It's Important to Look Classy

Common etiquette just isn’t the same as when I was little. Mrs. Manners and Emily Post just have no place in contemporary society where no one sends thank you notes or knows how to set a 7 course formal table. And I do understand how manners can be an idol. But I also think they are important to know so you don’t offend or look ridiculous.

If you show up to an Air Force Wing function in a tacky little knit black dress with hideous shoes better suited for a 21-year-old going to the night clubs or hanging out on a street corner, don’t you think people commanders will notice and it will reflect on your husband’s career? (Well, it should, I say!) On the other hand, if you show up looking like you just threw on any old thing and did nothing to your hair or face, isn’t that just as bad? If the AD are wearing mess dress for an early evening event, it’s a cocktail occasion, ladies. No business casual and no floor-length gowns…no prom dresses...it’s supposed to be a modest and attractive cocktail dress somewhere between your knees and tea length.

If in doubt, read this:


Cuz if you come looking like a hooker or po’ trash, I will make fun of you. And so will Ryan.

And, at our homeschool co-op, it must just be the trend that the parents not discipline their children. This one screaming tantrum girl got on my ever last nerve yesterday. I almost had to leave the room. It never ceases to amaze me how the homeschool parents either ignore their children or act like their rudeness is normal behavior. These same parents are sure quick to point out anything wrong with my children. Are you kiddin’ me? Have you looked to your household lately? When my 22-month-old acts better behaved than your preschooler, I think you have a problem. When your almost 5-year-old is on the floor acting like a dog during class, and won't follow anyone's instructions, it seems to me you've failed as a parent. Ryan understands, but I just don't. Tough love, baby.

Used to be, people got dressed up to go out to dinner for special occasions. Nowadays, we see people wearing shorts and baseball caps in “nice” restaurants. I can remember when Red Lobster was THE Place to go to celebrate a special occasion. It was like walking into a big, dark wooden ship and the wait staffs had crisp black and white uniforms and were polite and soft music played in the background. I dressed up in my best clothes and was so excited to get The Admiral’s Platter and a Shirley Temple. There were no coloring book kids’ menus with crayons. I knew not to jump up and down on the booth seat or run around the philodendron planters screaming like a banshee. Then, about 15 years ago they remodeled all their restaurants and now they look all bright and cheery and loud…and casual. The wait staff will all but sit down at your table to take your order while smacking their gum in your face. It’s just not special anymore. I can’t really think of too many restaurants that are special anymore, unless you want to have a heart attack over the $100+ bill for two mediocre meals that we could make better at home.

And I don’t really have anything against Pottery Barn as a company, but I really wish they’d quit sending me catalogs. Their perfectly clean and orderly rooms and model children intent on creating magnificent works of art at the $3000 “reclaimed” table (reclaimed from who?) in the staged playroom makes me a little woozy. Since we are military, and will rent beyond forever, the idea of this magical world will forever remain a fantasy. I don’t even really think I want to attempt to recreate it. I would probably die if a stray pencil mark marred that hideous table and I would have to “reclaim” my sanity if anything got out of place. I do know people who have houses decorated like this and I don’t understand it. They must be in debt up to their eyeballs and eat pork and beans straight from the can every night in order to keep up. Not to mention the therapy their kids will need later on.

I imagine the Pharisees had ancient Pottery Barn houses. Their wives competed with each other to get the latest design in hemp rugs and perfectly tapestry throw pillows in complementary colors. They served their important guests 15 different flavors of Keurig K-cups and Williams Sonoma exclusive baked goods on the ancient version of perfectly mismatched Fiesta Ware or Longaberger pottery and basket ware. They fumed when the gal down the street got a new Martha Stewart paint color on her plaster walls. However did they function without Pinterest? Oh, the horror!

Why We're Not a Quiverful Family, or Why Toddlers Drive Me to Drink

Alligator is 22 months old.

Most of my time is spent chasing him, keeping him out of trouble, pulling him out of the pantry, putting all my pots and pans back, hiding the case of Kraft macaroni and cheese, hiding the iPad, and refilling my glass. I live for naptime.

Today, I (multiple times) chased Alligator away from the water fountain at the library during story time, dripping water like a vampire drips blood from the mouth corners, sleeves sopping. When I say "no," he crosses his arms and shakes his head back at me. You want water, kid? How 'bout that Chinese torture kind?

