mr. Treats. Medea took both kids out trick or treating AGAIN. Kooka's bag was so heavy it actually ripped. After that, it was off to Nikki's - where Punk and Kooka each got 4 candy bars and a bucket of gummi bears. The grand total was about 5 pounds of candy per kid.

the payoff

After years of reading Calvin and Hobbes, spending weekends with his Uncles, and being reprimanded at the dinner table, Punk finally got the payoff he was hoping for.

While getting his hair cut "extra nerdy" for the play, the hairdresser said, "Wow, you are quick on your feet for an 8-year-old."

"What does that mean?" Punk asked.

"It means you are witty," she said. "You know, sarcastic - but in a really funny way."

Punk's entire face lit up and he said, "Thank you! Thank you so much! That is the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me."

The hairdresser just laughed and said, "I've never met an 8 year-old who knew what 'sarcastic' meant, let alone took it as a compliment."

Punk floated on air the rest of the day.

my new favorite outfit

I woke up to this.

It is actually my authentic Norwegian dress from when I was Little Miss Norway in California. It's been hanging in the back of Kooka's closet since she was born. I'd forgotten it was there - I didn't think she even knew about it. But here she was this morning -in native dress, lips ablaze with bright red lipstick, pretending to be a "real princess from Norway."

Laugh if you will, but about an hour into it, she decided it would be much more fun to be a servant girl. She has spent the better part of the day reminding me to "order her around, and give her extra work to do." First she folded my laundry, then made the beds, swept the floor, set the table, served me a drink and read me a royal story. Each request was met with a curtsy, and a "whatever you desire your highness." This is the BEST GAME EVER!

I know everybody is laughing at this costume - but I am going to let her wear it every day. Later she is coming in to brush my hair and fluff the pillows.

I wish I could find one of these suits for Punk.

too much

What is too much? When is it too hard? What is overwhelming? I don't know. I would think that 5 hours of theater practice would be a bit excessive for an 8 year-old. But even after 1 hour at home, 1/2 hour of vocal music and 3 1/2 hours at the theater, Punk does not want to leave. He runs lines in his head, sings music all the way home. He cannot get enough.

And Kooka with her dance . . . .she practices for 20 minutes every day on her own. And then, on Mondays we are the first at the studio. She practices until the first class starts. Then she takes the second class. After the third class I am wiped out. It is 8:00 and neither of us has eaten dinner. But she is not finished. "Mom," she says, "I really want to get that one jete' down, and that pirouette and I need to fix my splits." I really want to leave, but she really wants to stay. So we do. An hour later she is still going - she actually says, "I don't want to go yet. I am not as good as you." I finally manage to drive home the point that I do have a few years and a tiny bit of experience on her, and then she allows me to drag her out of the place.

She is so driven, so eager to catch up to everybody. Even in this picture I took at play practice. She is the youngest kid in the cast - the little sister, and there she is next to Lillian - looking at everybody else, standing on tiptoe, trying to be more. "Good enough" is never good enough for her.

I don't know what is too much for them - too hard - too overwhelming. They have these incredible personalities - souls that seem energized by the constant demands of honing their crafts. Maybe it will never be too much for them. Maybe it is just too much for me.

a good day

It is always a good day when Auntie M and Uncle Cares-a-Lot come to visit. Kooka got to make cookies - and Auntie M really knows what she's doing in that that department - so they were amazing. Meanwhile, the boys shot cork guns and built robots in Punk's room.

Nothing like a good day of gender discrimination to keep our family happy.

love song

So I'm listening to quite possibly the most heartbreaking love song ever - I Try by Macy Gray.

I believe that fate has brought us here,
and we should be together babe, but we're not.
I play it off, but I'm dreaming of you.
And I'll keep my cool but I'm feigning.
I try to say goodbye and I choke, try to walk away and I stumble.
Though I try to hide it, it's clear,
my world crumbles when you are you are not here. . . .
Boy I need your touch, your love, kisses and such.


