the daydreamers

typo

2010-08-19T14:00:00.000-07:00

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

2010-07-09T08:13:00.000-07:00

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

2010-06-17T09:13:00.000-07:00

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

2010-06-11T14:05:00.000-07:00

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

2010-06-06T11:20:00.000-07:00

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

2010-05-31T11:48:00.001-07:00

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

2010-05-23T21:11:00.000-07:00

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

2010-05-12T11:21:00.000-07:00

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

2010-04-26T20:36:00.000-07:00

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

2010-04-26T07:15:00.001-07:00

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

2010-04-20T18:25:00.001-07:00

This is Punk. I think these videos are HYSTERICAL!

And this one

help zachary

2010-04-18T17:00:00.000-07:00

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

2010-04-15T20:40:00.000-07:00

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

2010-04-14T13:25:00.000-07:00

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?

2010-04-08T20:40:00.000-07:00

baby clothes

2010-04-08T16:01:00.000-07:00

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

2010-04-04T19:59:00.000-07:00

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

2010-03-31T13:22:00.000-07:00

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

2010-03-30T19:32:00.000-07:00

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

2010-03-25T17:45:00.000-07:00

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

2010-03-21T18:32:00.000-07:00

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

2010-03-19T06:51:00.001-07:00

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

2010-03-11T18:09:00.000-08:00

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

2010-03-08T19:56:00.000-08:00

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

2010-03-08T19:43:00.000-08:00

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

2010-03-07T17:13:00.000-08:00

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

2010-03-07T17:08:00.000-08:00

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

2010-03-05T19:50:00.000-08:00

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

the great american road trip 2.0 - day 7

2010-03-05T19:08:00.000-08:00

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

2010-03-04T18:58:00.000-08:00

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

2010-03-03T18:44:00.000-08:00

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

2010-03-03T18:18:00.000-08:00

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

2010-03-03T16:15:00.000-08:00

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

2010-03-03T06:40:00.000-08:00

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

2010-03-02T14:16:00.000-08:00

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

2010-03-01T18:30:00.000-08:00

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

2010-02-28T19:44:00.000-08:00

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

2010-02-27T18:38:00.000-08:00

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

2010-02-24T17:45:00.000-08:00

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

2010-02-21T08:57:00.000-08:00

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

priorities

2010-02-19T08:22:00.000-08:00

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?

2010-02-15T21:38:00.000-08:00

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

2010-02-14T19:27:00.001-08:00

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

2010-02-11T07:49:00.000-08:00

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

2010-02-10T20:32:00.000-08:00

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

2010-02-05T19:39:00.000-08:00

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

2010-02-05T08:55:00.001-08:00

"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

2010-02-04T13:55:00.000-08:00

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

2010-02-03T14:23:00.000-08:00

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

2010-02-02T07:20:00.001-08:00

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

2010-02-01T14:42:00.000-08:00

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

2010-01-31T09:04:00.000-08:00

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

2010-01-26T15:21:00.001-08:00

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

2010-01-24T17:09:00.001-08:00

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

what i wish

2010-01-24T09:57:00.000-08:00

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

2010-01-12T09:57:00.000-08:00

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

2010-01-08T15:51:00.000-08:00

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

2010-01-04T12:16:00.000-08:00

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

2010-01-03T20:15:00.000-08:00

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

2010-01-02T20:44:00.000-08:00

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

2010-01-02T15:27:00.000-08:00

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.

what we found out

2009-12-29T20:42:00.000-08:00

I do realize that I left most of you hanging with the Punk/School situation.

Here's a quick update.

After Christmas break Punk and I had a long talk. At that point, he had spent the better part of the month doing everything in his power to "make a good situation for himself." And while both his father and I applauded the effort, we were not so certain that the life lessons he learned were great ones. In essence, this is what Punk took away from it:

"When people are nasty to you, it is your fault."
"If an adult says 'I don't like your personality' (OH yes she did), then you have a responsibility to change who you are."
"Even when you don't understand what you did wrong, tiptoe around the people that you seem to be pissing off just to make them happy."

I am not sure those are the type of things I want Punk to be taking from his elementary education.

