1. I refer to my mother as “Martha Stewart’s one-armed sister” because she is able to make all things beautiful and she is doing it with one less appendage.

2. She usually helps me out when I entertain. While we are in the planning stage she will float an idea with the reassurance, “It is so simple!” For 35 years this fooled me.

3. Now I know I should question the certainty on the simplicity of a thing from someone with one arm. I think she has transcended simplicity. If I had one arm tying my shoe would be complicated. It is for my mom too, but she doesn’t know it.

We are alive.

I have been quite busy chasing around the Bean who from one day to the next is either a bathroom genius or something not so brilliant…It takes a lot of energy to maintain constant enthusiasm and encouragement. I can’t even count the public restrooms where I have helped her perch her teeny buns and then hoisted her up to wash her pudgy mitts.

The man is out of state – bad manners indeed.

My colleagues have been quite busy. Never fear, I have been taking notes and will report their activities soon.

My Moms Group had our Christmas Brunch today which means I am off the clock for 5 blessed weeks. OK, I still have administrative stuff, but no schlepping the homeschoolers across town and getting behind in school.

My sister wrote me a beautiful e-mail the other day and I still haven’t responded. I got all teary and then someone started something on fire or started bleeding and I had to take care of it and haven’t been back online since.

Saturday Paul and I celebrate 12 years of marriage. And baby, we ARE going to celebrate even if it is a romantic dinner with Christopher. (The girls are having a sleepover at their cousin’s – hi Meg!) I am working on arrangements for the boy.

I miss my husband.

It is getting late and I feel like I have been stuck under something large for days. This is what comes from protracted conversations with soaked two year olds at two in the morning when one’s husband is out of town.

I have given up coffee…somewhat. I think this blog was entirely powered by caffeine.

Will be back soon.

1. I don’t have a favorite color, but in clothing, pink is my signature color. When someone compliments me I will say, archly, “Well pink IS my signature color.” It’s such a ridiculous thing to say it always gets a laugh. I mean, who has a signature color? It’s silly, but I do.

2. I like clothing. I always notice and appreciate someone with a sense of style but I get a little tired shopping and slightly overwhelmed. I want someone to dress me, shop, that is. I am willing to actually put the garments on myself.

3. When I do shop – all you mothers know what’s coming – I get distracted by sales on clothing for the kids and Paul. Sad, but true…

“Mom, my scared meter is going high from this movie!”

This was C. Riley regarding an educational video on amphibians. There were snippets from horror movies from the 20’s. WHAT were they thinking! All three of my kids are scared and threatening nightmares.

When Einstein’s Protege is scared…!

School started a little late today for a variety of reasons. Within seconds of getting upstairs one of the big kids’ heads started spinning and the other began spitting blood and I thought “Not gonna do it” in my best mental impression of Dana Carvey as George Bush the First.

I sat the kids down and we made a list of all the things that had happened in our school. Let me tell you, that was some list. This immediately quieted them. We recorded: ( and we weren’t just talking about the student body)

yelling
throwing things
disobedience
destruction
hard work
interruptions
kind words
screaming
disrespect
apologies
hand raising
pushing
laughter
gentleness
messes
hatred
respect
boredom
forgiveness
surprises
learning
distractions
inattention
treats

Once we compiled that we voted on the things we wanted from now on.

We elected:

hard work
apologies
hand raising
laughter
gentleness
respect
forgiveness
surprises
learning
treats

At this point we were really feeling good. The votes were unanimous and this was sounding like SOME school. And then Christopher bounced on the couch and my cup of coffee spilled all over me and the list.

It was perfect. That was what I told myself as I got up and went downstairs to throw my clothing in the wash, change and mop up the list and the book I had used to support it.

The kids trailed after me, Christopher apologizing copiously. I told them to head back upstairs and wipe up anything that had spilled on the couch.

It was quiet while I took care of my end of things and as I headed upstairs I congratulated myself on responding without blowing my top. Then I saw Christopher reading on the couch that had not been wiped up and flew to his side.

I managed not to yell, but my tone was quietly intense. He started to wipe up the mess and say, “You are scaring me.”

“No,” I said. “we aren’t going to do this. You made a big mess. I did not freak out. I asked you to clean something up and you did not obey but chose to read a book. I am not yelling. You are fine.”

He agreed he was.

We settled back onto the couch and made another list. This one was titled “What we are willing to do to have” with a big arrow pointing to the things we want in our school.

We will: (we knew we were looking for verbs because they are action words)

obey
concentrate
stand firm in faith (this from C. !)
do everything in love
respect each other
forgive
persevere
encourage each other
think of others
be gentle
be kind
make requests

All of these were their contributions except the last.

Then we talked about my choice to stay home with and teach them and that I had other options. We have already talked about their choices, but reviewed them. They were clear that they wanted me to stay home and continue to teach them. I told them it was a privilege to attend our school and if they were unwilling to be the way we had decided we needed to be in order to to have school we wanted, then they couldn’t come to it. Instead they would go to their rooms with their assignments and do them on their own. This was shocking but they agreed to it.

Tomorrow we are all going to write out our declarations and hang them on the wall.

It only makes sense to articulate what we want and then figure out what it is going to take to get it. This is our plumb line. If our behavior or attitudes don’t measure up to what we say we want then we can change them.

I am 35 and just learning this.

I am working really hard to help my kids learn this sooner.