tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-256698572024-03-05T02:43:55.854-08:00Is that Poop in his Hand?Observations from my world.Piratewenchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12650378104485139031noreply@blogger.comBlogger125125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25669857.post-11717339858957320202023-06-21T20:45:00.000-07:002023-06-21T20:45:28.682-07:00Delightful Surprises <p> Every now and then I’m amazed at what life sets in your path. These past two days have been punctuated by such delightful surprises. After a day at the beach with Brooke and Lauren, we decided to grab lunch at the Wind & Sea, in the Dana Point Harbor. They have an outdoor patio situated at the marina entrance and it’s relaxing to watch the boats and kayakers glide into the marina. We had just ordered our food when another party was being seated right next to us. I thought I recognized a familiar voice and when I looked up, I was astonished to see my step-brother, Jeff Cortese and his beautiful wife Cathy. I haven’t seen them since their wedding, 8 years ago. That was just after I’d lost my mother and approximately 16 years after we’d lost his dad. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgLp864zqT5MMHPLU328Xbn_WU6Yh9cCrhYNBYr8krNLqW5r1QPqhCGvYp6iKFxXsyeeKAqEJuG4L7X1ySxg6dVEZ5qkmbyV7qK7pmIyLrwCA8jiP-k1xvayyara7N6W2wo_VO1N0rSIapfKV0EU6_FQfjP-y5Az_pEhwmPF6U_xJ2864zFUKhKA/s4032/IMG_7614.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgLp864zqT5MMHPLU328Xbn_WU6Yh9cCrhYNBYr8krNLqW5r1QPqhCGvYp6iKFxXsyeeKAqEJuG4L7X1ySxg6dVEZ5qkmbyV7qK7pmIyLrwCA8jiP-k1xvayyara7N6W2wo_VO1N0rSIapfKV0EU6_FQfjP-y5Az_pEhwmPF6U_xJ2864zFUKhKA/s320/IMG_7614.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><div><br /></div>Jeff and Cathy live in Orange County, but not where we ran into each other. The odds of us crossing paths couldn’t be much slimmer, yet here we were. <div><br /></div><div>During our reminiscing, Jeff had asked if I’d taken the girls to see his dad’s plaque at The Swallows Inn, a local dive bar with a rich and lengthy history. I hadn’t, thinking the girls were too young to get in. He also told me that there was a Concert in the Park event, today. </div><div><br /></div><div>Today, the girls and I went to the movies, downtown, which is pretty centrally located. After that, I asked them if they wanted to walk over to The Swallows and see the plaque. We walked right in. This is the plaque.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBmpmtcnpD6g-aCBUx6gmT1xiFh9FVsF9baENAGBh8lv4FO3x4z0sizwuNfTp7YI2EQTU9Hh6-64o56CoUXikJ8IKNbdwU8iyxJpau5bXmfkRELjfjU6y8n_nKCltEgnKv_wx7Sn75WMIJKXlXYB0BBa0vANjydQ2VoqK-9KENQilD21rN5Y6rEg/s4031/IMG_7607.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2552" data-original-width="4031" height="203" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBmpmtcnpD6g-aCBUx6gmT1xiFh9FVsF9baENAGBh8lv4FO3x4z0sizwuNfTp7YI2EQTU9Hh6-64o56CoUXikJ8IKNbdwU8iyxJpau5bXmfkRELjfjU6y8n_nKCltEgnKv_wx7Sn75WMIJKXlXYB0BBa0vANjydQ2VoqK-9KENQilD21rN5Y6rEg/s320/IMG_7607.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div>“In Loving Memory of Dr. Joe Cortese, Dr. Fleas. A real cowboy, respected veterinarian, in San Juan Capistrano and devoted father and husband.” The inscription sits atop a wooden carving of a cowboy. I was able to get a photo of the girls, standing next to it, before we were chased out, for them being under age. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidSynT_za9VwnpbRlTK47QvmkdBRFALBWaFLeFmEwfE_jRvS_eQHDnoTGjCB5QfhOIwMP5mRmvEkRsbKh8EnbCIoZwCq4zB5ZXAuBvyUjTdM-82nRI7b3xjiEC460FbrHEzkeiz-mqnPWix4Rnnk0WK9wCXOEr-clZ8GLX8RpVmTGgVc9kFWxy9Q/s4032/IMG_7608.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidSynT_za9VwnpbRlTK47QvmkdBRFALBWaFLeFmEwfE_jRvS_eQHDnoTGjCB5QfhOIwMP5mRmvEkRsbKh8EnbCIoZwCq4zB5ZXAuBvyUjTdM-82nRI7b3xjiEC460FbrHEzkeiz-mqnPWix4Rnnk0WK9wCXOEr-clZ8GLX8RpVmTGgVc9kFWxy9Q/s320/IMG_7608.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div>From there, we walked over to the park because we could hear live music. San Juan Capistrano has a marked Western flavor and history. We were amused and delighted to see a large crowd, line dancing, to a live rendition of Pink Floyd. Only in SJC! <div><br /></div><div>As we stood there taking in the sights, a man walked by me wearing a type of Hawaiian style shirt that I’ve only ever seen on our dearly departed Joe Cortese. I looked at the man and immediately recognized him as one of my stepfather’s good friends, Ray. He used to bounce Max on his knee when Max was a little guy. He came to New Mexico with us for the spreading of Joe’s ashes in the Pecos River. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFhpkr-NSkfBBLdrBmLbyOsSeSVFh4H5Tsapl_qemZ7fgOkbQ9mUnVGEXMVzMvhhqgRvH6bnGHgbLMo4qmCscyGcNsEs_MSiWe5mjK8A3_RkoR3IDEfe8ZZ9RYNwgGZnriFaDS76ep-0rL1ulBDxzkGrsMa72BnQyftwfQnGtAGmx-GTOu75ZgTw/s4032/IMG_7613.