However, in the interest of fair and honest coverage, I decided to ask around. I didn't want to be anybody's fool, and while I truly believe that he is a good kid, nobody's perfect, and I wanted to investigate before we made any real decisions.

After all, the current principal had assured us all the Punk had "Deep and serious social issues. That the entire staff was EXTREMELY worried about him." She made him sound like Columbine material - and if that were the case, something had to be done - NOW.

First stop was his former elementary principal. I stopped into her office, did not even have to introduce myself. She asked right away, "How is Punk? How does he like his new school? I really miss that kid."

What? MY kid? The future Unabomber? Seriously?

She went on to say that one of the most endearing traits about him is that everyone who knew him (and most people did) liked him. His teachers knew that if they put Punk in a group, the group would work together and get along - it's the kind of guy he is.
She went on to say that Punk was a highly gifted child, mentally, emotionally, and socially - a child with absolutely "NO social issues whatsoever" (an unprompted comment I might add). She continued to elaborate on the fact that he seemed to do well in any environment, was polite, courteous and appropriately funny.

When I shared some of his current issues at the new school, she looked almost sad and said, "Oh - I would hate to see Punk lose his fantastic sense of humor and become one of those people who forgets how to joke around just because he is trying to please somebody else."

OH
MY
GOD!

Far cry from "Punk, this goofing around persona you have just isn't working for you. Maybe you should try something else." (The last words his current principal spoke to him.)

Alright - so that was only one opinion right?
That's what I thought too.
So, in an effort to maintain Punk's self esteem, I took both he and Kooka back to the old school to wish their former teachers a Merry Christmas.

The reception was unreal.

As he walked down the hallway, kids came out of their rooms shouting his name, high fiving him, asking if he was coming back. Teachers shook his hand - not just HIS teacher, LOTS of teachers. They said they missed him. One class invited him to just come hang out for a while, while Kook and I walked to the other wing.

WTF?!! Does this sound like a kid with poor social skills? A kid who "looks for conflict"? A kid who I should be EXTREMELY worried about?!

Sooooooo - being the pessimist I am, I still wanted to know what was going on. I mean, Punk's troubles could not possibly be the result an overly defensive administrator going to any length at all to save face . . . could it?

Maybe the kids at this school are different. Maybe the parenting styles are not the same. Maybe Punk does not fit in with the kids at the new school - maybe it is that.

Which does not explain, why out of the 10 boys in his class, Punk has been invited to 5 birthday parties this year, 7 sleepovers, and who knows what else. It also does not explain what happened to my "socially deviant" son this afternoon.

As I was picking him up from yet another birthday party today, (a birthday party attended by kids from his NEW school) the birthday boy's mom approached me. "Oh," she said, "Brent just LOVES having Punk as a friend. He always said such good things about him, and when I met him myself today, I could see that they were all true. Punk is such a lovely child, an absolute delight. What a wonderful soul he is - thank you so much for letting him be here today."

Uhhhh - you're welcome.

But as she is gushing - another mom steps up and interrupts, "Are you Punk's mom? I am Erik's mom, and he is just dying to have Punk come over to play, he talks about him all of the time, and has been pestering me for weeks."

OK.

And you won't believe this - but as this mom is finishing up, Mom number THREE steps in to ask if I think HER son and Punk can play sometime, because Punk is (and I quote) "The kind of boy all mom's want their kids to hang out with."

Yeah - and when we get home - friend number 4 from new school wants to come over and play.

Where the hell is the principal now? Can I tape record this? Do I need to depose these women in her office?

Anyway - this is where we end up:

Punk and I had a long talk. I told him that I appreciate how hard he worked to make things better for himself, but that he deserved better than what he was getting from the adults around him. He deserves to be surrounded by people who believe in his innate goodness, not people who constantly question his personality.

A huge grin spread over his face.
"Mom," he said, "I just feel so good about myself now. I was starting to think that I really was a bad kid. That I was a troublemaker. I didn't even know what I had done, but I felt like everyone thought it, so it must be true. But when I saw my old teachers, and hear those things from my friend's mom's, I know who I am. I am a good person, and it feels really nice to hear THAT for a change."

I bet it does.

So I will say it again.

Punk is a great kid.
He has a beautiful heart and an amazing spirit.
He is loyal, peaceful and honest.
He believes in doing the right thing, even when it is difficult.

