School Libraries

     My mother bear instinct has been aroused... again.  The thrill of getting three kids (one on loan) to two different bus stops in the early morning, after repeated reminders for socks, hair brushing and backpacks is, shall we say, not so thrilling anymore.  It sets the rest of my morning off with panic tainted rush.  Then my ace-reader comes home describing that he wasn't allowed to bring a book home from the library.  I investigate further...

"So what did they say..."
"Uh huh?"

They either said it was too heavy for his backpack... (What in the world?  His backpack only has an empty lunchbox.) or that it was too hard for him... which makes me want to roar.  I try to contain myself, I attempt not to cloud my child's perception that the school authorities are to be unquestioningly obeyed and revered.  But... but!!  This is INSANITY!

They haven't even tested the kids yet, to see what their reading level is, and yet they are making judgement calls.  And I could read it to him--but perhaps it is too hard for me as well!  I can understand for maybe kids who are left to themselves or something, but my kid is an achiever, and they just said--"you can't", "it's too hard!"  I get so incensed about this.  I want to sign a waiver saying my kid can have any book he picks... or call the librarians, or the teacher... or... hmmm?

I try to take a deep breath and think of the chain of command, or of going to the person who has offended you, or staving off the offense and giving the benefit of the doubt, asking questions; seeking to understand before being understood.  But all I can see is red and I feel quite settled on the issue of my child... they are all wrong.

Of course, not so, but I do try to understand the situation and the hint of the learning ceiling resounds like our previous school, but I won't believe it--yet.

Beginning Again!

   Here it is September, and finally I return to my writing spot.  My office is cleared of clutter, the house is clean, all temptations to distraction removed.  I have my cheerful fountain, Rod Stewart's serenade, and the gray sky is parting to peeking blue sky and white clouds.  I love to write.  It will be so delightful to get back to a routine which nurtures me.  Moms often end up giving 99% of the time.  The other 1% we're asleep.
   The summer was eventful, random activities and I learned something about myself.  I really am bad at math.  I took on the budgeting/allocating of funds... and I failed miserably.  NO overdraws, but despite my best intentions my mental rounding is insufficient partner to tightly managed money.  It really baffles me still.  I had a plan, I wrote out the plan... and then life happened and I needed to adjust the plan on the fly.  Anyway, Aaron and I worked on it together and I think we'll keep it that way.

     Listened to Michael Frost yesterday.  He is... a relevant pastor.  Aaron heard him at a conference and brought home CD's for me over a year ago, that I never heard.  He starts with a premise that he didn't feel like he fit in the church, and I have to admit, that is me completely!  I'm not drawn to anything "churchy" even social events.  When I hear a church service offered Saturday night--rock music--come as you are--that is intriguing to me.  I'm unconventional when it comes to "church."  Mr. Frost's solution is hanging out doing something you enjoy as a third place--somewhere you choose to be your community.  It could reinvent the idea of church for me.  'Share meals 3 times a week, bless the people in your community randomly and are spontaneously yourself'.  I really resonate with that.
     So the next step is where do we go--with whom... Because I am not an individual--I am a wife & mother.  I am now a clan leader.  This community has to be for my whole clan.  Something we all enjoy...  More on that as it unfolds.

The Non-moving Day

   The day after non-moving day is surreal, the following weeks have me waking up, half vested in my house and life here almost thinking, "maybe we will move today..." 
     Not wanting to unpack, my wasted days revealed.
     It could be in 6 months when his contract expires, or tomorrow if he gets a permanent job 3 hours away.
     So still there is the waiting, but the time has come for the dining room table to return.
     THE TIME HAS COME... for the air compressor and spackle to go back to the garage from whence they came!

Puzzling

     So we got out our one puzzle, as an effort to have some family time, without TV or wrestling (Earth day and all).  As it turns out, however, Aaron has a huge addiction to puzzles and he is a wizard with them.  The first night as I was cleaning up dinner or putting the kids to bed, or some helpful task, he and Ian went from gathering the pieces for the edge to having them all put together.  I was devastated!  I wanted to help. Ha ha!
     I lost interest then, feeling overwhelmed by the 1500 piece picture of South Africa, Blue water and scenes of the Big 5.  Aaron kept on.  He could not be pulled away to play with Benji downstairs.  The next day he sat there when he got home from work, and could not keep from plugging pieces in one by one, planning his strategy and executing it with precision.  On Saturday I lay reading the Scarlett Letter on the couch across from him, and he asked, "Aren't you going to help?"
"I don't really want to..." I answered honestly.  "Isn't my reading next to you like being together?"
"I wanted to do it together!"
"No thanks."  He never missed a beat while we spoke.
     A few days later I began picking up a few pieces as I would pass by.  Then one night Aaron was downstairs playing with the boys and I couldn't stop, I powered together the big 5 and was heading for the continent when I heard Aaron coming up the stairs, running late for a meeting.  Yikes!  Uh--dinner!  That night he ate and ran.  Oops!

Castle

The show Castle on abc is my one show I watch devotedly. As well as Jamie Oliver's Food Revolution. I enjoy Jamie's take on food very much & met him in South Africa as the Naked Chef. I have to close my eyes during opening credits as they show some grisly bodies. I love the interplay between Castle and Kate.

The Scarlett Letter

I somehow managed to escape the Scarlett Letter in school. Which is fine by me. I just finished it on Saturday. I cannot imagine having to read that in Jr. High, or maybe even High School unless in an AP class.
The plot and twist were interesting, but the minister was not very believable as a character. And the fact that the woman willingly stays in a place where she is degraded is weakness in my mind instead of strength. The freakiness of little Pearl, is disturbing and perpetuated, I think by her Mother's overdone seamstress work.

So Much Life!

So much has happened since I was last able to post. We emerged out of unemployment, but have yet to get our first paycheck. Aaron is filled with spending dreams after many months of saying "no" to ourselves. Dave Ramsey is keeping us in check. I reserve my generous nature, in secret anticipation that we may yet be in our predicament again.
I think I have always been a saver. I bought candy with all my allowance at times, like the next kid, but over all I have always felt the need to collect my money for something truly deserving. I love to be generous to friends in need or projects I resonate with, my generosity is in fact only matched by my stinginess at perceived waste of resource.
I hoped a bit, in our season of preparing to move, for new adventure--however trying. I am almost at peace again to stay completely. The casualties of the mad packing rush bear testament to my fervor. A return address stamp ($18), a set of rechargeable batteries ($6) and a Thomas DVD ($15). I do apologize for this--waste in its own right. The latter two were inadvertently sold with a $1 DVD player at our garage sale. AHHH! Could be worse, but not for a four year old. Who occasionally remembers with fresh intensity of tears.
My hope is certainly renewed, and I am thankful, each day is filled with so much life: choices, difficulties and at the very least at the end of the day sweet repose! What more could I ask for? Yea-even the chance at a new tomorrow.