Suddenly Punk pipes in "This song is so incredibly sad mom. Just so sad."
"Yes it is," I tell him. "It's about saying goodbye to someone."

And I should have seen this coming . . .
He sniffles and says, "Remember my toad Pickles? And how I had to let him go back to the pond?"
"Yes honey I remember."
His little blue eyes are wet and he says, "Well this girl's voice sounds exactly like a toad's - it's so beautiful. And I can imagine Pickles sitting on the bridge singing it as I walk away from him. And it makes me sad."

And I love that Punk is who he is, and that he has his very own love story.
I'm not sure Macy Gray would take it as a compliment.

the worst word

There was a long discussion today in our house. It began - as usual, with Punk's campaign to watch something completely inappropriate on TV.

Now, we don't screen a lot of stuff from our kids (scary and violent suff yes - crude stuff no). Punk knows all of the swear words but doesn't use them because, "They make you sound like an idiot. And TRULY funny people don't need to use those words, they rely on their quick wit." (A point which we have been driving home since age 4 - when "stupid" was the word du-jour).

Anyway, he says to me today, "So why can't I watch this?" Then proceeds to present his case, "I know every swear word and I never use them. I have good judgement and don't copy everything I see. Some things are funny to watch even if you know they are horrible to do." The kid has a valid argument.

My counter claim is that certain things require a bit of maturity, and there are some words or phrases that have power or meaning beyond just the immediate spoken word - things too terrible for adults to make sense of - let alone third graders.

"Like what?"
"Like the N-word."

I see the wheels in his head spinning as he flips through his mental files of swear words. "Naughty?" no "Naked?" no "Never?" no.

He is furious that I will not tell him. We talked ad-naseum about what the word meant and the social implications and how people have died - and killed, just because of what this word means. But I can't get the word out of my mouth. He is looking at a dictionary right now - trying to figure it out.

the best kind of teacher

Ms. Toni is a professional artist, a teacher, a parent, a grandma - and the best part of our week. We met her when she was teaching art at Punk's pre-school art class. Punk adored her, and was so sad, when she didn't come back the second year. But just last year, we hunted her down and she agreed to come to our house to work with Punk once a week for an hour. This year Kooka is in on the action too -after Punk's class, Kooka gets a half an hour with Ms. Toni too. Yesterday she took them both to an art gallery. She is really, truly the best kind of teacher - she laughs, and questions, and makes you think about art, and lets you figure the answers out all for yourself. And when she tells you your work is fabulous - you really truly believe it.

punk in 20 years

OK - for some reason YouTube is not letting me post this here - but here you are - Punk in 20 years at his Homeschool Class Reunion.

Click here to watch the class reunion

Punk is such a smart alec - if somebody hadn't already done this he would have.

the 50 worst songs

Who picked this list? - and why do I have all of these CD's? Who made my ninth grade anthem the number one pick? The only reason Ritu sent me this list in the first place is because she was feeling insecure about her own musical choices. So now that makes two of us.

50 worst songs

Nocturnal-itis

So yesterday Punk woke up with a sore throat. He was warm and tired and just didn't feel well. So I made him do his math, let him hop in my bed with a new book, and just rest.

So about lunch time he's feeling groovy again, and wants to go to choir that afternoon. I tell him nooooo way. If he's too sick for school then he is too sick for choir. He pulls his covers up to his nose and says, "I think what I'm suffering from is just nocturnal-itis."

Turns out the kid was awake until 3 o'clock in the morning! I should have known - partly because I am his mother, and partly because I was up at the same time.

The insomnia in this house is unbearable. Kooka and Aaron will be out cold within 3 minues of hitting the pillow. But for Punk and I, it just doesn't happen. He was so miserable the next morning that Kooka made this get well card for him (or maybe it is just a warning sign).

slacker

This week has not been the best teaching week for me. Which means it has not been the best learning week for Punk and Kooka. I am sick (with what I don't even pretend to know - but it makes me sore and sleepy and grumpy - but not sneezey or dopey). Anyway - thank God for Ms. Toni. She comes on Mondays for art lessons - but the truth is that she seems to know something about everything - and when the kids are working with her they are completely and totally enraptured and inspired and just thrilled to be with her.