And right now, I am sickened by the people who tried to make me believe I was wrong about that.
Even more sickened that they tried to make HIM believe it.

hate to say "i told you so"

2009-12-27T08:58:00.000-08:00

Just for fun, I was reading about where all of the first families spent their Christmas holidays. I came across this little gem . . . none of it surprises me, especially the good parts:

Here’s a great question that was raised by a comment on our site: where have First Families traditionally spent Christmas?

It’s been noted that both Reagan and George W. Bush spent Christmas at the White House or Camp David, so that the agents protecting them could keep relatively normal schedules and be with their families on the holidays.

The Utopias, of course, are heading to Hawaii for Christmas, at great public expense flying Air Force One thousands of miles away on the taxpayer dime, and renting a $4,000 a night, giant mansion for them to play around in when the White House and Camp David are already bought and paid for by the public.

Their jetting off on an expensive taxpayer funded trip to Hawaii wouldn’t be quite so offensive if his family were actually still there… and since they can drag her family around on our dime too, why not head to Hawaii? It’s cold and dreary in Chicago right now, and not much better in DC. They probably believe that those Secret Service agents are so flattered to be in such an “unprecedented” and “historic” administration that they are glad to be away from their families during the holidays.

Besides, it’s been months since we’ve seen his glistening pecs and her fantastic arms!

What recession, right?

We honestly don’t know what the Clintons, George H. W. Bushes, Carters, Fords, Nixons, Johnsons, Kennedys, Eisenhowers, or Roosevelts did for Christmas, or where they spent it.

It might be a fun research project today and tomorrow to figure this out.

We never knew the Reagans decided to stay at the White House so they wouldn’t inconvenience the staff with a vacation during holidays…but it doesn’t surprise us at all that Reagan was decent and kind enough not to tear moms and dads away from their kids to do their duty when he didn’t need to.

And, frankly, it really doesn’t surprise us the Utopias gleefully abuse every perk afforded them. This is the woman who, after all, has been given everything she ever dreamed of and, yet, still asks “What are you getting me for Christmas? You should feel pressure” on national television.

Hope!

Change!

Me Me Me!

To be fair, I looked up the other Presidents as well. Most of them stayed in DC or Camp David to help their staff members stay close to their families. The Kennedy's the Bushes,the Eisenhowers, the Rooseveldt's the Reagans.

I am just glad that I was able to pull this off of somebody else's website - because I'd be tarred and feathered if I had written it myself.

bleak outlook

2009-12-24T09:00:00.001-08:00

Is this seriously how stupid people are?

Thank god somebody gave her a good answer.

fireflies

2009-12-19T19:08:00.000-08:00

This song is mommy and my favorite song. But I know the words better than she does. You should listen to it right now, I think you will like it.

Kooka

merry cheesemas

2009-12-18T06:54:00.001-08:00

It is one of our many many holiday traditions.

And if you've ever tasted one - consider yourself lucky. Just how lucky, I didn't even realize until this year.

Of course I am talking about CHEESBALLS!

They have been a Christmas tradition since I was a 4th grader, and it is one that both Punk and Kooka say they want to share with their own kids someday.

There is much love and time and mess that goes into our Christmas concoctions. Kooka loves the grating and squishing. Punk loves the grating, squishing and nibbling. I love everyone being together laughing and happy. Everybody wins.

Well, not everybody.

I was informed this year, that due to our limited supply of cheesey goodness, a person must be deemed "cheesball worthy" to receive one. Punk and Kooka claim it's an honor to make the list.

Qualifications include: being a blood relative (DNA samples required), or being in general someone who has made no attempt whatsoever to piss off Punk or Kooka throughout the entire year. It helps if you have lobbied for this cheeseball throughout the past twelve months by sucking up, telling them how smart they are, giving them candy, piggy back rides, or reading long stories to them.

If you don't fall into one of those categories you better get working on next year. Our freezer full of cheese is dwindling.

The two best parts - squishing and nibbling.

christmas program

2009-12-18T06:40:00.000-08:00

Here are the long awaited photos of the Christmas program.

