typo

If you got the birth announcement and headed to this blog - sorry, thanks to the printer - who corrected half of the card, and left the other half undone - you landed at the wrong site. Most of the info you are looking for is at the OTHER DAYDREAMERS BLOG.

Not sure when I will update here. Things have been busy, and keeping one blog going is tough enough.

j

busy

Sorry - we haven't been here much.

Only 14 days left until baby Yoda gets here, and we have been busy.

Actually - that's not entirely true - we've been sick, and "busy" sounds much better than "lying around for two weeks, and now have a to-do list so long, that we may never see the light of day."

But that's what it's been like.

I'll try to get back here soon.

In the meantime - feel free to check out the other blog.

punk turns 11

It is too much to take in at once. In the course of a week, both kids have aged dramatically.

Punk celebrated his 11th birthday with his friends on the 11th, and family on the 13th. I wonder if that is why he looks so incredibly subdued in his exit interview:

gloating - just a bit

Did you hear that?

It is the sound of me jumping up and down.
It is the sound of me shouting for joy.
It is the sound of one certain principal's theory about my child zooming down the toilet.

Ohhhhh - in case the news has not yet made it across town, Punk was one of a handful of 4th & 5th graders to receive the Presidential Academic Excellence Award today. Yes I say - "EXCELLENCE" not "troubling" or "unmotivated" or even "pretty decent" - EXXXXCCCCEELLLLLEENNNNCE.

It means he had to have over a 90% GPA in everything he did. In addition, he had to exhibit exemplary citizenship/leadership skills. Not "disturbing" or "concerning" citizenship skills not even "good" - EXEMPLARY.

He has a golden pin and certificate to prove it - which he has been proudly displaying all day.

And even though this is what I expect of him, we are still pretty proud of the guy, and I must admit it feels reallllllllllllly good to gloat.

exit inteview

Before each kid goes to bed on their birthday, I interview them about the previous year. This is part of Kooka's - she took it verrrry seriously (as you can tell).





This is Kooka. I loved my birthday. We had a spa party and it was really fun. We had partners, we did massages, we did makeovers and manicures. The next day I celebrated with my family and I got a Pixos set, caligraphy pens and a certificate to go to the mall with my mom. I really love those gifts.

debut

In case you missed it (and you did - because even Punk didn't make this one - he was busy recovering from a tooth pulling) - here is Kooka's musical instrument debut. Her Egrets class played little xylaphones and recorders during the concert. She was amazing - as usual.

pool

Lately I have been posting more things at the new blog. Not sure why - maybe they are more pertinent to school and stuff. Maybe I am just too busy to post much of anything lately. Maybe I am just waiting until this school year is over so I can suffer out the rest of this pregnancy in relative peace.

Regardless, I didn't want anybody to miss this picture of Punk and Kooka in their new pool. It is only 33 inches high (well at least on one side - it's at a bit of an incline) but they have spent hours in it. Which is a good thing, because it is so lopsided, that it will likely be tipped over by tomorrow morning.

when punk grows up

Punk has informed me that when he grows up, he is going to be the kind of adult that has lego key chains, eats pizza for dinner every night, wears keenes every day, and has a gps that talks like this:

ooohhhhhhhhhh

Did I mention......?

I should have.

Should have been the first thing I did was run to this blog when I found out over a week ago.

Sorry if I left you hanging.

The child who "is not a bully", the child who Punk was "looking for conflict with", the child whom the school director emphatically claimed was NOT the source of Punk's bullying issues - was finally asked to leave the school. They won't confirm it - but three sets of parents have.

She was biting people - and breaking skin.

You heard me folks - 11 years old biting people until they bleed.

Good thing the principal chose our family to allienate. Good thing they kept the rabid family happy.

torn

I am torn between two blogs. (Actually if I am being honest, it's probably more than that).

I am not sure if I should post more often here, or at the new DAYDREAMERS. Punk likes the new one because he's done all of the artwork, but Kooka likes the tradition of this one.

Hmmmmmmmm.

Any ideas?

punk's you tube

This is Punk. I think these videos are HYSTERICAL!



And this one

help zachary

I do not know this little boy or his family, but I heard his story, and know that if this were Punk, Kooka or Yoda - I'd want this story on every blog I could find.

Please help spread the word to help find a new kidney for 6 year-old Zachary.

HELP ZACHARY

punk's piano

We love Punk's piano teacher! She is just what he needs - fun, but still knows how to keep him on task - and look at what he can do after only 4 lessons:

new digs

I am thinking about starting a new blog that is more specific to homeschooling ideas and how we live.

If any of you would care to check it out and give me your opinion on what you like and what you don't, I would be eternally grateful. Like I said - I am just now getting the skeleton of it down, and plan to transfer some posts, and update more education/travel stuff there - I'll keep the family fun stuff here.

Anyway . . . please go check it out and let me know what you think (on this blog please - I check this one more often). Thanks!

new daydreamers

does anybody else think this is creepy?

baby clothes

Oh please, please, please put this on my non-existent baby registry.

Yesterday, as I sipped my mocha and strolled through an unnamed store looking for yard furniture, I stumbled onto a section of baby clothing. Don't ask what the onsies were doing right next to the garden gnomes - it was just that kind of place.

But I digress.

I could not believe the sheer volume of baby camo that is available in the state of Minnesota. It's true - there were at least four racks of it. There was digitized army camo - in case your baby is deployed to the desert, oak leaf camo - perfect for leaving your baby in a decaying pile of forest compost while you stalk a 10 point buck, and even toddler-sized camo backpacks - in case your 18 month old is planning to ambush a government building and needs to lie low in the woods for a few hours with his pipe bomb equipment.

For real?!

Who needs to camouflage their baby? I had enough trouble trying to find mine half the time!

And I can't begin to fathom what this little dress means. It's for a 6 month old, and in case it's tough to read, says, "Daddy's Little Deer." What?! I get the whole play on words thing - but what is it really trying to say? Because let's not forget that anyone who buys this for their kid is the type of person who will, after consuming copious amounts of Schlitz Malt Liquor, spend hours crouched in a tree during a bitter Minnesota winter, just for the opportunity to pop a cap in said "deer." Might as well just paint a bullseye on the back of this thing, and call the taxidermist now.