I don't really have much respect for those "quiverful" families. I have pity for them. A part of me even feels a bit of disgust. These moms seem to have a rather unnatural rosy view of their families...and the world in general. Used to be, if you had more than 4 or 5 kids, people assumed you were Catholic. Not so much anymore. All this talk about God's will and blessings from heaven. Isn't it just testing fate to force a body through that a dozen or so times? How much can a bladder go through before it goes kaput? And how does one pay into that many 529s? How do you keep 'em all straight, especially if their names all start with the same letter? (My parents just had me, and they occasionally would call me by the cat's name.) What in the world does one have to look forward to? Depends Ultra in new fall fashion colors? Retirement at 95 - or never? Senility when your youngest is what? Three1/2 years old? An early death? I'm already counting the days until I can get a boat with "College Fund," or something else equally witty, painted in bright red letters on the side.

I realize some might consider ours a large family. We have four terrors kiddos. Honestly, if that second kiddo had been a boy, we would've been DONE. If that third kiddo had been a boy, we'd sure have been DONE. My husband would've been fine with two kids, even though they were both girls. After Hummingbird, we were pretty sure we were done anyway. We even finally got rid of all the baby stuff we'd been saving, just in case. But, I rocked the boat. I wanted to try for that boy. God sure has a sense of humor.

Shortly after Alligator's birth, my husband said wearily, "Now, I'll never get to retire." Oh, really, snookums? And when do I get to retire? I don't see a 401(k) or Roth IRA into which I'm pouring all my nonexistent income. I guess I'll live with Hummingbird, as in "Like Water for Chocolate." She is the youngest daughter, after all. She's expendable, right? I sure hope she decides to live someplace like Miami, with a pool boy named Raoul.

Allergies, Not the Sinus-y Kind

If you're allergic to everything, how are you still alive?

I'm pretty sure we have no friends because we eat lots and lots of peanut butter. With milk. On store-bought wheat bread with that damned gluten in it.

It totally stresses me out whenever I have to take snack to our homeschool co-op. This little girl is allergic to eggs and peanuts. That little boy is allergic to milk (which includes chocolate). Those over there are allergic to wheat. Um, how do you cook anything at home?

How 'bout I just bring a big ole case of water? No green people related to Elphaba? Then, we're good to go!

I have no recollection of peanut allergies when I was a wee lass in public elementary school. I brought a peanut butter sandwich on white bread, Doritos, and chocolate milk for lunch. Every. Day.

The first exposure I got to allergies was in high school when I met a girl who was allergic to EVERYTHING. She brought sesame crackers and celery sticks for lunch. I kid you not. She looked like Gollum. I wonder how she survived through graduation. I wonder if she is still subsisting on sesame crackers. How will she raise a family if she can't touch food?

So, during Bluebird's and Hummingbird's art class the other day...I planned for the kiddos to make bird feeders out of peanut butter and lard and birdseed. Fun, no? I polled our studio audience and, yippee! no allergies! So, as I strolled through the room to make sure all is well, I noticed about ten or a dozen little munchkins playing with lard like Play Dough. Well, maybe they didn't read the instructions? Maybe they couldn't find the monstrous plastic jar of cheapo PB in the bag? Innocently Naively,  I asked, with my plastic Jane Jetson face and my uber chipper voice, "Is everything OK?" This one psychotic mom apologized and explained that one of her other children has a peanut allergy. I stared blankly at her for a few seconds, waiting for the punchline explanation. She rambles on and my eyes glaze over: "If this child gets peanut butter on her clothes and gets home, the allergic child may be exposed and have a reaction." I nodded. I smiled. All the while I am thinking that this woman and her child must surely be insane. I glanced at the other moms who seemed to think that this was a perfectly normal reason why nine or eleven other children cannot touch peanut butter. And I am very confused about why the child cannot restrain from smearing herself with peanut butter or wear a smock. Why can't the mother strip her kid and wash the clothes as soon as they get home? I am just so confused. I smiled and walked quickly away lest her idiocy be contagious.

And I love those families who homeschool only for medical reasons. Their kid is too sickly and too allergic to life to go to school, so they stay home and watch TV and count leaves or snowflakes for math. I firmly believe that these children will face a miraculous recovery just as soon as they leave Mother.

We were once invited to dine at a fellow homeschooling family's house for dinner. She served tasteless and thin broccoli soup with generic Saltine crackers and water. I thought I had just been sent to prison or something. I mean, don't they eat better than that in the pen? For dessert, she involved all my kids in making rice flour chocolate chip cookies. They were glue pancakes. I thought I was in hell. One of her six children is allergic to wheat. He gets really bad eczema. I say, pass the lotion and gimme some bread.