Punk was a nearly perfect Joseph in his camoflauge robe and pillowcase do-rag. He stood in front of the church smiling dutifully at the baby Jesus for over a half-an-hour. Only occasionally did he channel his inner Cher by flipping said pillowcase over one shoulder, then the other. Though neither he, nor his new wife could have been too enamored with the baby, since they left him sitting alone in the manger as they exited the church.

Kooka was a lovely little something-or-other. She sang beautifully, but I am still not sure what exactly it is that she was supposed to be. All I know is that I was less worried last year, when she was a sheep. This time around she looked like she was going to be sold to the highest bidder.

slacker

2009-12-12T08:24:00.001-08:00

My aunt with the Texas accent and no snow to shovel, recently brought to my attention, that I am doing a rather crappy job of updating this blog lately.

Therfore I feel compelled to post something - even if it is not all that interesting.

Our week started out with a snowstorm. Of course the professor was out of town - he's always conveniently out of town when it snows. And within days someone invariably asks him how he's liking Minnesota, and he says, "I don't understand why everybody says the winters are so hard . . .we have WET snow out east . . ."

Wet schmet.

Our dry snow was plenty challenge for Punk and Kooka and I. Thankfully I had a headmaster's holiday on the day of the storm, and didn't have to go to school. It took the three of us FIVE HOURS to shovel the driveway. Granted, we had two pair of decent gloves and three $4.99 shovels between us - but STILL. We just managed to get it cleared out when the snowplow came through and covered us up again. Somehow, Punk and I mustered enough energy to clear it off so the professor to pull his van in when he returned from the airport.

And right now, Punk and Kook are working on the world's biggest snowfort in our yard. Gotta go.

getting married

2009-12-05T19:10:00.000-08:00

Somebody in our family is getting hitched next weekend.
It isn't me.

It is Punk.

He's becoming a father as well.

The only reason I am not alarmed is because the whole thing happened through immaculate conception.

If you want to catch Punk as Joseph next Sunday - make sure you come to the 10:45 service at our church.

If there is any typecasting going on, Kooka will undoubtedly be portraying one of the census workers.

grinch

2009-12-01T17:24:00.000-08:00

Kooka and I have never been Obama fans anyway, but now that he is the "Grinch who stole Charlie Brown's Christmas" - we are even more disgusted. (I won't even mention what Punk had to say.)

thankful

2009-11-26T09:16:00.000-08:00

The past year has been difficult for all of us, but we also have much to be thankful for.

No matter what difficulties have come our way, we are lucky and we know it.

So last night we went to help prepare a Thanksgiving meal for the homeless. We helped peel and chop 1000 pounds of potatoes. Today, the professor and I are going back to help serve, while Punk and Kooka are in Wisconsin.

And even though it is pretty hard to be without your kids on Thanksgiving, as long as they keep growing into the kind of people who can peel vegetables until midnight to help another human being - I will always have something to be thankful for.

difficult people

2009-11-23T13:49:00.000-08:00

Punk is learning a hard lesson at school.

There are difficult people in this world - people who cannot accept responsibility for their own culpability in certain situations, people who genuinely feel that they are smarter than others, people who will judge you just to make their own agendas seem valid.

And some of those people are not students.

And to be clear - it is not his teacher either. Punk loves his teacher. We all do.

I actually had a full length post written here - a full explanation about Punk's trials at his new school. But I have decided that the ramifications of printing the truth may have consequences for my younger child, who as of this writing is still at the school. (It isn't her teacher either - we absolutely adore her).

So I am moving this post to the private blog - and if anybody really wants to know what's going on - feel free to ask.

new gig

2009-11-20T20:26:00.000-08:00

Punk got his first commercial gig, and the retailers seem to love his style, because they keep commenting on the cool logo.

He drew the labels for the S.O.S. soap sack, which you can now buy at the local co-op and at Ooh-La-La.

They are pretty handy little devices, especially if you like to buy the homemade soap like we do, but our favorite part of the whole thing, is the great cartoon.

christmas bells

2009-11-20T20:21:00.000-08:00

Tonight we went to ring the red kettle bell at the mall. We were only there for two hours, but Punk and Kooka did a great job, and I think they pulled in over 200 bucks.

