photos from a new perspective

I came to the conclusion recently that I have a bit of an obsession with taking photos of the kids looking up. Not just any photo pose, mind you, but one where I am underneath and taking a shot straight up the nostrils.

It's probably not a "proper" pose, but it intrigues me. There's something about little kids and their fascination with anything up high: trees, planes, clouds. They look up all the time! Call me weird but I love it. I probably have three dozen photos just like these.

It's okay, I know I'm weird. Now when you see me worming around on the ground with a camera, at least you'll know why I'm down there!

play-doh redeems itself

If you're like me and have ever thought you loved Play-Doh and then experienced the joys of a child smearing Play-Doh all over the carpet and it never coming off again, you're probably already suspicious. We were in Target last weekend looking for something.... now I can't even remember what. You know how that memory just melts away with each kid you have, and I've got four. Anyhow, of course we wound up in the toy section and of course a bunch of stuff was on clearance and of course the kids all had money left over after Christmas because they were smart and spent *our* money on gifts and saved theirs. Because they really needed new toys a week after getting like a zillion of them. Two years later they'd finally picked out the toys they were going to buy, when I spotted something that gave me pause.

Yes, it was the dreaded Play-Doh. Play-Doh like I have cleaned up a million times and swore we were finished with. But this Play-Doh came with letter stampers! This elevated it out of toy status and into the realms of school necessity. Plus it was on clearance at 50% off and you know what a cheapskate...err, bargain hunter I am. The Play-Doh came home with us under strict admonishments that it would live in the school closet and only be used by Coral for letter practice. I figured we had about a 10% chance of abiding by those rules for more than a day.

School was back in session on Tuesday and after forging through the kids' PE classes and other bookwork, we finally got to open the Play-Doh and try it out. I figured it would be best utilized for spelling out key sight words in Coral's kindergarten readers. The set is actually called Cookie Monster's Letter Lunch, and I envisioned her stamping out the letters to create the words, and then feeding them to Cookie Monster. The added bonus that he "poops" them out the back of his body would leave her in sheer delight; what is a four-year-old's obsession with poop, anyway?

I was right, she loves it. Every day this week she made "school soup" or "I have soup" to go along with her readers, and every day she was in hysterics feeding the words to Cookie Monster and watching them tumble out the other end. She's practicing letter recognition, sight reading, and spelling along with developing her fine motor skills. I may have new respect for Play-Doh.

Now if it winds up ground into the rug we can call it art.

out with the old, in with the new (sort of)

The blog header is new, although Hurricane Ranch has been around for 12 years. You know, back when I still had 3 seconds to draw stuff. The kids aren't new, although they seem to keep multiplying as the years go by.

They also keep getting bigger in spite of my protests. I keep swearing we're going to stop buying groceries because all they do is eat them. Hard to believe Ibis is actually two years younger than Alexei; pretty soon those two will be taller than me.

Now that I think about it, that may come in handy. Here's to a new year full of adventures!

baby it's cold outside!

Notice how I always perk up and come blog when it's cold out? Well, it's cold out. Hasn't been cold in a good....[checking blog list and seeing when I was last active] 10 months or so. This is cold for real, people! Like the new little dog was shivering. Inside. In our house where we're living. In it! Shivering from the cold! Granted it's half chihuahua and Mexico isn't known for its snow, but come on! The dog is now wearing a sweater. I can't decide if he looks hilarious or ridiculous, but more importantly I'm wondering why I don't own a sweater.

Wow Mommy, this is awesome!

It was back to the old school grindstone this morning, complicated by the blustery cold and the fact that not only had we not worn jackets in the past 10 months, but that a couple of kids had grown so much in the past 10 months that said jackets, procured through a fifteen-minute search laced with colorful muttered-under-the-breath words, no longer fit. I was feeling rather resourceful and smug when I finally found a jacket (wait, or is it coat? Am I qualified to know the difference?) left over from the days of Alexei's toddlerhood years ago. I'm pretty sure he wore it exactly never because he, too, lived in Florida at the time and it was one of those ten months out of the year where we sweat to death instead of blog about how cold we are.

Tuesdays mean Creative Corner (aka toddler and preschool P.E.) at 10am, a mad dash home to squeeze in an hour of school and a quick lunch, and another sprint back to catch homeschool P.E. at 1pm. In other words, sheer mayhem. This was the first time this school year that the madness was encumbered by cold. Do you have any idea how long it takes to wrangle a two and four-year-old into warm clothes? Or how much Florida-bred grade schoolers whine and complain at the thought of donning long sleeves and socks? Apparently neither do I. I am chronically early to everything we do, but not today! We were *almost* late.