I do thank God that no one in our family has any allergies to anything. Because they would die. I like eggs, milk, noodles and bread, and certainly peanut butter. I make a meal at mealtimes. I am not a short order cook. If I had to eliminate eggs, wheat, and milk, we would just have to live on bacon and popcorn, I guess.

It could work.

Mardi Gras is EVIL

Um, ok.

Many so-called Christian holy-days are based on pagan festivals that existed many centuries before God walked the earth as Jesus.

Do you celebrate Christmas? originally the festival Saturnalia...(don't get me started on the whole Santa Clause thing...)

Do you celebrate Easter? from the goddess Eostre...(does a rabbit really bring us eggs?)

Mardi Gras is the day before Lent. It was traditionally a day of gluttony before 40 days of fasting. Mostly a Catholic and liturgical church thing. Fundamentalists don't observe these events. Too bad for them.

So, I designed a story book art class for our homeschool co-op. For kids from Kindergarten through 2nd grade. I like themes because they're so theme-y, so each class has a funtabulous theme.

We're doing Groundhog Day this week with the most fundorable squee! whistle pig puppets you've ever seen popping out of paper plates. Well, why isn't Groundhog Day evil? Why isn't that deemed witchcraft or something? I mean, we're watching a rodent climb out of his burrow to see a shadow or not and predict the changing of seasons? Is that not insane and/or wicked?

But, Mardi Gras is EVIL, according to several homeschool co-op parents who will not be attending the class on that week. OK...their loss.

Did they think I was going to throw beads and candy to topless near-preschoolers and serve a daiquiri bar for snacktime? Now, there's an idea. I need a daiquiri or three after co-op Thursdays most weeks.

Anywho.

I picked the story The Greentail Mouse. It hardly has anything to do with Mardi Gras. It's about...mice. The craft is feather masks, but it wasn't like I was going into an historical or travel account of New Orleans and Mardi Gras or Rio and Carnivale and all that.

And what other theme should I have picked that week, huh? Oh, I guess something presidential or something.

Maybe these people should just buck up and start training their children in apologetics early like I do. Lizard can find a hole in your theological argument and blow. it. up.

So, if I had really planned to upset someone, I could have done a whole Pirates of Penzance theme for Leap Year. mwahaha

Are you a Homeschool Freak?

I'm sure you've heard the term "Jesus Freak." There's even a rather catchy song about it.

But, what about homeschool freaks? You know the ones. When you hear that your new neighbor homeschools, what do you immediately think?

Any and or all of this: denim jumpers and culottes, 80's mullets and big bangs, Red Dawn Apocalyptic survival prep, WoW for social studies credits, counting leaves or sticks for math, having no toys or TV because they're of the devil, no social activities because of the germ potential, no makeup (again: it's of the devil), going to that fundamental Christian church every time their doors open, homesteading-making-their-own-clothing-soaps-essential oils-whole-foods-fermenting-canning-grinding-their-own-grain types, unschoolers whose kids run wild as undisciplined little monsters who have no respect for anything or anyone and their parents just smile, Debi Pearl readers, extreme right politics, volunteering at local teen pregnancy crisis center, pyramid scam home businesses, farm animals in the backyard, ..

10 reasons why we're cooler than you...

10. I do not own a denim jumper or culottes. I have hair out of a freakin' Herbal Essences commercial. It takes effort and money to be this gorgeous, especially when I have nowhere to go to show it off, people. I shop at thrift stores for clothes (but I get awesome brand name almost new stuff!) so I can spend more money on fancy lingerie and makeup.

9. Even though we live in Utah, surrounded by LDS food storage fanatics, we really just live week to week on whatever sales hit the stores. Why exactly do I need 3 years' supply of peanut butter? And I think we eat pretty well and mostly healthy without grinding our own flour and fermenting stuff and creating strange new foods that no one has ever heard of in America.

8. We're not political. We don't volunteer. I'm libertarian. Leave me the hell alone and I won't bother you. Don't invade my space or rights or push your ideals on my kids. I don't care who you worship or marry as long as I don't have to get involved in it. I think the Golden Rule applies. And everyone in America should have the freedom to educate at home, public, private, whatever. I'd like a tax break for homeschooling.

7. Germs? Well, if you want to go out in a body condom, that's your business. We've all had colds and flus and tummy bugs and rashes and strep (that was me!). We've been injured with broken bones and scratches and abrasions. We're better for it. We're not into those essential oils or herbs that border on witchcraft either. Motrin is the cureall.

6. We do go to church. We're Presbyterian. According to the Baptists, I think we go to hell right after the Catholics. Presbyterians are normal. They're real folks. They drink beer and wine. They don't flip out if you say damn or hell and you're not quoting Scripture. They're awesome. Most bad things aren't really of the devil. They're from idiots making stupid choices. And don't judge others who believe something differently than you do. And don't tell them they're going to hell because they don't do this or that. Freaks.