Between that, our walk through the arb with Treats and Medea, play practice and Schoolhouse Rock - that is about all the school we've had this week.

Some people I know do school like that every day. Which I'm sure Punk would love. Kooka would hate it. And I would completely freak out.

Then again - if we stayed inside all day we never would have seen the two blue egrets, the snake, the silky milkweed pods, Pig Pen's oh-so-funny snide remarks or Mr. Gilbreth's sweet dance moves.

Katie

This morning we got the worst kind of call. One of our very best friends has breast cancer. She is only 34, and the best kind of mom to her four kids. I don't really know what else to say about that. She is pretty tough, so I think she will be OK. But we are thinking of her - and we hope you will too.

setting her heart

"I want to get my heart set on someone." That is what the girl said.

There has been much talk about Kooka's wedding for the past year. It is quite a concern for her. The fact that she is only 5, does not seem to matter. She is constantly asking, and worrying and planning. Today the converstaion went like this:

Kooka: "So what if it is time for my wedding and I still don't know WHO I want to marry."
Me: "Well you don't plan the wedding until you know who you want to marry."
Kooka: "But there IS nobody good to marry. How am I ever going to find the perfect person?"
Me: "Um, you are FIVE."
Kooka: "Quit rubbing it in."
Me: "OK, what I mean is that you have a lot of time to find someone. You might meet them at college or at work, or something like that."
Kooka: "I know, but I want to get my heart set on someone now."

I don't know if this is the product of one too many Disney Princess Movies or what.

hide and go eeek!

If you're reading this, chances are you already know where I stand on this issue. You are probably well aware of Punk's feeling on the subject as well. But until now, I wasn't so sure about Kooka. I mean, she talks a good game - all bravado when her big brother's around. And there was that one time when she was two and she just grabbed a wild one in her bare hands . . . of course I'm talking about snakes.

So today, we're at St. Olaf playing a spirited game of hide and seek. Kooka is the master - she is competitive, stubborn as heck and can sit perfectly still for 30 miutes if it means she will win. She had the perfect hiding spot - a shrub barely out of range. Mr. ADD would never bother checking farther than his immediate line of vision. (Go figure - the kid can spot a gray trout at the bottom of a muddy river, but a four foot human wearing neon pink in a green bush is all but invisible to him.) Kooka was completely concealed, yet she could still see him through the foliage.

So - ten minutes later, after Punk has passed right by her twice, and is on his third round - we see two blonde pigtails bouncing behind the bush. The bouncing is followed by an "aaaa . . . .aaaa . . . . .aaaaaaahhhhhh!" - and suddenly Kooka is barreling out from behind the bush - high stepping like Scooby Doo and Shaggy.

"There was a snake in there!" she tells us. "It was just there, in the bush, looking at me." And you'd think that standing in a shrub with a cold-blooded reptile waiting for Mr. Observative to get a clue, would garner just a tiny bit of sympathy, but noooooo. There is no,"Are you OK?" - no "Sorry about that." Instead Punk looks right at her and says, "What?! And you let it go?!"

For about five seconds Kooka has a look on her face that I have never seen before. She is staring at Punk with eyes that seem to say, "Up until this very moment I truly believed that you were more intelligent than me." She walks away without a word.