Unless you hear that baby Yoda is up for a role in "The Hunted 2" - there's really no need to give us one of these - ever - no really - I mean it.

no surprise

It's really no big surprise - considering how talented everybody is, but STILL, Punk and Kooka were thrilled to find out that they (along with their dad & the extended crew) actually WON the whole peeps contest.

They got a full page spread in the Sunday paper, and were crazy excited.

You can check out the link here.

stop theif

We need a bit of advice here.

The entire family is 99.9% certain that one of the kid's friends is a budding kleptomaniac. On top of attempting to entice one of our own children to go "steal some candy from the basement," we found a few things missing when this particular child went home.

These are not big things, or expensive things - just things that we know somebody had to have taken.

For example - two of the knobs on our kitchen drawers have been unscrewed and are nowhere to be found. Bearing in mind that even a 6.0 earthquake would not have simultaneously unscrewed two knobs on adjacent drawers - these things are on pretty tight, they HAD to be unscrewed by somebody. And even if we DID accept the earthquake theory, the knobs would still be laying on the floor - right?

And then there is the little matter of a cutting blade - not a big deal, just a tough to replace part of a paper cutter. We all know it was there when the kid got here (I used it), and it was not there when the kid left.

Our child has since said, "I don't really want that kid over any more," - a request with which I am more than happy to comply.

But the question remains . . . how do we handle the situation? Obviously we can buy more knobs - that isn't the issue. The issue, is that when Rico agreed to call the child and nonchalantly ask if they had seen any loose knobs, this child, without missing a beat instantly replied "No, no, no, I didn't take anything."

Not "what knobs?" or "I don't remember seeing anything like that" or "that's weird" . . . . just, "I didn't steal anything."

Soooo . . . we could use some advice. Feel free to comment here, or just leave your opinion on the poll in the upper right.

(Oh - and in case we are keeping track, which a grudge holding mother would never do . . but just in case the rest of you are - this child happens to come from the same school where the principal insisted there are no "bad kids - no bullies, no thieves" - Just troublemakers like Punk - grrrrrrrr)

update

Quick update, because there is really no time for much else:

• In case you haven't heard - it's a girl, and unfortunately we still call her Yoda.

• Huge projects at work (at least huge for somebody carrying a bowling ball as she dances throughout the day)

• Just colored Easter eggs - and dropped three.

• We are super thankful for the park in our backyard - AND the prepaid cellphone, which works much better than a whistle

• Punk is reading Artemis Fowl, I am reading Fablehaven 5, Rico is working on Stick Figure, and Kooka is reading about wild plants.

• Piano lessons for Punk are going wonderfully! His teacher says he is a quick learner, and he often practices for an hour at a time with no prompting. EIther he loves it, or is coming down with something.

clothes

This is getting a little old.

I have never been a good at being pregnant - but I promised that if I ever had the good fortune to have a third child, that I would relish the whole experience.

Whatever.

Aside from the all-day sickness, virus that morphed into leg paralysis, and inability to do my job properly - there is this little nugget, that I have never been able to avoid:

All maternity clothes fall into one of two categories: a)Suburban businesswoman trying to look professional while hiding an over-inflated beach ball under her smartly buttoned oxford . . . or B) Mother-to-be who never gets off of the couch, eats cheetos all day, and is content to take her kids to dance class wearing hot pink leggings and an oversized Pooh Bear T-shirt.

MY GOD!

And even when I do manage to find something without a screen-printed Tweety Bird, it is still revolting. There is absolutely nothing available that does not make me look like a) a nerd b) a slob or c) a druid from a George Lucas production.

I suppose that if I were willing to spend $76 dollars for a t-shirt, I could manage to look respectable for the next 4 months, but I can't bring myself to do it. Besides - even those shirts seem to take a crude delight in pointing out the obvious. A white tank I found, simply reads "Oops!" Another actually says "Sex Ed Dropout," while a third plasters a red foil star boldly across the navel proclaiming it's wearer to not only be pregnant, but apparently, also . . . a Sneetch.

I am just going to keep stuffing myself into my regular clothes as long as I can.

peep show

Punk and Kooka have asked me to post this here in a shameless effort to garner more votes:

They - along with their dad & uncles & grandparents, created the "Peepling Brothers Circus" for a contest held by the St. Paul Pioneer Press. You really should go vote for them - at least once - if not more. Last time I checked they were in 2nd place - and the first place one is reallllllly bad. Please go help them out - vote HERE.

no time

I want to write here - I really do, but our daily schedule isn't allowing for much free time. Between the 3 of us needing to be at three different schools, at three different times, in three different cities, in addition to homeschool stuff - it's a bit of a stretch.

Sorry - I'll try to get back here soon.

random

Random shots from our recent road trip (in no particular order)


The view from the car on the Monongahela incline in Pittsburg


Punk at the gift shop in Ford's Theater.


Kooka sinking subs at the Spy Museum.


Punk at the Mouse House cheese shop in Wisconsin Dells.


Our jail cell booth at the Safehouse restaurant.


Three of us at the top of the incline (notice Punk's relieved smile)


Punk and Kooka entering the spy museum.

10

Punk: I am really going to miss being 10.

Rick: Why? Don't you miss being 5, and 8?

Punk: Yeah - but everyone always makes comparisons to an average 10 year old boy, and it's so nice to be able to relate and say, 'Yeah I know exactly what you mean.'"

finally

So we are just getting home, just settling back into some sort of normalcy, when one of my children pulls out a map.

"I want to go to Texas next," she says. "Or maybe New York." She is completely, absolutely stone-faced, serious. She looks up at me expectantly, like I already have the hotels booked and the itinerary planned.

IS SHE KIDDING?

I haven't even emptied the cooler. I haven't even emptied the VAN! Our simsuits are still drying in the shower - no lie.

But I know how she is. And unfortunately, have to take complete credit/blame/whatever you want to call it - because I am exactly the same.

Tonight we took the time to color a US map. We colored all of the states that she has visited in bright colors, and colored the others gray. Typically sunny Punk took a gander at the map and said, "Whoa - look at that - I've been a lot of places for a 10 year-old."

Kooka agreed, but was then quick to point out all of the places she had yet to knock off the list. "Holy Cow!" Punk exclaimed, "You're supposed to see them all before you turn 18 - not see them all in one year!"