On another note - both kids went to see Santa today, and were surprised/freaked out when he said "Kooka, you have been a really good girl this year, but I need you to pick up those doll clothes that are always laying on the floor. And Punk, you are such a great kid, and things have been tough in your school, so just keep listening to your mom and dad."

Even I was amazed.

punk's poem

2009-11-17T06:35:00.000-08:00

It has no title, but I think it is beautifully Punk, here is the start of his winter poem assignment:

As winter dawns near,
the critters flee from the icy layer of cold that muffles fall.
It's as if the animals are being pursued by a wave of snow.
Some birds fly away.
Some critters dig to make an underground home.
Some adapt and change to fit into winter.
Some,
fall fast asleep.
The whisper of winter chases animals into their warm shelters.

help

2009-11-16T07:19:00.000-08:00

I don't know who these girls are, and my only hope is that they don't have parents like the balloon boy, or a father like Joe Jackson. I hope that they are doing this of their own free will, because they don't look terribly happy about it - but damn they are good!

Why doesn't Disney hire kids like this instead of kids they have to teach to sing?

update

2009-11-11T11:56:00.000-08:00

It's been a while since the last post, but time is precious, so here is a quick list of our life right now.

* Dance show on Wednesday night. Two hockey players, one soccer super-star, and a concert violinist dancing to my hip hop choreography. (Crazily - they look amazing together)
* Kooka is reading Matilda by Roald Dahl
* Punk is reading Al Capone Does My Shirts by Gennifer Choldenko
* Kooka has been busy for weeks on her inventions - the latest of which is a go-kart.
* My little brother's birthday is Saturday
* Both kids wrote out Christmas lists already, and are wondering why we don't have a tree up yet.
* Volunteering on Thanksgiving. Hopefully the kids will get to help out a few days before.
*Went to see the Director's play last weekend. Scared the bejesus out of everybody. Guess who's still sleeping with the light on . . .
* Working on a Flash Mob, and can't say any more about it. Shhhhhhhhh

more from the "are you freaking KIDDING me?!" dept.

2009-11-04T20:21:00.000-08:00

The class bully has not stopped. In fact, Punk has suffered at least 3 more assaults since the last writing.

We have been told that "there is no such thing as a bully" and that perhaps Punk has brought this on himself by "talking to this child" or "sitting at the same table." Everyone involved agrees that Punk has really done nothing wrong, but since he has no "special needs" - he needs to be the bigger person. He is supposed to understand that certain people have issues - and if their issues cause him physical scarring or even brain damage - well that is the way of the world - or at least the way of this particular school.

Ok.

Whatever.

That's not even the point today.

Today's file includes this little gem:

After another "difficult" child was stealing from Punk and his friends, Punk did exactly what his father and I asked him to do - he confronted the situation verbally. The kid then began clawing at Punk and pulling on his clothes. So Punk moved to plan B (also dished out by his fed-up parents) which was to physically extricate himself from the situation. We told him to put his hands out and shove, push, whatever you call it, to regain his physical space and safety.

According to his report - he did not even do what we asked. He turned and brushed the kid off of him. Said child fell to the ground and began complaining that Punk shoved him.

Good thing Punk is a near Buddhist. The kid is no saint - he is a bit of a goofball, and an incredible smart-alec when the occasion calls. But anyone who has met him knows that he is a pacifist. The kid won't even swat mosquitoes. He is not a hitter - which is sort of a shame at this point.

So tonight, Punk recalls his trip to the principal's office for me. "Mom," he says, "It's almost funny at this point, because the principal looks at the other kid and says, 'YOU stop clawing people,' then turns to me and says, 'and YOU quit shoving!' Like it is MY fault I had to pry this kids' nails off of my skin."

He actually laughs out loud when he says, "Oh no mom - you didn't hear the best part yet. Best part is when the teacher said, 'You know Punk if you are hitting people we will have to remove you from school.'"

Say it with me folks . . . WTF????!!!!!

Yeah - Punk's words were "Are you FREAKING KIDDING ME?! I have been pummelled in the face for two months, and the ONE time I actually take my parent's advice and protect myself, I am threatened with suspension?! What the . . . ?"