While Kooka and I camp out on a hill to watch the leaves fall, Punk spends 15 minutes hunting for the elusive reptile with no luck. Here is Kooka's rendering of it. "The snake looked just like this - except longer, and pointier, and scarier, and without purple eyes."

how it's done

I'm still trying to figure it out. I was talking to one of my homeschooling friends today. We both work part-time in addition to the full time job of teaching. It was 8:00 at night, and she still hadn't done math with her kid. I have days like that all of the time. I'm curious to see what everybody else does with their days. Ours usually go like this:

8:00 Wake-up. Wake kids up. Get everybody dressed and chores done.
8:45 Breakfast
9:15 Circle time - calendar time, counting to 100, pledge, music, Spanish
10:00 Math - Singapore. Set up Punk, work manipulatives with Kooka, then trade off
10:30 History (or Science or Geography) Read & do a project together
11:45 Recess/make lunch
12:30 Reading. Punk reads quietly on the couch. Kooka and I snuggle in my bed. She reads to me, then we all read stories together
1:15 Language/Writing - Punk works on Spelling and his Journal. Kooka works on writing sentences and phonics stuff. Both kids get a turn on the computer.
2:00 Gym - it's always something - dance, swimming, baseball
2:30 Homework/project time - whatever didn't get finished or is due on Friday has to be worked on now, because after this is . . .
3:00 Free time - and they better enjoy it because . . .
3:45 Leave the house - dance, choir, play practice, scouts - everyday it's something - and usually both kids are sporting backpacks because . . .
4:00-8:00 Mom is at work. Both kids hang out until Dad comes to get them, or until they are done with practice.
8:30-9:30 baths, bedtime snacks, brush teeth, bedtime stories
9:30-11:00 Mom works on choreography & work type stuff. Punk reads in bed
11:00-12:30 Mom gets stuff ready for school the next day - projects, special worksheets, posting assignments on the board. (This is why I'm always on the computer until 2 am).
12:30 - 1:30 Mom turns out Punk's light, checks on Kooka and hops into bed, where I read until I fall asleep. Then I get up and away we go again.

I really don't get how people do this for years and years and years. Does it get easier - or is it always like this?

the outdoorsy type

Aaron and I are outdoors people - really we are. I was a camp counselor for two years. We can both build a raging bonifre, set up a tent, and have been known to hike for miles just to see a waterfall. We actually named our firstborn after one of the greatest outdoorsmen ever.

But we are nothing compared to Punk. His favorite place in the whole wide world is the Amazon Rainforest (even though he's never been). His second favorite place is the arb at Carleton. The same kid who used to be terrified of the balance beam in baby gymnastics, runs across logs that span a rushing river. He walks nearly barefoot through leechy puddles, crawls through tick infested ivy, chases snakes and captures small amphibians without ever being stung, bit, or even clawed. He is the crocodile hunter in miniature.

I don't know how he does it. Maybe someday he will marry Bindi the Jungle Girl, and he can live the life of his dreams - snuggling venomous animals and never having to change his shirt.

please help

Today we held our annual picture day fundraiser. Each year Aaron takes "school" pictures for homeschoolers, preschoolers, and people who's regular school pictures turned out hideous ( a sizeable clientel). This year our family decided to send the proceeds to the John's Hopkins Autoimmune Disease Research Center. It's the one place we could find that was working to find cures for Addison's Disease, Lupus and certain types of Diabetes - all three of which affect people we love.

If you didn't get your picture taken, it's not too late to give. Just $5 will buy 20 petri dishes for the reaserch lab, $13 can help identify over 400 strands of DNA, $60 can buy an enzyme used to connect DNA fragments. Our friends and family need your help. Follow this link to donate: John's Hopkin's Autoimmune Disease Research Center

stuck in our head

Aaron has been around the dance thing for way too long. He's incredibly good at not only finding songs for me, but telling me what type of dance it will work for, and what age should use it. He found this "lyrical" for me yesterday - Kooka and I - who usually share musical tastes - love this one. It's been stuck in our head all day. We dare you not to love it.
Click here to check it out:
bubbly

the results

Don't read this.
Only read it if you are a worried relative, or somebody who is freaking out about the homeschool thing. Normally this is not the kind of information we'd post here, but since everything turned out well, and since a few grandparents are anxious to confirm the validity of their eldest grandchild's education (not to mention the fact that Punk "really, really" wants me to post his test) Here goes:

The PIAT test took about two hours and started with the "General Information" section - which includes questions in history, geography, science & the arts. In this section Punk scored above the 99th percentile and is at a 6th grade level.