5. I have read up on lots of different educational methods. I do have a college degree. I have an M.Ed. in secondary English education. Not like some people who have no business teaching others when they're idiots themselves. We home educate using a mostly classical, Charlotte Mason style. I do some Montessori with Alligator because he likes the hands-on stuff, but, man, is that stuff expensive! I just discovered some material about Waldorf and they're just weird. It's all fairies and natural wood and knitted figures. They all seem to worship nature, which is ok, I guess. Plastic is good. Say it with me again: Plastic is good. And unschooling is just irrational. If my kids had nothing to do all day, I would need to duct-tape them to the wall and get a pitcher of some adult beverage.

4. We do have pretty strict ideas about discipline around here. I think mostly it's from exposure to horrible children and I never, never want my kids to act remotely like that. Growing up, I was constantly reminded by my mother how those children were misbehaving and how I should never act like that. It would be disgraceful. In a Chinese honor your ancestors sort of way. So, I've read that crazy book To Train Up a Child about beating your darlings into submission. Freaks! I've read lots of books by the Clarksons. I've read lots of secular psych books about child-rearing. I think my darlings are pretty well-behaved unless they're tired, sick, or hungry. Kinda like me.

3. I don't have a home business. My blogs don't make any money (though I wish they did!). I write for the sheer joy of it. We have no farm animals. We have no Etsy shops. We live. We eat, clean, read, bathe, watch YouTube and Netflix, go to museums, play. Wait to get rid of the kids and retire and buy an RV.

2.  We use real books for learning. We have library cards. We have at least 5 bookshelves. We have textbooks and workbooks and biographies and stories and historical fiction and encyclopedias and dictionaries. We have supplemental manipulatives and they ain't leaves or twigs. We have a Wii with fun and educational and fitness games, but there is no WoW (we've never even played it). We have a TV and DVDs with cable and Netflix. Whatever would we do without the Cooking Channel?

1. Because we're AWESOME. We homeschool. We're not homeschoolers. We can converse with others. You only wish you were this awesome. And attractive.

We're so AWESOME, it makes me tear up.

Welcome to my new blog! Please join me on our journey as we attempt to home educate our four perfect darlings...and realize how sorely inadequate we are and how we will never even remotely measure up to the REAL homeschoolers out there. And we really just don't want to.

So, introductions!

For their protection, I will disguise the darlings' real names. Because you never know, we may get famous soon, and I sure don't want mobs of people at Target to holler out my darlings' names for sexual predators to know!

The darlings: 

11 year old Lizard

5 year old Bluebird

4 year old Hummingbird

21 month old Alligator

So, of course we're perfect when compared to you. Our clothes are so much more stylish. Our toys are all educational. We don't watch regular TV (there's Netflix y'all!). We make all our food from scratch and it's just amazing. We live a charmed life.

Of course, if we weren't military and didn't have to rent our home, we'd homestead it and use renewable energy, make all our own soaps, raise some kind of animal, and grow all our own food. sigh, I think that's our only fault, y'all.

We have tried over 50 different math programs to find that magical relationship with equations. (still looking!) So, today, I will just send the kids out to count snowflakes and check math off the list while I scroll through Facebook and Twitter. And I have to address the needs of my most awesome home-based business(es).

We're seldom actually home, so I hesitate to say that we home school. Of course, the darlings are enrolled in every community class and sport that we can fit in our schedule. Cooking, martial arts, soccer, dance, you name it, and we're in it. Lizard has her own pink cell phone with a cute Coach butterfly clip so we can keep tabs on her.

I, of course, attend every homeschool conference that I can. It's so exciting to meet others who are like-minded  in their educational endeavors...and also those who are warnings to the rest of us so I know what not to do. mm, hmm...some of those people are just downright scary.

We attend a weekly homeschool co-op. Thankfully, the parents are all very involved. Unfortunately, most of the children are rather rude and obnoxious, which just makes my darlings stand out all the more as the angels that they are.

My husband is super involved with the darlings. There is just nothing sexier than an involved daddy, y'all. He takes off work to help Alligator with his preschool art co-op class. My husband is crafty, y'all. He teaches that darn pre-algebra to Lizard in the evenings while I blog and Pinterest. And when I unplug the dang computer, he rushes right home to fix the problem.

Stay tuned for future posts where I address proper homeschool clothing and the religious aspect of homeschooling. How many culottes do you own? Are you as Christian as you think you are?