But this is typical Kooka - typical me, to look at her list, and only see the undone. She has such a hard time acknowledging her accomplishments - and is always looking to what she's left unfinished - much like myself.

She said that when she's done with the states - she's moving on to countries.

Hopefully she'll take me with her.

And hopefully she'll be paying.

great american roadtrip 2.0 - day 9

Finally - we are heading towards home.

We are exhausted, and still feel the itchy burn of chlorine embedded in our skin. Punk cannot believe that we can't see the Washington Monument anymore, and Kooka says she misses DC. I miss bubble tea and seeing history everywhere I go. Rico misses the adventure of having something new every night.

But Wisconsin Dells is fun. We HAD to stop at Wizard Quest - which as Kooka said, "Is so much fun - even for a businessman Rick."

Pictures later - but for now - rest.

the great american roadtrip 2.0 - day 8

Not much to report.

Today was another drive.

First we stopped at the Rainforest carwash to give Turk a bath. The tiki head outside beckoning to us was Punk's favorite part.

We cruised through Chicago - but not without stopping for deep dish pizza at Gino's East - where they not only encourage you to write on the walls, but they give you the supplies to do it.

Our stop for the night was Wisconsin Dells, where we splashed until 9 at the Mt. Olympus Indoor Waterpark.




The kids outside the Rainforest Carwash - near Lafayette, IN.

punk and kooka's visited states

visited 23 states (46%)
Create your own visited map of The United States

the great american road trip 2.0 - day 7

A long, long, long day in the car - but it all worked out.

We passed through West Virginia and Ohio, working through schoolwork, chapter books, games and MadLibs before we finished the day in Indianapolis, where we hit the motherload.

We stopped at Mug & Bun - a 1941 drive through diner, where Punk found the root beer to end all root beers. He proclaimed it "Epic," and said that when he is president, or a famous actor that he will only drink this root beer. Furthermore, he said he was going to buy some, age it in our basement, and pull it out on his wedding day, and tell his bride that "2010 was a very good year."

It was that good. No surprise since they make it on site. It was smokey and smooth, with an aftertaste of vanilla caramel - unlike anything any of us had ever had. We also had handmade onion rings, which Rico, Kooka and I agreed were the best we'd ever had.And finally, Kooka and I finished our hunt for the best mac&cheese in the USA. We found it right there at the Mug & Bun - deep fried mac&cheese wedges! AMAZING!

After dinner Rico took us all duckpin bowling - where he soundly kicked our collective behinds.

More swimming, more cable TV, and we are out for the night.

the great american roadtrip 2.0 - day 6

We're in the Appalachian Mountains, and have limited internet service, so I'll have to be brief.

* Quick stop at the Jefferson Monument (on the anniversary of his inauguration). We got to write with feather quills, play with Jefferson-era toys (many of which we have at our house), and smell lye soap.

* A tour through the Federal Bureau of Engraving and Printing - where Punk got his picture taken with a million dollars, and we measured what each kid was worth in $100 bills.

* A slow drive through Gettysburg Battlefield, where all of us felt a bit uneasy at the thought of having to duel with someone at such close range.

* Dinner at Hoss's Steak and Sea.

* A swim and lots of cartoons before bed.

the great american road trip 2.0 - video

If this trip has accomplished nothing else, it has given me insight to how fundamentally different both of my children are.

One of them said this: "No - that is not Neil Armstrong's space suit. I would recognize it if I saw it." This is the same child who asked for a turn to work the cotton gin, and then took home raw cotton to practice cleaning it by hand. This one examined the blood splatters on Abraham Lincoln's pillow, and glared at the statue of John Wilkes Booth, as if giving him dirty looks would somehow help avenge the good guys. The same child, who when asked what they thought of the Vietnam Wall, said very quietly, "Do we have to talk about it? It makes me sad."

The other child, works something like this: "Hey, that is Amelia Erhart's plane!" (How do you know?) "Because I recognize it from Night at the Museum." The same child memorized the entire preamble to the constitution in under 10 minutes, and then said, "It's easy - just like memorizing lines." This is the child who could not even bear to look at the Vietnam Wall, let alone Lincoln's pillow. To this child - ignorance is bliss - truly.


I'll leave you to figure out who is who, but the videos below should give you a clue.

how punk retains his history facts

Driving past the White House:

Kooka: Wow - just think, the president is in there right now. Every single president lived right there - Abraham Lincoln lived there, George Washington lived there.

Me: Well, actually he didn't get to. It wasn't built yet.

Punk: And then there was that fire, so this one was built later. So not every president was in there. Most of them, but not all.

Kooka: Whoa - who was in it when it burned down?

Me: Hmmm - I can't recall.

Punk: It was that guy that was married to Little Debbie.

Me & Rick: Little Debbie?!?

Punk: Yeah.

Me: You mean Dolly Madison?

Punk: Yeah . . . that's the one, I knew it had something to do with snack cakes.

(he was right)

the great american road trip 2.0 - day 5

It's a freezy, drizzly, dreary day in DC - luckily we spent most of the day inside.

First stop was the American History Museum, where Kooka loved seeing Kermit the Frog, and Dorothy's real ruby slippers. Punk's favorite part was the C3PO costume from Return of the Jedi. I, on the other hand, could have spent hours looking at Abrham Lincoln's top hat, and the real Star Spangled Banner.

We had lunch at the Old Post Office Pavillion, and then rode over to the Air and Space Museum.

This was Rico's favorite stop, and he loved checking out the Wright Brother's first flying machine (pictured above). Kooka was enamored with Amelia Erhart's plane, and Punk spent his time gazing into the ultra-cramped cockpit of the first space shuttles. We also got to touch the moon - a real piece of moon rock. Punk offered to put his foot up on the display - so he could say that he walked on the moon, but I convinced him that touching is more than most people get to do anyway - and he kept his shoes on.