Reading recognition was scored by having Punk read out loud. His reading recognition score (which includes the correct pronunciation of words, and how often he stumbled) was in the 99th percentile and is at the 7th grade level.

Reading comprehension was scored by having him read silently and answer comprehension questions. In this he was placed above the 99th percentile and is at the 9th grade level.

Averaging both reading scores together puts him at an 8th grade reading level - and off the chart for the percentile.

In mathematics - he scored in the 96th percentile which puts him at a 5th grade level.

Spelling was in the 75th percentile which lands him in a 4th grade level. Punk was a little disappointed because he really likes spelling - but the tester said that this was actually a very good score for a third grade boy.

Writing was at the 91st percentile - and they do not have a grade level rank for that. Writing is scored on grammar, punctuation, and ability to write complete sentences/stories.

His overall combined scores put him in over the 99th percentile for all third graders in the nation. His overall academic knowledge places him at a 6th grade level.

Whew - now we can all relax - mom, dad, pa, gram, aunts, uncles. Apparently the kid is actually learning something.

the big test

Punk has his first test tomorrow. He is taking the PIAT (peabody individual achievement test), which tests people in six basic areas - math, reading, history/geography, science, general knowledge, and spelling/language. He's been evaluated by individual teachers before, but this is his first ever standardized test, and we are both a little nervous.

Punk is nervous because he likes being smart and is worried that if he doesn't do well on the test, that people won't think he's smart anymore.

I am nervous because everything we've done (or haven't done) for the past three years is going to be judged by a complete stranger. Someone we don't know is going to walk into our house and tell us if we've made the right decision or not. It's a little unnerving. Punk is taking the test, but it's both of us who are being evaluated. Wish us luck.

woodblock printing

Today we studied the Chinese - and how they "invented" printing. We're pretty sure lots of people in lots of countries figured this out - mainly by accident - but the books say it all went down in China, so we stuck to the story. We got a carving set, brayer and ink from the Art Store (we love that place), and got to work. Of course Punk chose to carve an animal. Kooka decided to create a wild design. Both tiles - and the prints turned out pretty well, which surprised their Art Major father.

"Wow! I actually expected them to be kind of hideous," he admited.

I asked him why and he blurted something about "kids that age reversing a drawing in their head." I'm not sure I buy it. I wonder what else he is expecting besides "hideous" history projects. He better not act this surprised when Punk graduates from college or Kooka gets her MD.

today

Today was a good day. For the first time in a long time, nobody HAD to be anywhere. So we all went rock climbing at REI. Punk and Kooka both made it to the top in record time. I wish I had pictures.

boys

So back in the day when I used to actually teach dance instead of just choreograph, I would take little girls and basket toss them, and whip them around, and spot backhandsprings and tucks, and generally make arial warriors out of any ten-year old who was willing. I had a fully sprung gymnastics floor, both knees intact, and the willingness/stupidity to take a fall for any kid who needed rescuing. Even with all of that on my side I still wound up with three broken toes, two bloody noses, a knocked out tooth, two sprained ankles a broken jaw and one concussion.

Fast forward 10 years: I am older, lamer, smarter, and standing barefoot on a grassy backyard with a 30º pitch. I'm still pretty brave - convincing kids that they cannot hurt me - I've done these stunts a thousand times. But still, there are 20 kids over the age of 12 - half of them boys - most of them taller than me.

And while boys are usually better at these types of stunts - sheer leg power, coupled with machismo - they have absolutely no desire to actually learn the finer points of the skill. The girls want a full-scale demonstration, and a verbal breadown of each individual movement, but the boys are completely different. They don't care HOW it's done - they just want to do it - NOW.