Anyway, back to the special jacket I had lovingly, caringly saved for years so Hobie could be warm and snug on this momentous day. We forged on to the Creative Corner class in the morning and I got the kids all unraveled and settled in the gym for playtime. Hobie ran off to play with blocks before I had a chance to remove his jacket, but came back in time for the class to begin. I nabbed a sleeve and pulled and off came the jacket, along with a hailstorm of black vinyl. It would seem that years of baking in the garage during Florida summers had turned the jacket's innards to flakes. We only managed to shed a few handfuls on the gym floor right there in front of everybody. I think I had a flashback to being laughed at in 7th grade in my brother's old worn out leather jacket. Alas, the jacket had to be reapplied after class and we made the trudge of shame back to the car, a trail of vinyl confetti following in our wake.

Wait, is this a hand-me-down??

Fast forward past Creative Corner, past school and lunch and almost being late for homeschool PE with Hobie now sporting last year's fleece pullover. We're finally home and in for the day and I get the brilliant idea to throw the jacket in the washing machine to see if the vinyl liner won't just come right off. I'm an awesome, frugal mom and this hand-me-down won't get the best of me. As a matter of fact, it worked like a charm! Might need a new washing machine now, and for a few minutes I thought the hubby might stop speaking to me, but the jacket's inside was stripped completely clean.

So stripped, in fact, that getting the now-vinyl-less jacket on and off would be physically impossible on a two-year-old. Guess who's getting a new jacket tomorrow!

Portrait of a Homeschool Kid

Many misconceptions abound regarding homeschool kids. As a homeschool family we have heard them all : the kids aren't socialized. They aren't educated enough. They aren't exposed to the real world. They miss out on the opportunities to x, y, and z. All negative opinions from those who have never been there and have no idea what being a homeschool kid actually means. Most of us weren't homeschooled as kids (I wasn't) so our "reliable" source of information on the topic hails from television news stories notorious for sensationalism and one-sidedness. Six years ago we decided to use our own brains and parental intuition to decide what was right for our children, and we've never regretted it!

What biggest thing does homeschooling offer that traditional schooling does not? Time. Plain and simple, it offers us the time we need to pursue whatever the kids want. There is no hour wasted on the school bus or in the lunch line. No time spent sitting in a classroom twiddling thumbs or getting into mischief as a math lesson is taught five different ways to ensure the lowest common denominator stands a chance of passing a state-mandated test at the end of the year. No time wasted on politics, on procedure, on disruptions.

There is no substitute for one-on-one teaching. Knowledge is transferred directly from teacher to student with no interference, in whatever means best suits that student. A homeschool parent quickly figures out what style of learner they have on their hands and can make a lesson meaningful and impressionable the first time around. This means the core curriculum of math, reading, science, and social studies can quickly be pursued and conquered, leaving time for art, music, a foreign language, or diving in depth into anything the child desires.

A traditionally schooled student spends at least eight hours a day at school or on the way to and from it, and then has an hour or more of homework every night. Suddenly it's dinnertime, and bath time, and the half hour of reading hasn't been completed and bedtime is swiftly approaching. Yes, there is time for the basic math-reading-science-social-studies education, but there's not time for anything else. No time for playing with friends, no time for trips to the park. No time for the exploratory pursuits essential for a child's development.

Another thing homeschooling offers is opportunity. I'd like you to meet my oldest son, Alexei. He's ten years old and in the fifth grade, and since preschool he's been lucky enough to be schooled at home. That's right, I said lucky. During a typical school week, Alexei is a self-starting learner and completes his four main school subjects. Then he attends two homeschool PE classes a week with twenty to twenty-five other students in or near his age range. After PE he gets to play with his friends and torture his sisters at the park. On Wednesdays he attends a co-op class with a dozen other kids, learning about science (a six-week study of the classes of mammals), art (learning pointillism, cubism, and more), and culture (an upcoming class).

Since he is afforded time, Alexei can fully involve himself in the 4-H program. He is the elected chairman of his club's historian committee and is responsible for photographing and documenting club events. He raises and shows rabbits, has qualified for the 4-H state team in rifle marksmanship, and loves honing his photography skills. The three project record books that go along with his 4-H interests keep him educated and financially sound with regards to his activities. This year he also attends the 4-H county council meetings and hopes to one day be a county officer. A valuable education in leadership, citizenship, and perseverance is his for the taking.