But everybody is a bit worn out. The weather is gloomy, and two of us have scratchy throats (Punk so much that he and I took turns riding in the wheelchair through the museum). Today was fun - but hopefully tomorrow will be better.

the great american road trip 2.0 - day 4.5

Last night's diner in Chinatown was fabulous! Even Punk, who is not a fan of Asian cuisine exclaimed "Wow, this is a lot better than I thought!" He loved the sesame chicken, steamed dumplings, and hot tea. Kooka liked fresh noodles and tea. Rico, Noah and I shared a coconut bubble tea for dessert, which we loved, but Kooka declared Rick's slurping of the tapioca beans through the straw, "disgusting."

Today we are off to my favorite museum of all - American History. Just for today we are going to try to steer clear of graveyards, homages to infamous murders, and monuments that remind of us of sad things. Just for today we are going to focus on all of the fun parts about being an American.

the great american road trip 2.0 - day 4

The National Mall was our first stop today - the Washington Monument to be exact. Punk was in tears at the prospect of riding an elevator to the top, but managed to peer out the windows and even take a few photos once we got there. Kooka thought the experience was "amazing" and kept looking back over her shoulder as we left, saying "Can you believe I was all the way up there?"

Next stop was the Lincoln Memorial. This was a highlight for both kids, since the monument was prominently featured in "Night at the Museum 2." Punk said it was the highlight of his day.

After making our way down the stairs, we spent a silent 10 minutes walking along the Vietnam Wall. I am the only one of us who had ever seen it before, henceforth, the only one who was really prepared. Rick had a hard time watching, Punk was uncharacteristically quiet, and Kooka kept reading and reading, finally coming to the conclusion that no matter how fast she read, she would never see them all. Finally, we decided to each pick one name and pray for that soldier's family, which brought a bit of closure to the visit.



We stopped for street vendor lunch - dirty water hot dogs (ketchup for Punk, mustard & onions for Kooka and I - and some sort of garbage disposal contraption for Rico. He did coerce me into taking a bite, but not two).



Since we'd hit the Spy Museum yesterday, it was Punk's turn to choose, and it came as no surprise that he picked the Smithsonian Museum of Natural History. His time there varied between glassy eyed stares at giant squids, and protoceratops skulls - to frenzied running back and forth shouting. "You guys have GOT to see this!" He was even brave enough to hold some sort of third-world insect at the Orkin Insect Zoo. Rico held a Madagascar hissing cockroach. Kooka and I were content to watch, until he accidentally dropped the 4-inch insect at out feet. It began to shuffle towards us both, and we quickly found something else to look at.

Even though they had been prepared, both kids were disappointed at the size of the Hope Diamond. Punk thought the giant quartz was far more impressive, and Kooka loved looking at all of the crowns and royal jewelry.

On the way back, we stopped for a snack at Red Velvet Cupcakery. Kooka had the birthday cake special, Punk opted for the Vanilla Bean, and Rico and I shared key lime. Three of us agree that it was totally worth the $10 price (I'll let you figure out who the lone dissenter might be).

For now, we are back at the hotel. The kids are thrilled to be let loose in the pool, Rick is napping on a poolside chair, and I am here - watching it all, reveling in how very lucky we are.

Tonight we will cruise past the White House, eat dinner in Chinatown, and head to my favorite monument of all - the Jefferson Memorial - where again, I will probably watch it all and revel in how very lucky we are.

the great american road trip 2.0 - day 3

It's usually quite late by the time I get a chance to post here, but I'll do my best to keep you all up to speed. (forgive my absolutely disgusting photos - my uploader cord is broken, so all I can offer is cell phone pics - I'll fix them when we get home).

The day started out on a somber note. For all the times I have been to DC, I'd never really had a chance to explore Ford's Theater - so that was our first stop for the day. We saw the pistol that ended Lincoln's life, and we all marveled at the fact that just one steel pebble could inflict so much damage. As we made our way up to the balcony, both Punk and I were a little creeped out by the purposeful, audible ticking of a clock, counting President Lincoln's final moments. We peered into the president's booth and imagined what it must have been like to be in the theater that night (a little tough to do, as the theater crew was busy putting the finishing touches on the set for "Little Shop of Horrors" - but thankfully we have good imaginations).

I was pleasantly surprised by both kid's history knowledge. Rico looked over the balcony where John Wilkes Booth jumped, and said, "Whoa - that's a long way down - surprised the guy didn't break a leg." At which point both kids turned to him in unison and said, "He DID!" Then again - they always seem to have a better memory for disastrous events.


We then walked across the street to the Petersen House - where the President lay for nine hours before he finally died from his injuries. It was sad, and eerie - and although I'm glad I went, I have no desire to go back soon. Kooka seemed to get the same vibe, and followed me out very quietly. Punk on the other hand, was more disturbed walking back down the steps from the theater balcony. He kept saying, "It's just not fair - it's the one thing he never did in here. He walked up the steps, and he never got to walk back down."

After our sobering morning - we decided to chase some adventure at the National Spy Museum. Kooka was in HEAVEN. She has been talking about becoming a spy for the better part of two years - and this was a chance for the girl to test her skills. Both she and Punk had a great time memorizing their back story, uncloaking disguised spies, tunneling under the Berlin Wall, sinking enemy submarines, and crawling through the air ducts to spy on visitors. Thankfully, I didn't notice the "absolutely NO photos or videocameras allowed" until we were leaving. I have tons of pictures - and will post them when I get back.

A quick stop at the Navy memorial, and lunch at Manhattan Deli, and then it was off to the Smithsonian Museum of American Art. It was a quick stop, and we all agreed that the contemporary exhibit in the Lincoln hallway was the best. It was there that we saw the US neon exhibit, which we all agreed was the coolest thing there.


At 4 pm there was a short detour back to the hotel - a nap for me, and a short swim for the kids and Rico. Then we were off to Virginia for a dinner date with Rick's good friends. We met at an adorable riverside cafe. (It was also haunted - which always helps when you are taking a 10 year old boy on a dinner date). Rick's friends were so sweet, and as both kids were thrilled to discover, not at all shy about mocking Rick at the dinner table.

Now it's late, and I am appalled at my writing - I usually put more time into this - but baby Yoda has me wiped out . . . . hopefully it's enough for you guys to keep up.

the great american road trip 2.0 - day 2

It is way too late to post anything. Nobody should spend 9 hours a day in the car - nobody . . . especially me. The kids and Rick were fine - I was going absolutely ballistic. Here are the highlights of day 2 (not many - because did I mention - NINE hours in the car?!)