Before I can even finish a demonstration I have six guys attempting to vault over each other's heads. Three of them are positive they can pull off a 360º - round-the-world partner flip - with no spotter, and no solid base. Two more knock each other to the ground in a failed attempt at something I didn't even see the start of.

The good news is that we have some sweet flyers in the show. The better news is that nobody got hurt. The best news is that Punk and Kooka will not be in that scene.

school pictures

Not everybody has school pictures that look this good.
Then again - we did spend over two hours with each kid.
They got to wear their favorite stuff, have crazy hair and take tons of photos.
I'm sure you'll see more. There are hundreds - literally.

maori art

Me and Punk and Mom (not dad because he was at work), were studying Australia and we did a painting like they did. It was really fun. First we thought of a nature shape - like a snake and a leaf for instance (that's what I did). We drew a sketch of it, then we outlined it with a black sharpie. Then we put stripes and designs in our leaves and snakes. Then we put little dots all over with Q-tips (we don't think the Australians and Maoris used Q-tips - we think they used their fingers) But we didn't dot around and make it silly - we had to trace one line around the leaf and one around the snake, and when it got squishy we had to trace around BOTH of them.

Punk made his of a turtle and a sun I made mine of a snake and a leaf (I know I already said that). It took a VERY long time to finish it - it ALMOST took the whole day. When Dad saw it, he was pretty amazed.

It was so amazing - you wouldn't believe how pretty it turned out - someday you should come see it.

by Kooka

brotherly love

Punk doesn't have any real brothers, so he's pretty excited to have these guys for the next few months. Punk, Fred, Pigpen and Schroeder play brothers in Cheaper By The Dozen, and today they were together for a guys-only music rehearsal. For about an hour they rehearsed their German language song, which Punk says, "just sounds like a bunch of made-up Dr. Seuss words with a Hitler accent."

home ec

This is not my strongest suit. But still, Kooka wants to learn, and I am supposed to be her teacher. The girl loves to cook, and I figure if I teach her how, then I won't have to. Tonight she made chicken, peas, and homemade macaroni and cheese (we are on a hunt for the best-ever-super-cheesey recipe). Tonight's mac & cheese was OK - not as tangy as we'd hoped - but we still have four more recipes to try.

the foreign language requirement

I barely passed Norwegian in college, and only took it because I had to. I took one year of German from a genuine Nazi, and bailed on Russian class when the professor kept laughing at me. I did teach myself to say hello in ten different languages, but don't speak any of them fluently.

So how is it, that I find myself teaching four different languages to my children? Kooka is obsessed with Spanish - thankfully I am most adept at this one (which isn't saying much). Punk's favorite is sign language (another stong suit for me). But now Kooka also wants to learn French - and Punk needs to learn German (or at least fake it).

Their upcoming play requires all of the boys to sing in German, and the girls to sing in French - very speedy French. I hope the boys sing about the telephone ringing, and having blue eyes - because that's all I know.

punk's prayers

Last night it went like this - completely serious and solemn:

"Dear God,
Please bless everyone, especially the stupid people, because boy, do they need it."

AMEN!

lights, camera, action

Today both Punk and Kooka spent 7 hours shooting a TV commercial. It's a national ad for Lifetime Fitness - so there's a chance that even Uncle Rascal will get to see it. Anyway - they were just two of several children who participated in the shoot. And in case anyone is deluded into thinking this was a glamourous gig, let me set you straight. Here is how the day actually goes:
8:30:Call time. Arrive on location. Set out wardrobe - which consists of almost every single shirt we own, three pair of shorts, two pair of shoes, and countless hair accessories.

8:45: Fill out paperwork for both kids including a waiver. The waiver explains that this commercial can be used for the next hundred years and that even if clips from today's shoot are used in the next Harry Potter film, we will not be getting a single cent more than what they are paying us today. There is also a small disclaimer about the artifical "atmosphere" that will be pumped into the rooms today. The disclaimer says that the atmosphere potion contains water and a type of mineral oil that has not been found to be hazzardous to humans YET.

