A Very Nearly Tea

Well, we have been discussing whales all weekend long. Friday, my daughter decided she would like to fill our time between now and the next unit in history studying 19th century whaling. That was really what I had in mind when I asked her. (NOT!)

So anyway, in preparation, we have been writing down lists of things we need to know and ideas for resources to look for. We determined week one would be about whales, since...well, since I figured I could come up with a week's worth of material about whales over a weekend. As opposed to 19th century whaling. What on earth do I know about 19th century whaling? What on earth prompted this interest?

I am raising a strange daughter, but I digress.

Last night, while I was tucking my two year old Bug in to bed, she looked at me with excitement in her little blue eyes.

Mommy! Mommy! God made the whales!

I smiled and brushed a curl out of her eyes as I assured her that yes, he did make the whales.

That is so good because without them, cars couldn't go!

Suddenly, I realized my poor toddler thought we had been talking about wheels all that time.

So now I have to plan a unit on 19th century whaling and figure out how to teach my two year old the difference between wheels and whales. And unteach her the process of wheel manufacturing. Because right now, I'm seeing a Chrysler factory in heaven and it just isn't working for me.

Oh, and for a field trip idea, my nine year old thought it would be neat to go on a whaling trip. Not a whale watching trip, but an actual whaling trip. With harpoons and all. I tried to explain the grossness of that, but then left it. I said maybe we'd find a movie about it at the library. And then go to the IMAX to watch the whale movie they have playing there.

The joys of home education...

Picture courtesy of my daughter's sketch book.

In honor of Nebraska governor Dave Heineman's recent proclamation, I am hosting Home Education Week at my blog next week in order to celebrate homes education and all it offers. There will be a writing prompt each day so we can share our perspectives on a variety of topics and I'll include an activity that you can do with your family each day if you wish. I will be setting up a Mr. Linky thing so that you can easily share your posts with everyone. Feel free copy this graphic!

Here are the topics for the week:

Looking Back Sunday, March 30

Share your personal history…before you were a home educator. What was life like? Think about things you miss and things you and your family have gained.

Profiling Home Educators Monday, March 31

Describe yourself, your family or one of your children. What is it like to be home educated in your family? What is “normal” for you?

April Fool’s! Tuesday, April 1

And we have likely all felt the fool in one way or another. Share your greatest challenge. Or one of those terrible, horrible no good, very bad days where the only thing there is to do seems to involve moving to Australia.

Recipe for Success Wednesday, April 2

It is also National Peanut Butter and Jelly Day! So share a recipe…figuratively, as in two parts love, one part creativity, or literally, as in a super quick, nutritious meal your kids scarf up. Think about what you do in the day, what helps keep it organized and you sane (or how you got past that need for organization and saneness!), and curriculum materials you find effective.

Show and Tell Thursday, April 3

Show off those talents. Share a story, a special moment, a piece of artwork. Any accomplishment, great or small, is fair game.

In Their Own Words Friday, April 4

Share your children’s home education experience in their own words. What have they said about their education? What are their likes and dislikes? Share some stories, some quotes, or turn your blog over to your children for the day.

Looking Forward Saturday, April 5

What are your goals for home education? What do you hope to instill in your children? Are you planning any changes to how you educate your children?

I hope to see you next week, and look forward to some interesting reading!

Every February, the Sandhill Cranes begin to arrive to central Nebraska, numbering up to 600,000 birds. These magnificent birds stand four feet tall, have a six foot wingspan and fill the air with their "krroo, krroo." This is the halfway point of their journey from southern Texas to northern Canada. They stage their migration, stopping to rest and refuel for six weeks in the shallow waters of the Platte River, scouring the countryside for bits of corn left from last year's harvest.


It truly is an amazing experience, and there is nothing else quite like it in the entire world. Last year, visitors from all fifty states and thirty five countries came for the spectacle, and it was the subject of a National Geographic special. We went last year and again this year, spending a day and half observing them in the field as they searched for food, danced and strutted. We took part in a class, learning about the behaviors we witnessed throughout the day. The highlight was sunset as the birds came in from miles around to roost on the sandbars of the Platte River.


But of course, all my children were interested in was exploring under the highway bridge and throwing sticks in the water. My son summed up this aspect of our field trip thus:

Mom, that was the best field trip ever.

My daughter concurred.

(If you are interested, you can view the cranes via the Crane Cam courtesy of National Geographic through April 6. The best times are near sunrise and sunset, when the birds are getting ready to leave or coming in to roost.)