And if he had let the F word slip out, I could not possibly have blamed him.

halloween

2009-11-01T11:20:00.000-08:00

In case you have never been to our house at Halloween - your loss.

We go all out - Punk and Kooka especially.

This was just during trick or treating - the party afterward was even MORE amazing.

groceries

2009-10-23T15:16:00.000-07:00

I am obviously shopping at the wrong grocery store.

Because most of this happens when I go to Cub Foods - but not nearly as much confetti.

But still - this video makes me incredibly happy.

Oh - and in case you're wondering - my role is usually the hot girl in the leather jacket - and yes, my legs do get really tired from climbing on top of the frozen foods containers.

good company

2009-10-21T20:04:00.001-07:00

Some kids have a watch dog.
Some have a kitten to curl up in their lap.
Not my kid.
Punk has been sick for 5 days, out of school for 3, and Walter the toad has taken very good care of him.

the worst feeling ever

2009-10-14T18:47:00.000-07:00

As much as I hate to get on an airplane tomorrow, what I hate even worse, was the fact, that for about 30 minutes tonight, I thought my child was lost (or worse - yes worse) in the woods.

He was on a school trip, and in case you are wondering - has been pulled from such school, until somebody - anybody, will tell us why the hell this happened - and what (if anything) they'll do to keep it from happening again.

I am exhausted from crying, Punk is not doing much better. He is OK, and the story is too long to explain here . . .but I will say this much:

The girl who has hit him in the face no less than 4 times this year, is still in his class despite their "so called" zero tolerance policy on violence. Apparently she gets an exception to beating the $#!t out of her classmates because she is "special needs" (Punk is not the only one who has been hit by her). And I am pretty sure that her "special need" is that she needs a "special kick in the ass" - but I digress . . .

First we have the issue with the class bully, and now nobody knew where our kid was for 45 minutes in the woods at dusk.

To be continued . . .

travel

2009-10-11T20:11:00.001-07:00

Traveling to Florida. But not for a good reason. Somebody we love is gone.

I didn't get to know him long enough, but I know that he serenaded me in pizza parlor parking lot, tackled me on accident, and taught the professor to make amazing jelly pancakes.

We are all sad this week.

math

2009-10-08T07:37:00.000-07:00

OK - so we are into the part of the school year where math drills are coming home in the backpacks. I, by the way, happen to be totally cool with that. It's a worthwhile endeavor. If Mrs. Fleischer hadn't made me memorize my times tables I would still be counting 7x6 on my fingers.

But Punk concerns me a bit.

His new school allows for "creative answers." Again - I am totally down with giving credit for somebody who thinks outside of the box . . . but . . . in this class you can actually get credit for coming up with a fantastic theory and still getting a completely wrong answer.

And this is why I am worried:

Last year, Punk is taking a big math test - not his first - wasn't like he'd never done it before, so I can't blame naivete'. The question goes something like this:

It takes 1 roll of paper to print 15,000 ten dollar bills. Each ream of paper weighs 26 pounds. You have 1,000,000 in the bank, and would like to withdraw it. The trouble is that your breifcase will only hold 11 pounds at a time. It takes 1 hour to get back and forth between your house and the bank. How much money can you fit into your briefcase at once, and how many hours will it take to make the withdrawl?

For a moment let's ignore the fact, that even M.I.T. doesn't even assign problems this convoluted, and take at face value that most fourth graders are going to attempt a logical response.

Not my kid.

His answer goes something like this:

"Is it a weekday? Because if it is - who cares - I'll just come back tomorrow, I'm in no hurry. Nothing I want costs more than a hundred bucks, and I know that much will fit. Besides, one briefcase full of cash should be enough for anybody. Is anybody really that greedy? If you have that much money you should just share it - why bother coming back at all? And my mom always says your money is safer in the bank anyway."

This is followed by a cartoon of a man with an overflowing breifcase being admonished by an angry mob.

So not only did he make no attempt to actually solve the problem - he wrote down NO numbers whatsoever, dragged my name into his communist response . . . and still got half credit!

And THAT my friends is why I have math phobia this year

true dat

2009-10-07T11:14:00.000-07:00

jib jab

2009-10-06T16:13:00.001-07:00

We can never resist - no matter how stupid we make ourselves look. Aside from my mouth being crooked, I think we look pretty fab - especially the Frankenstein - dang!