• Left Fremont, Indiana, drove 1 mile north just to say we hit Michigan, then barreled through Ohio.

• Stopped for lunch in Pittsburg - french-fry sandwiches (yeah - they were as good as they sound) at Primanti Bros. Dessert at Fudgie Wudgie - blueberry fudge for Rico, Punk and Kooka, and a homemade peanut butter cup for me.

• The trip up and down the Monongahela Incline, was punctuated by Rico's impromptu performance of the Macarena in front of an unsuspecting priest, 3 goth teenagers, and a group of college kids. It was a bet, he couldn't explain himself, just perform. He was paid with a sliver of Kaia's fudge - which he insists, was worth every second of humiliation.

• Hours later, we pulled into DC - a quick dinner, a quick swim, and we are all in bed (finally) watching the History Channel.

• Tomorrow we are off to the spy museum - Kooka can't wait.

the great american road trip 2.0 - day 1

Not much to report - just a really, really long day in the car - 10 hours.

There was a quick stop at the Mouse House Cheese Shop, for candy cow pies and fresh cheese curds, and then it was three more hours until our next destination.

We had lunch at our favorite spy restaurant - Milwaukee's Safe House. Kooka was amazed at the secret moving doors, two-way mirrors, and tricks around every corner. We won't dare give away all of the secrets of this place - half the fun is figuring it out yourself, but we will fill you in on the menu: thick cheeseburgers, baked mac and cheese, pita chips with warm garlic dip, french dip sandwiches, German root beer and cold lemonade - all of it amazing!

Now we are all in bed somewhere in Fremont, IN. Eight more hours until we reach DC.

blast off

Three days until blast off.

It's been a goal of mine since Punk was born - both kids should see all 50 states before they turn 18. Thankfully, both kids have adopted this goal as their own, and are very willing travelers.

Kooka in particular has really taken this to heart, and made it her New Year's resolution to knock off another state this year. Punk followed suit, and so, in an effort to help them both achieve their goal, we are heading out on yet another road trip.

If we're lucky we'll hit about 6 new states on our way to Washington DC.

We'll keep you posted.

i'm on a horse

This has nothing to do with homeschooling, or my family, or my life in general . . . but this commercial cracks me up.

priorities

I don't have all of the answers when it comes to homeschooling.
Sometimes it feels like I don't have any.

I think we all just do the best that we can, hoping and praying that at some point our kids do learn how to throw a baseball, use hair gel, and buy new pants when the old ones come up past their socks.

When we started this adventure - back when Punk was only three, there were goals: allow our kids to explore the world beyond the classroom, encourage them to learn at their own pace, teach them the value of work, build their social confidence among all age groups and make learning fun. We still have the same goals. I still contend that those are probably the most valuable skills a person can glean from any education. However, after 18 months in the public school system, I find myself constantly second guessing the best way to achieve these goals.

Is it better to use multiplication flash cards, or to have the kids make a triple batch of brownies? Do organizational skills start with a clean room, or a well written daily planner? Do we learn geography best from a map, or cruising across the country?

Although I suspect that the truth lies somewhere in the middle, the reality is - I don't know. I won't know until Kooka is finishing her dissertation and says, "I hated when you made me write my spelling words, but I have not misspelled 'embarrass' since the fourth grade." Or when I ask Punk if he knows the capital of Colorado, and he says "Is that the place where we rode up the mountains on that really scary tram?"

Only then, will everything come to light.

So in the meantime, I'm asking my friends for assistance.

If you were to homeschool your child and had a bit of extra money after covering the basics, what would be the best way to invest in your child's education - great books and curriculum; extra curricular activities - music lessons, karate, dance class; travel experiences; or technology (computers, software, etc). Again - I assume that the best scenario is to share the wealth - spread it out a bit, but every family has their priorities, and I am curious to find out yours.

The poll is in the upper corner of the blog - it's completely anonymous. Thanks!

seriously?

I am just going to take 10 seconds in this public forum to point out, that after mocking my choice of "Teddy Roosevelt" glasses last month, Punk proceeded to choose a pair of wire rims yesterday. Wire rims that look exactly like Benjamin Franklin!

My selection was at least a century cooler. At least he agreed with me on the Michael Buble' haircut, and styling putty - at least his hair is looking up to date.

valentines day

It is a tradition at our house:

After a special family dinner, each person takes a turn to pass out their Valentines, and have them read. Then, starting with the oldest member of the family, we each receive one red or pink present.

This year was extra special - because it was the first Valentine's day that Rico shared with us. Punk's note to him was especially touching - actually, all of Punk's notes were beautiful - hand drawn charactitures of each of us, and a lovely paragraph about what he loves most about each person. Kooka's were hand-made as well - intricate pop-ups with dainty pink and red designer lettering. The kind of things I'll save forever.

Rico was the first to open his gift - a plush red, fuzzy blanket, perfect for napping by the fire. Then came me - a red crystal charm for my very favorite bracelet. Punk was next - and the look on his face was priceless.

He opened his gift to find a shirt that read "I love Mommy." There was borderline terror in his face, when I told him that I could not wait to see him wear it to school tomorrow. He didn't say no . . .he just kept saying "Thank you mom - it's great for wearing around the house." He was so polite about it, and really didn't want to hurt my feelings. "Is this homemade?" he asked with all of the fake enthusiasm he could muster. He only relaxed when I tossed him the bag of velcro letters that came with it. It was a shirt by "Shout Out!" - which is a company that sells the coolest customizable t-shirts ever.

Thankfully, by the time Kooka opened her "I love my mom shirt" she was in on the joke (though I suspect she would have minded much less about parading it around).

They both spent the better part of an hour rearranging their new gear. Punk has since switched his to read "This is what cool looks like" and Kooka's says "Almost Famous."

We finished the night with caramel brownies, snuggles, hugs, and sweet dreams.

kooka

My photo downloader thingy is broken, and I just realized that although I have tons of photos of Kooka, I have not given her her fair share of props as far as the writing goes.

So here is a quick Kooka update:

• According to her teacher's conference report, she is a "bright star in the class room." She has tons of friends, (both 2nd and 3rd graders - she's in a mixed classroom), and is reading and performing math above grade level. In her free time she likes to read the dictionary, to learn "more intriguing words."