9:00: Cover Kooka's ears as you listen to the director's assisstant shouting to his assistant, "$#!T - Why do I only have 8 kids? I'm supposed to have 10 F+¢!^g kids!"

9:15: Pack every single thing you own back into the bag, as wardrobe tells both kids - you look perfect in the clothes you have on. I think Kooka slept in those shorts - oh well.

9:30: Walk kids to scene of the first shoot. Notice that this room is already full of "atmosphere." It looks like a rave for 2nd graders - I can hardly see through the fog. Leave both children in the hands of complete strangers. Most of the strangers have dirty t-shirts and carry giant cameras. They have cups of black coffee and powdered sugar on their upper lips. Secretly hope that it IS powdered sugar. The other strangers have way too much product in their hair, perfect teeth, and haughty expressions on their faces. They could care less if my children tumble from the 8 foot climbing wall, as long as it doesn't wreck their shot. The assistant to the assistant actually smiles at the kids. He tells us to adjourn to the holding room - where we can watch the shoot on camera 3's monitor.

10:00: Makeup comes out to talk to cameraman 3. Mentions that the blonde kid with the pigtails is so very polite - and so is the kid in the green shirt. Do invisible victory dance in my head. Watch the monitor and realize that the obnoxious three year-old who won't smile and keeps hitting the adults is always in the front. So is the nasty 7 year old who keeps verbally abusing the producer. Clearly the blond kids' manners ain't getting them any action.

10:30: Kids are excused to the holding room. 70 new "extras" arrive. Wardrobe checks everyone's bathing suits. Send Punk into the men's room with the other guys to change. Freak out until he comes back. Help Kooka change and redo her hair. Play Sleeping Queens - and win.

11:00: Follow the guy with bad highlights who swears a lot down to the pool area. Watch as he lines almost 100 people up onto the side of the pool. The guy who works the atmosphere machine sits behind you eating a hot dog. Take a good look at the atmosphere machine. It's really just a fog machine and giant fan mounted on a shopping cart. realize that while you have been checking out said machine, the blonde swearer has pulled both Punk and Kooka out of the lineup and told them to go sit by the hot tub.

11:05: Run to hot tub, and ask why children are sitting there. Listen to Punk's explanation. "I don't know. He just told us to come and sit right here." Interrogate children about what they were doing. Assume the worst. Feel relieved and guilty when the swearer says he has a special part for them - because they are so patient.

11:30: Action! While all of the other kids splish and splash freely in the pool. Punk and Kooka are asked to run into the pool, and "reset" every 30 seconds. There are about 50 takes. Kooka has goosebumps. Punk's lips are blue. Atmosphere Andy sits to my right shooting copious amounts of vaporized baby oil into my lungs. Wonder why a waterpark needs so much "atmosphere" anyway.

2:15: Scene wraps. Watch Punk and Kook play in the pool for 30 minutes with the other kids, while scenes are checked for reshoots.

2:45: Lunch arrives. We sit with Abbie, whom Punk has worked with before. The nasty 7 year-old from scene 1 finds a spot near us too. On her plate she has one piece of French bread, an orange soda, two pieces of chocolate cake, one brownie and a lemon bar. Punk says he wishes he had a mother like that. The girl giggles and uses her bare hands to stuff half a piece of cake into her mouth. Her mother is nearly as pleasant as she, complaining that there is no room for the "star" to sit because all of the "crew" is eating here too. Look at Abbie's mother who is wide-eyed, biting her lip. Kooka is not so subtle. Tell Kooka to close her mouth and quit staring.

3:30: Get final dismissal from Blondie. Clock out and call Kari the agent. Realize that over 500 takes were shot. Punk and Kooka's clips could be cut right out. Do not tell children this. They are very excited. Listen to them exclaim, "Can you believe they PAID us to play in a waterpark?" Start worrying that if they can get paid to eat cake, jump in bouncy castles, and swim in waterparks that they will never want real jobs.