Try JibJab Sendables® eCards today!

new school

2009-09-23T11:05:00.000-07:00

We miss homeschooling.

I thought this new school would be a bit more like homeschooling, and we have not given up on it yet, but yesterday neither kid could tell me a thing they learned (though I am sure they did - their teachers are excellent) - and Punk's new friend was drawing "I hate South Iraq cartoons on our chalkboard . . . so I am not yet convinced this is the place for us either.

bad mother

2009-09-19T13:36:00.000-07:00

If you haven't seen Mary Poppins yet - you absolutely must. I took the kids (and 40 students) to the cities last week to catch one of the last shows.

Kooka could not wait to don her own Mary Poppins outfit for the occasion. She got so many compliments from total strangers as we walked downtown . . . including these guys.

Insane Clown Posse was playing at a nearby club, and their fans were all over the place. They do look creepy - especially if scary clowns freak you out (aka - Punk), but they did break character when Kooka walked by. "Ohhh my gosh - she is sooooo cute!" they said. Kooka responded with a quick "thank you."

But I just couldn't let the moment pass - sweet little Mary Poppins chillin' with ICP . . . it was too much to resist - too weird. Hope this doesn't make me a bad mother.

before and after

2009-09-16T12:38:00.000-07:00

Let me be the first to admit that I went overboard . . .

. . .like freakishyly, frighteningly Jon-Bennet overboard.

But Kooka wanted a "big" makeover last weekend. (Emphasis on BIG)

The best part is that somehow she theorized on her own that you are supposed to make a "frowny face" in your "before" picture, so that no matter what happens your "after" picture looks better.

BEFORE

AFTER

jealous

2009-09-16T12:24:00.000-07:00

It is not too often that I am jealous . . . but now is one of those times. I really really really wish that I had been the one to dream up this choreography:

one of these days

2009-09-10T21:27:00.000-07:00

I have Christina to thank for getting THIS little gem in my head.

If you listen to this once - just ONCE, you will be doing the chicken dance all day, and have this insane song running through your head.

Worst part is - I can't even pronounce the words. . . so I end up running around sounding like a mentally deficient toddler singing along to Japanese Sesamee Street.

One of these days - I will pay her back.

wow

2009-09-10T20:44:00.001-07:00

Punk entered this contest in the second grade. It was only by googling his name today that we found out he'd actually won something.

Well, actually, he didn't win anything but respect . . . but still, landing in the top 20 out of 800 is pretty amazing. Even more amazing when the entrants are 6-14 years old . . . even more amazing when he is the youngest kid to even make the list.

His drawing is pure Punk - but his essay was not too shabby either . . .

Made us all feel pretty good today.

Check it out here:

PUNK'S CONTEST

first day - no jitters

2009-09-08T19:03:00.000-07:00

New shoes, new clothes, new school - no problem.
Both Punk and Kooka gave their new school two thumbs up.
Punk's favorite part was how easy it was to make new friends.
Kooka agreed - but also really liked that they get to eat lunch in their classrooms.

boycotting target

2009-09-07T14:35:00.000-07:00

Had to stop at Target for a few last minute school supplies - because even though both kids had gym shoes, what they didn't have was any actual shoes to wear to school - which means Punk would show up barefoot, with his hair in a fauxhawk, smelling slightly of swamp. Not exactly the kind of first impression we need to make in a new school - and at least I can DO something about the barefoot part.

So I go to check out tops for Kooka - size 6x mind you. I have one in my hand, when I take a closer look at the sign - "Fun and Flirty."

Seriously?

Flirty?

In second grade?

Does that need to be part of their already cheapening advertising campaign? . . . "Hey six year olds - it's fall, time for phonics class, dodgeball and hooking up! What better way to catch that special someone's eye at recess, than with our fun and flirty ensembles. Add a pair of smokin' hot low rise jeans and jailbait lip gloss - and you'll never have to sit alone at lunch again."

In case you're wondering -
no, I did not buy them -
purely out of principal.
Which is too bad - because they were cute.

it's official

2009-09-04T08:01:00.000-07:00

So I am teaching my class the other day - Dance 1 to be exact - and we are doing the whole "get to know you" stuff. The students fill out a little sheet and we go around and guess who said what - blah blah blah.

