Moms Say The Darndest Things

My aviation-obsessed son David and his younger siblings recently went on a paper-airplane-making binge. So now there are approximately 67 paper airplanes in my living room. This afternoon I caught Brian about to filch some of my printer paper in order to make yet more flying machines, and I snapped, "Stop it! This paper doesn't grow on trees, you know!"

Yet another time when you've got to wonder why I'm allowed to homeschool my children...

Remember The...What?

Yesterday I was assigning Brian a page in his American History workbook (this thing here, for 3rd - 5th grades) and I quickly read the assignment first. It was 4 or 5 easy paragraphs on the history of Texas. And I didn't know it. Any of it. Texas belonged to Mexico? Texas was its own independent country at one time? Our taking Texas into the Union precipitated a war with Mexico? Well, knock me over with a feather...

Have I mentioned that I took AP American History in high school? And that I earned a BA in history at a prestigious university? Yeah. Pretty scary, huh?

Homeschooling - it's not just for kids anymore.

Living History

This little tidbit is for all you homeschoolers out there, who I am sure have visited just as many living history museums as our family has. Have I mentioned that we went to Plimouth Plantation at least 3 times during the year we spent in New England, and Sturbridge Village twice? I won't even bother to recount the joyful time we had last year, when we dragged Anna with us to visit Jamestown. Suffice it to say, listening to 50-year-old history nuts dressed in leather jerkins and funny hats tell us how to clean a hunting rifle was not her idea of a fun day. And the 3 and a half hours in the van with her younger siblings? It made the Amistad look like a joy ride. (Thankfully, I was in the other van with Theo.)

My point being, Larry and I are living history nuts; and the children have been made to suffer accordingly.

Oh, and that Imperfect Parent voting thing? I guess people can vote each and every day through the 11th. And, gee, I've never won anything before. All those bloggy giveaways and contests? Nada. So, um, if you wouldn't mind going here again....

How Sharper Than A Serpent's Tooth...

A migraine day today, and I didn't realize it soon enough to take my wonderful drugs; I feared being up all night if I took the megadose of caffeine in the late afternoon. In retrospect, that was stupid reasoning; but migraines make my brain foggy. So I didn't get much done today except to sit around and wonder whether we have to worry about Tootsie Farklepants taking over the world. She added her hilarious 2 cents to the bra discussion and then sent (sent? nay, she ordered) her many loyal readers over here to check out my advice as well. Back atcha, baby!

I don't know what that last sentence meant. It sounded right, though.

I was conscious enough, despite the migraine-fogginess, to be aware of intercepting death glares at regular intervals today. You see, I made the mistake of being kind and loving on Sunday evening and reassuring Anna that she could indeed get her schoolwork done (albeit badly) in time to go to work camp next week. She took me at my word and has been blazing through her assignments like a house afire. Atta girl! Don't give up! Never say die!

You would think she would be grateful for my encouragement, right? Ah, but no! You have forgotten what it is to dwell in that strange space known as the mind of a teen girl. (And, believe me, that forgetting? It is a good thing.) Anna is angry at me because I can't help her with her school work fast enough (in fact, I managed to doze off on the couch in the middle of helping Anna with her geometry today, while Susie climbed all over me - it felt sort of good, like a cheap-o massage), and she is in a rush, gosh darn it, which certainly isn't her fault (oddly enough, nothing is); and what was I thinking scheduling a dental appointment (several weeks ago) for this Thursday anyway?

I don't know what I expected. Some grateful tears, maybe? A "Thank you, Mommy, for not giving up on me..." We all have our fantasies, don't we? Granted, mine are perhaps a tad more unrealistic than other people's. But that's because reality is for people who don't have to deal with a self-absorbed teenager.

Anna is also annoyed that I am planning to show up (with younger siblings in tow) at the farewell dinner for the workcampers on Saturday. Families were invited, of course. And, its happening to be my birthday, the timing couldn't be better. No cooking or clean-up to worry about - now that's a party! I think I'll have us all wear funny birthday hats and bring some of those silly noisemakers you hand out at kids' parties. Anna will like that.