• She has become a crazy inventor. With her box full of supplies, she is always creating something. This week is was glove with a spoon for each finger, which allows the wearer to either scrape the cake batter from a bowl more efficiently, or feed five American Girl dolls at once - take your pick.

• She went to help teach a chess class last week, and loved it.

• She is learning to play the marimba in music class.

• She is thrilled at the prospect of becoming a big sister. She sings to baby Yoda all of the time, and is keeping her fingers crossed for a girl (as long as the new baby doesn't horn in on her girl nights with mom).

• One of her goldfish, Minnow just died.

• She is very excited about our upcoming roadtrip, and the fact that she may get to see a real spy museum!

• She just finished reading The Giggler Treatment and book 1 in the Sister's Grimm series.

• She provided all of the artwork for our Valentine this year - and even compared to her brother, this kid can hold her own with a set of Crayolas.

the vet's home

I got another invitation to be admitted to the Veteran's Home today. The last one came on my birthday, and asked if I was prepared to be admitted now, or would like to defer the opportunity.

Since the closest I have ever come to serving in the armed forces was when I used to drink Shirley Temples at the VFW bar with my granddad, I decided to defer. Besides, I was six at the time - and even though I admit to suffering a little post-traumatic- shock, from being forced to listen to repeated rounds of "Rhinestone Cowboy" and "Hot Child in the City" on the jukebox, eventually I got over it. Furthermore, it took the VA three decades to hunt me down, and when they did, they didn't even offer me free tickets to a pancake breakfast or anything - just straight to the home for me.

This information was a bit disturbing.

So you can imagine how startled I was to receive today's news. Today the mailman dropped off my enrollment papers. They said I had been approved to begin the process of being accepted into the home. But here is the best part: I don't even have to enroll myself. According to the forms, all I need to do is supply the name and address of myself OR the person I would like to have admitted.

Wow.

Had I known that hanging out at the VFW eating Slim Jims and breathing in second hand smoke was going to have THIS kind of payoff, I would have asked to go more often.

Needless to say, I have an entire collection of people that I am asking to have admitted: 1) a certain snarky blogger 2) the neighbor with dogs that bark at 3 am 3)the entire cast of Jersey Shore . . . I am going to need extra postage.

Do not get on my bad side until next Monday - that's the deadline for returning this thing.

my new hero

This guy on facebook cracks me UP. He is 74 years old, crochety as heck - and his son keeps track of his quips. These are some of my favorite things he's said to his grown sons: (some have been edited for language here):

"You look just like Stephen Hawking...Relax, I meant like a non-paralyzed version of him. Feel better?... Fine. Forget I said it."

"Oh please, you practically invented lazy. People should have to call you and ask for the rights to lazy before they use it."

"I need to change clothes? Wow. That's big talk coming from someone who looks like they robbed a Mervyn's."

"The baby will talk when he talks, relax. It ain't like he knows the cure for cancer and he just ain't spitting it out."

"You sure do like to tailgate people... Right, because it's real important you show up to the nothing you have to do on time."

"You're being over dramatic. You own a TV and an air mattress. That's not exactly what I'd call "a lot to lose."

"Can we talk later? The news is on... Well, if you have tuberculosis it's not gonna get any worse in the next 30 minutes, jesus."

I hope I'm this smart when Punk and Kooka are grown ups.

careful what you wish for

"I wish I was as dumb as I used to be."

Punk - lamenting the loss of his blissful ignorance on the way to school.

roller rink

I meant to post this a three months ago - when we actually did it - needless to say, got caught up in other things.

I grew up at the roller rinks in CA, so when I finally remembered that there was a rink in the suburbs, I couldn't wait to take the kids. After a little practice, they both started to get the hang of it. They still play the YMCA song, and do those stupid race games where you can win a free soda. (Rico and I tied) I can't wait to go back! (though I'll probably have to learn to walk properly before I should put myself back on wheels)

what bugs me

I hate that so many people read this - and hardly anybody ever comments.

I wonder if I should make it an invite only blog . . .that way nobody lurks.

Any ideas?

homeschooling - the intermediate years

It wasn't easy telling our friends and family that we intended to homeschool. "What about his socialization?" "Are you trying to turn him into a freak?" "Are you going to shelter him for the rest of his life?" "Is this because you can't afford private school?"

Although I have yet to meet a homeschooler who choose their path for these reasons (then again - it's been a while since I've frequented any compounds in Utah), this seems to be a consensus among the general population. And try as we might, there was really no getting our point across when the kids were younger.

The main reason we chose homeschooling - was exactly the opposite of what everyone was so concerned about. We thought it a bit freakish, that our 5 year old - who read at a 4th grade level would be practicing his abc's all day. It was freakish to think that this kid, who had been surrounded since the day of his birth, by kids of all ages, would be plunked in a room full of other 5 year olds for the better part of his week. In the real world - decisions are not always made by somebody three decades your senior. In the real world, you are surrounded by people of different ages, abilities and attitudes. We wanted a kid who knew how to live in the real world.

The facts of life are this: Nobody out here is sheltered. We are not all winners. You have to work hard to get what you want. A D in geography doesn't mean you're can't be a great accountant. Likewise, being an A+ English student doesn't guarantee you more than a job at Starbucks and a well-written blog. Sometimes cheaters win - but you still shouldn't be one. Even though you are really interested in Star Wars, not everybody at the table wants to discuss it at each Thanksgiving meal. Learning is not a chore - it is privilege. You are as capable as you imagine yourself to be. Most people have less than you. Mommy won't always be there. You don't have a real life Jiminy Cricket - develop your own conscience.

These things are all true - and they are the root of why we chose to homeschool.

Yet, despite knowing all of this, despite my best efforts, something was changing in Punk.

After the initial excitement of starting public school, and even the thrill of moving to a new school this year, the kid was becoming complacent - and I neither he, not I, could figure out why.

"Life was so much more exciting when I was younger," he'd say. "The whole world was exciting. Now, even when I play legos, it's just because I need something to do." I wracked my brain. Nothing seemed to be wrong per se - he did his homework, built lego contraptions, caught toads, had his friends over - normal fifth grade stuff.

Normal fifth grade stuff.

Which got me thinking.