This past February Alexei earned nine blue ribbons and four red ribbons at the county fair for his whopping thirteen entries, along with $90 in premiums, two medallions, a Best in Show trophy, and the advancement of his photography entry to the state competition. He chose to take on all of his own projects and put effort into many different areas. Next year he already has big plans to increase the project load and earn all blues. Since he is homeschooled, he is able to complete his schoolwork and still have the time and, perhaps even more importantly, the unbridled enthusiasm to undertake so much extra work. He doesn't compete in 4-H out of any obligation; he does it because he loves learning and working hard towards his goals and eventual successes.

Recently we've signed the paperwork to lease a horse from a lovely woman who wants to enrich the lives of a 4-H family. Alexei has ridden and shown a little bit in the past and would like to ride well enough to one day show in 4-H. Like the rest of the family he understands the responsibility that comes along with such a huge animal, and that the hard work of cleaning a stable always comes before riding. Since he is homeschooled, he has time to learn not only the finer points of riding but also what it means to have patience, and humility, and the benefits of hard work.

Like all typical fifth grade students, Alexei can read, write, solve math problems, and regurgitate facts from his textbooks. He has a good, solid foundation laid down by a teacher who knows his learning style best, and then he has the time and innocence available to want to keep learning about the things in the real world that interest him. He can take the lead and determine his interests, and run with them while we encourage from the background. He will continue to be a success in school and in life because he has the time and the opportunity to explore, and that's something homeschooling is in a unique position to afford.

ramblings of a former NICU mom

It's amazing how some experiences just seem to stick with you forever. I was thinking about my new niece who will be born later this year, and that got me to thinking about Coral, who was born ten weeks prematurely. It's like this emotional force you never truly escape; some days you don't feel it at all anymore and other days it feels like you're privately obsessing about it.

After Coral was born, I went through some mild post traumatic stress. I kept flashing back to sitting in the OB's office, and his last words were, "You need to go to the hospital, right now." I was 29 weeks, 5 days pregnant. Then we had the six week NICU stay, which was absolutely agonizing with two young children at home. Finally she came home, on prescription caffeine and wearing an apnea monitor 24/7, just a hair over 4 pounds. Her second night sleeping safe and sound in her crib just inches from me, she aspirated reflux and stopped breathing. I still remember that night like it just happened; groggy, confused, apnea alarm screaming, taking her into the kitchen thinking the stupid machine must be broken. Seeing her pale, limp body and screaming over and over, "She's not breathing!" Laying her on the coffee table and ripping open her sleeper, the CPR video looping through my head, my heart racing under my pajamas. She wasn't making a sound, her eyes were closed, she was lifeless. I gave her breaths and began CPR. Finally, finally, she let out a tiny little sound and took a breath. I held her in my arms for hours as the junk in her lungs worked its way out bit by tiny bit, scared to ever let her go.

The post traumatic stress escalated from mild to barely held together. I would have flashbacks constantly of her lifeless body. I would wake in the night, Coral in my arms, thinking she wasn't breathing. We'd go through a toll booth and the beep of our Sunpass would make me jump. It took well over two years for the nightmares to die down, but every once in awhile I still wake up thinking she's not breathing.

At some point shortly after she turned two, we decided to have another baby. Although it wasn't the main reason, in the back of my mind I kept thinking, having a "do-over" pregnancy will make everything right again. And it went much, much better this time. I was freaked out pretty much the entire 37 weeks, but in good spirits heading to the hospital knowing I had made it and everything looked good. Six hours later and Hobie was born via emergency c-section, after an extremely painful and frightening placental abruption that could well have taken him away from us. Suddenly I went from feeling scared and stressed to just plain broken.

Coral is four and a half now and I still find myself waiting for that "do-over." It's occurred to me that maybe it's not a new pregnancy I'm ruminating over, but all the problems with the old one. As if I could change anything about five years ago. Yes, I have a happy, healthy, wonderful child and I am eternally grateful for that. Yes, I know we were so lucky that she was merely ten weeks early, with only a couple of minor, minor heart issues that are slowly resolving. But it still doesn't feel right. I want to go back in time and ask, why didn't this go better? Why wasn't I more proactive about how badly I was feeling? Why didn't I do x, y, and z? Why did the doctors not know what was going on? Why, why, why? How do you ever get past the whys?

baby bunnies!

I'll be posting about our science co-op shortly but while I was gathering up all the info, our fuzzy lop doe surprised us today and kindled her first litter! We were literally standing right there next to the cage wondering what she was doing; she hopped out of the nest and there were three squirming little pink blobs laying in the hay. The kids got a quick and thorough education on afterbirths and what most animals do with them, and that was about it for the fanfare! So far the babies are sightless little blobs. They all appear to be healthy but since Wuzzy is a first-timer, I'm a little nervous about her mothering capabilities. Only time will tell!

One of the babies has definite pink skin and the other two have gray skin. It will be interesting seeing what colors they grow out!