This afternoon, I left Bug waiting for her turn on the swing to walk over to see the horses with Bear. Half way across the field, I heard the tell tale sign of a two year old who had changed her mind.

Mommy! Wait for me!

I turned around to a scene I wanted to etch in my memory. One of those brief moments you do not want to lose. Her face shone with the pure joy of a two year old running free in a field. Her eyes sparkled. Her yellow curls bounced. She flapped her arms, accentuating her toddler run. Her exuberant giggle rang out across a field just beginning to green...and all against the backdrop of a clear, blue sky.

It was picture perfect and I had no camera. Only a moment to etch in my memory before she slipped her little hand in mine to go see the "horsies."

My two year old told me a bedtime story tonight, and I'd like to preserve it for all:

Noah and his wives and his wives' sons got to play with the kitty cats. And Noah was afraid, but God shut the door and it was ok because God was outside. He walked around and had to fight. And it rained. Then God put on his BIG jammies and went to bed.

You should have seen her eyes as she emphasized how big God's jammies were. And in case you are curious, hewears black jammies to bed.

My sweet little Bug has encountered a speed bump in the toilet training journey. Since that fateful day I bribed her, she has been doing exceedingly well. At home, in public, overnight.

Who could ask for more for a few smarties?

But then, she met the WalMart toilet. One of those atrocious beasts had the audacity to flush itself while she was trying to use it. Off she flew, to develop a sudden phobia related to public toilets.

Today at the hospital she had to go. I took her to the restroom and demonstrated that it didn't flush automatically. She wasn't so sure until she started to have an accident. After that, she went to wash her hands.

And that sink had the audacity to turn itself on.

I'm not sure I'll ever get her in a public restroom again.

Picture me sitting in McDonald's one fine day in between an appointment and errands. The morning too rushed to feed the kids a decent breakfast, and the bagel I placed in each of their hands as we walked out the door proving to be utterly inadequate to sustain them until we returned home.

So there we are, sitting but rushed. Or at least I was feeling rushed. The baby bounced up and down in her high chair, eating one cheerio then dropping the next one on the floor. A habit she picked up at home for she so delights in the watching the dog scarf up the shared bounty. My son wiggled; my oldest read me the jokes on the back of her McDonald's bag. I was only half paying attention while I made lists in my mind and wondered if there was anything I could put off until later in the week.

I noticed my two year old was playing peek-a-boo with an older gentleman seated near us and I watched for a moment, wondering whether I should intervene. He was alone and seemed to be genuinely enjoying the game, so I left it. I noticed he was busy folding something, but paid no more attention as I helped the children clean their places.

As Bear took the tray to the trash can and Mouse wiped the table with a napkin, the man came over to show the children the bird he had just made.

He pulled the tail to make the wings flap and said,

May you always fly as high as your dreams.

Then he handed the bird to me and left, saying,

Thank you for being a wonderful mother.

I wasn't feeling like all that wonderful of a mother. And I realized how the smallest of things can brighten a day, regardless of what stress you feel.

Or maybe it is just something with older people and McDonald's.

Or is it just me?

But this afternoon while jumping around the room playing a broom as if it were a guitar and singing some really bad Axl Rose interpretation of the Flat Stanley theme song, my husband stops mid-leap and asks,

What's wrong?

As if something were wrong with me.

Walking downtown, a man stepped out of a local bar to have a cigarette. He looked over my children while lighting up.

All yours?

Somehow, I knew what was coming as I answered in the affirmative.

How many?

He seemed incredulous at the result of his own count, needing my confirmation that there were indeed four children. Or maybe he was drunk enough to be seeing double. Or thought he was. I braced for the invariable comment as I responded.

Life is never boring at our house.

He looked disapproving and even shook his head.

I thought it was a daycare.

I couldn't miss the sneer in his voice. But I laughed. Not a polite laugh. Nor even an uncomfortable laugh. A real laugh because I really thought it was funny...as if I had never heard that one.

As many times as I have had this discussion, it is different when it is your obstetrician joking,

Better you than me.

Or the stranger who inquires as to whether or not I know what "causes that."

Why, I do not know. I didn't think about it then. Maybe it is because these other people are cloaking their judgment with an attempt at humor. Because the joke isn't funny and it never really was.

Perhaps in future I'll get on better if I imagine all of them stepping out of a bar to have a cigarette. They don't need to know why I'm laughing.