My normal fifth grade stuff included being dropped of at Disneyland alone with a friend, and being told to meet at a restaurant by six. It included being sent to the grocery store two miles away, and flying across the country sans adult - with my little brother in tow. Even my first grade stuff included a two mile radius of bike riding freedom.

Punk and his friends did not have this kind of lifestyle. No 10 year-old I know has this kind of lifestyle.

Furthermore, Punk had never been an average kid. He was public speaking by age 3, lobbying for animal rights by 4, shooting commercials at 5, discussing paleontology theories with professionals by age 6 . . . the kid got around. He had an incredibly interesting life - even by adult standards.

But not so much anymore. He had turned into an average kid - and average kid with grown up ideas - and it was becoming increasingly obvious that he wasn't happy about it.

So I came up with the best solution I could.

I'd push him to the next step.

Independence.

Because while there is a certain satisfaction in completing any task - a perfect spelling test, setting the table, performing in a play - there is a quiet triumph in doing something wholly and completely on your own - like an adult - like a mature, independent person.

And that, I decided, is what this kid needed. He needed to keep growing. Giving two miles of bike riding freedom was an option - but a cruel one in February. I had no reason to put him on an airplane - and furthermore no one to send him to. So I chose the only bit of freedom I thought I could give - dinner.

He was quiet for a minute when I mentioned it to him.

"Punk, after school today I am going to give you 20 bucks and drop you off at the grocery store. You get to buy and cook dinner - whatever you want."

He looked at me like he was expecting more - like a catch.

"What do you mean - drop me off?"

"I mean what it sounds like. Kooka and I are not coming in. Go shop for what you need, and I'll pick you up when you're done."

"Really? Wow! Like - whatever I want?"

I hesitate here. Because every cell in my body was screaming "Balanced meal!" "Don't buy crap!" "And for the love of god - please not fishsticks." But all that came out of my mouth is "Yep - it just has to be a meal - because you are making dinner tonight - alone."

Both he and Kooka look thrilled with the prospect. But even little sister bites her tongue - she knows this is big - knows this is Punk's opportunity. Uncharacteristically, she doesn't even give any advice.

So, 1:00 rolls around, and I pick both of them up from school. Punk is ready to head to Cub Foods, and I am dying inside. What if some seedy boxboy tells him he has more Fritos in "the back room"? What if the entire store catches on fire and he is stuck in the corner by frozen foods? What if somebody notices my beautiful, charismatic child shopping alone for taco spice, and decides to bind and gag him, and nobody notices their struggle down the ethnic foods aisle? God! So many possibilities, and none of them actually end in him coming out with a bagful of groceries. It's a wonder I even unlock the car door to let him out.

But I do, and he has the biggest smile on his face when he waves to us - and says, "See ya!"

I am positive that this is the last I will ever see of him. I take a mental picture of what he is wearing so I can describe it to John Walsh during our teleconference this evening.

My god. What have I done?! Teaching multiplication was one thing. Teaching independence is going to kill me.

Twenty five minutes later, Kooka and I pull up to the front of the grocery store. Punk is absolutely beaming - pushing his shopping cart, as he mimes for me to pop the trunk, he actually walks his cart all the way the little corral in sub zero weather. He slides into the back seat, breathless, all smiles, and says "That was AMAZING! Here is your change."

He hands me eight dollars and seventy two cents. "I spent under twelve bucks," he says, "I shopped the deals." I am so relieved that he is alive, that I don't even care that we might be eating expired deli meat and week-old bread for dinner.

"Mom," he says, "It was weird at first. When I grabbed my cart, I just kept thinking 'my gosh, this place is so big', but then, once I started shopping, nobody looked at me weird - they just treated me like a person mom, like a real person. They said hi to me, and the checkout lady, treated me like I was supposed to be there!"

He hands both Kooka and I snickerdoodles that he had taken from the free cookie bin. "I ate mine while I was shopping," he tells us, "and then I told the cashier, that these were from the free bin, and she said it was ok, and let me bring two for you guys." He pauses to catch his breath, and I can't help but giggle at how happy he is. "You know mom," he says, leaning forward in his seat, "my friends at school thought you were crazy. They didn't believe it when I told them. They had so many ideas about what I should buy. They were all really jealous of my adventure."

My adventure. That's what he said. My most dreaded, mundane task of grocery shopping was an adventure to my 10 year old.

We arrive home, and without any prompting, he unloads the groceries (which he bagged himself) from the trunk and puts them into the fridge. He sits himself down to do both his spelling and math, with no complaints, finishes his quiet reading, plays some math games on the computer, cleans the dining room table, sets it, and starts to make dinner. All without a word from me.

Dinner is absolutely perfect. Hot dogs broiled to perfection, on succulent, enriched white rolls, and array of delicately spiced corn chips to choose from, cool, frothy root beer floats, and for dessert - shortbread dipped in a rich milk chocolate.

He says he wants to do it again tonight - maybe tacos. I had to explain that we can't do exciting things liker grocery shop every day - but maybe soon, he'll get to pay the water bill, or haggle with the cell phone people in India to straighten out my bill.


P.S. If anybody reads this, and has any ideas - any ways that you teach your kids independence, we'd love to hear them. This appears to be a popular unit for us, and I have a feeling we'll be studying this for quite some time.

time travel

Kooka: "Mom - do you think that in my lifetime they will create a time machine?"

Me: "Hmmm, I don't know, but I kind of doubt it."

Kooka: "That is such a shame, because I would really like to visit my past. (pause) I mean, granted, I don't have much, but it would still be nice."

difference of opinion

We thought Punk needed glasses, so while we were waiting for the verdict, we hung out in the lobby looking over his optical options.

I picked out a pair of silver, circular, wire-rimmed glasses - not unlike Harry Potter, or the kid in Jerry McGuire. Simple, classic -a good look for a kid like Punk.

I hand them to him and say "What about these?"

Without missing a beat, with all of the fake excitement he can muster - he looks me right in the face and says, "Wow, thanks mom - can we get some moustache wax to go with those?! Because I think they'll look great with the handlebar moustache I've been trying to grow out."

The two sixty year old guys behind him busted out laughing. I had absolutely nothing to say.

And I still stand by the fact that they looked way better than the 1980's giant retro-tortoise shells he liked.