So I get to the Russian kid - who speaks 5 different languages (YEAH - FIVE), and this gets the whole room talking, and I realize that aside from me - everyone in the room is fluent in no less than THREE languages. And we're talking HARD ones - French, Madarin, Russian, Korean.

Fantastic.

I am the teacher, and officially the dumbest person in the class.

one teensy problem

2009-08-31T20:45:00.001-07:00

I will post pictures or video or something of the new house soon.

For the most part, I am in love with this place. Big backyard, everybody's bedroom on the same level, finished laundry room, mature trees, space for dancing in the basement - all things I didn't even know I loved until I didn't have it. But there is always something - always some little hook - that isn't quite right, and I discovered it today.

I borrowed a mower, so I could tackle the 4-inches of grass that were threatening to engulf the house. About ten minutes into it, my dream home became less dreamy.

Toads.

The first two didn't bother me - they were small, and crouched down pretty low to avoid being hit on the second pass with the mower. But after the 12th one, I just screamed. Screamed so loud that Punk and Kooka came running over to see if I was OK.

It was like a plague.

These things were all over the place - big ones - trying to crawl back under the mower - which I was now terrified to move - lest we all be sprayed with copious amounts of amphibian guts.

There are TWO gianormous problems with toads.

ONE: The only things that eat them are owls - which are in short supply around here, SNAKES - which I can do without thanks, and other, bigger toads. I can't win this one. No toads means there must be snakes - or giant toads in the yard. But the other option is having the little ones try to burrow into my keens as I mow. Neither is acceptable to me.

TWO: Even if the mower did manage to quietly and cleanly obliterate the disgusting little gnomes, toads happen to be Punk's very most absolute favorite animal on the planet. So there is a fair amount of guilt associated with this issue. I guess for me it would be the equivalent of having Punk come in after a day of yardwork and say "Hey mom, you might not wanna go outside for a while. I think I accidentally plowed over half-a-dozen bottlenosed dolphins out there." The trauma would be more than I could take.
So what am I supposed to do? If I call Punk to get them out of my way, he goes into rescue mode immediately. As I type - there are SIX of them housed in his bedroom. SIX!
At the going rate for crickets - we are now into $350 a year to feed these fricking things! FEED THEM!!! My GOD - why didn't the mower just do it's job?!

Eventually, the professor took pity on me, and stopped moving furniture long enough to finish the backyard.

I am seriously considering buying an owl.

whew

2009-08-31T11:57:00.000-07:00

The new house feels like home. It felt like that from the moment we walked in.

Both kids slept in their own rooms last night - no arguments, no worries.

We still have a lot of work to do - and I need to be in class tomorrow - but things are finally coming together.

We have wonderful neighbors - and two of our favorite girls came over to play today.

Come visit us soon.

moving

2009-08-21T08:19:00.000-07:00

We are moving - again. This time we are happy about it.

Might be quiet here for a while until we get settled.

We've only moved a few things.

The first two things Punk brought over were his robot dinosaur - and the grenade.

Thanks Pa.

quote of the week

2009-08-18T21:20:00.000-07:00

.
.
.
"Hey Pa - thanks for the grenade!"

Punk -
upon receiving real military weapons from his grandfather

school supplies

2009-08-16T14:19:00.000-07:00

Much to everyone's disappointment, it is almost time to shop for school supplies.

This used to be easy - a new notebook, and some sharpened pencils and we were done. Maybe some new markers for good measure . . . but we didn't need much else.

That is, until Kooka decided to take a swing at public school - last year's supplies for first grade alone (not counting clothes) set us back over $65. SIXTY-FIVE dollars! Sixty-five bucks worth of glue sticks, and tissues, and pencils, and dry-erase pens, and God-knows what else.

This year, both kids are going to a new charter school. Not that they didn't good opportunites last year - it was an important experience for both of them. Still, we think this school will be the next best thing to homeschooling.

But we haven't received our school supplies list yet. Based on what I know, it will likely be something like "a handful of river pebbles, one feather, and organic wood pulp so they can make their own paper."

Regardless - second grade should cost us less than first.