He says he looked like a combination of Teddy Rooseveldt and Doc the Dwarf.
Thankfully the doctor said, that although his vision in one eye is weird - he really does not need them anyway.

grrrrrrrr

I am super sick of MRI's.

Really.

My legs stopped working properly about three weeks ago, and it has been a constant barrage of testing ever since.

It's ridiculous - especially, since I assume the first test was the most accurate.

Anyway - if I sound grouchy - I am.

sick

Two kids. One on the couch, one in my bed. Nobody is going to school tomorrow. Including me.

what i wish

What I really wish, is that certain people would not be so judgmental.

There is one person in particular.

One who has complained to me several times about the issues in her own marriage - even about people we both know. This person would be appalled to have these issues aired in a public forum. Yet, she continues to make snarky comments on her own blog, continues to feed - no gorge - on whatever gossip she can generate, about my split (a year and a half old by the way - Tiger Woods was weeks ago, and people have already stopped talking about that.)

Sometimes I wonder what the fascination is. We all need to move on, and I would think - that if anyone was interested in the truth - they would at least attempt to hear both sides of the story. I really don't think my life is all that interesting anyway. Quirky at times - and most certainly unexpected, but for the most part, I really do try to keep to myself. Not sure why she cares at all. It's not like we talk. Not like I spill the things that would take her out of the running as the favorite.

Things are not always what they seem. Even in her little world.
It is easy to think that - easy to judge - easy to think you know the truth.
But nobody does.
And I have no intention of telling - because if I do - it is not my life that will be under scrutiny. And that is all I have to say here.

milkshake

So I redeemed my coupon from Punk - the one for the free milkshake.

I requested peanut butter banana, and Punk insisted that he be left to his own devices while preparing his masterpiece - no adults allowed in the kitchen.

So both the professor and I sat down to watch TV.

It was relatively quiet in the kitchen, and the professor kept throwing me sideways glances, until he simply could not stand it anymore. "Are you SURE, he can make a milkshake?! Are you sure he knows what he is doing?"

"Yes," I assured him, a bit annoyed that he would doubt the intelligence of my oldest child. I mean what moron isn't capable of blending 4 simple ingredients together and turning on the blender. "He knows exactly what he is doing. I am positive." (I wasn't)

"Well, its just that . . . I mean . . you know, he really likes to be creative."

"He's fine."

Five minutes later we hear the whirring of the blender, and no obvious screams - which tells me two things: a) no body parts got caught in the blades, and b) he remembered to put the lid on.

About three minutes after that, Kooka appears carrying two icy milkshakes. Punk follws behind with two more. We all sit down to partake. My first sip is tentative - so is the professor's. But low and behold this milkshake is not merely adequate, it is FANTASTIC - I mean really, really good - the perfect blend of flavors. I give the professor an "I told you so" look, and continue to praise Punk's culinary efforts.

"Yeah," the professor admits, "This is fantastic! I think you should open a shop!" Punk beams with pride.

"It was pretty easy," he says, "I just put in all of the ingredients; milk, ice cream, a banana, peanuts and butter."

"WHAT?!" - this is me.

"You know - peanut butter - so I put in peanuts and butter."

"Wait wait wait wait - like just cold butter from the butter dish?!"

"Yep!"

I am gagging. I can absolutely feel the fatty gobules of nasty, cold, greasy butter, covering my tongue. I think I am going to vomit. Tears pour out of my eyes - the effect of laughter, and gag reflex, and whole body convulsions.

The professor keeps drinking, just to keep from laughing out loud.

whoo whoo

Punk's first week at school part time:

100% spelling test
A+ in reading
3 chapters of math finished
5 days of rocket math - aced
1 science essay finished
4 pages of preparation for movie he is producing
2 sculpted heads for said movies
2 chapter books started
1 geography quiz - aced
1 happy child

how

Still not sure how we did it - but we did.

Got Kooka off to school, took Punk to Language arts class, went to work at my own school, picked up Punk, stopped for ham and cheese at Arby's, headed home and began homeschooling again. In less than 90 minutes we finished 15 pages of math, 3 weeks worth of spelling words, a pre-writing/brainstorming session, one geography lesson, and 2 computer math games.

Wow.

I am so surprised and grateful at how accommodating the public schools have been with loaning us books, allowing Punk to participate ala-carte, and offering so much support to this mid-year situation. It is the kind of flexibility and attitude we had hoped to find with charter schools, but when we inquired about such opportunities there, were told, "that it would be far too disruptive." Which is ok - everybody has their own thing, yet the local elementary school has been completely supportive of everything we need.

Punk had an amazing class today, fell in love with his teacher and the classroom, and overall, feels really happy to be in a place where he is challenged, creatively focused and most of all - accepted for who he is.

all you need

I love this - really love it. And after watching, have decided that the truly talented people live in Kosovo, Madagascar, Switzerland, the Philippines and of all places - Israel - who knew?

flying free

Punk finally has some peace.

I won't say too much more right now about our decision, only that A and I discussed it at length, and are both confident that we have found a solution that will give Punk what he needs - and more importantly, what he deserves.

The more time I spent with him during this break, the more I was reminded of what an incredible soul he is, and just what kind of nurturing he needs to reach his full potential.

best christmas present ever

It was a good Christmas.
Back in October, I told the kids that they would have to work to save up their own money to buy Christmas gifts. Chores were plentiful, and the pay was on the generous side, but still . . .

One of my children spent $40 on his sibling. He could not run to the American Girl store fast enough. He also kicked in $20 for his dad, $5 for cousins, $6 for grandpa, $3 for gram, $18 for the professor, and after that (unbeknowst to me) was a little short for the rest of his shopping.

Which, as it turns out - is why I got the very best Christmas present ever.

He could not wait for me to unwrap it - and confided that it was his very favorite gift to give this year.

It was flat, and light and red, and filled with all of the love a ten-year-old has to give.

It was a book of coupons - 16 to be exact. Inside of that little folder was absolutely everything I could possibly need: a coupon to make my bed, to do the dishes for free, for breakfast in bed, a coupon to play whatever his sister wants for half an hour, one for a free homemade milkshake, and my favorite - "will make a fool of myself for your amusement".

I cannot wait to use that one.