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFhpkr-NSkfBBLdrBmLbyOsSeSVFh4H5Tsapl_qemZ7fgOkbQ9mUnVGEXMVzMvhhqgRvH6bnGHgbLMo4qmCscyGcNsEs_MSiWe5mjK8A3_RkoR3IDEfe8ZZ9RYNwgGZnriFaDS76ep-0rL1ulBDxzkGrsMa72BnQyftwfQnGtAGmx-GTOu75ZgTw/s320/IMG_7613.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div>He asked me if Max still had that red, red hair. I showed him a current photo of Max and he smiled. I told him that I first noticed him by his shirt because it looked like the style Joe used to wear. I was delighted when he told me the shirt had been a gift from Joe. I really love being here, in this city, connected to my past. <br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div><br /><br /><div><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p></div></div>Piratewenchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12650378104485139031noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25669857.post-70507515060315704542022-11-19T09:33:00.006-08:002022-11-19T09:35:38.013-08:00Waiting in my Car<p style="text-align: center;"> <span style="font-family: "Shadows Into Light"; font-size: x-large;">As I sit here watching time pass</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Shadows Into Light; font-size: large;">before my eyes,</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Shadows Into Light; font-size: large;">I contemplate each moment.</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Shadows Into Light; font-size: large;">I attribute meaning</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Shadows Into Light; font-size: large;">and assign definition.</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Shadows Into Light; font-size: large;">I use many words</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Shadows Into Light; font-size: large;">to express few thoughts.</span></p><p style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-family: Shadows Into Light; font-size: large;">me </span></p>Piratewenchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12650378104485139031noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25669857.post-80792012763533144902022-11-19T09:25:00.001-08:002022-11-19T09:25:13.439-08:00Silence<div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Kalam; font-size: large;"> I traverse these darkened caves alone</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Kalam; font-size: large;">unknown.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Kalam; font-size: large;">I wander blindly</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Kalam; font-size: large;">failing to perceive the light</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Kalam; font-size: large;">that promises to guide me.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Kalam; font-size: large;">I whisper in silence</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Kalam; font-size: large;">listening for echoes of guidance. </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Kalam; font-size: large;">I seek the placid lake</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Kalam; font-size: large;">no ripples</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Kalam; font-size: large;">just glass divine.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Kalam; font-size: large;">Smooth, inviting, clear,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Kalam; font-size: large;">outside the realm of time.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Kalam; font-size: large;">You will find me in this place</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Kalam; font-size: large;">haunting the lowlands</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Kalam; font-size: large;">as I pass without a trace</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Kalam; font-size: large;">where the earth opens</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Kalam; font-size: large;">and shadows close in.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Kalam; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-family: Kalam; font-size: large;">me </span></div></div><p><br /></p>Piratewenchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12650378104485139031noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25669857.post-37657148670330842182020-09-08T12:02:00.002-07:002020-09-08T12:02:52.593-07:00First Day of School-2020<p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p>Today was our first day of school. Home school. We read one of the Tuttle Twins book called, "<a href="https://tuttletwins.com/product/the-tuttle-twins-and-the-food-truck-fiasco/" target="_blank">Food Truck Fiasco</a>." The Tuttle Twins is a collection of books that focus on conservative principles. This book was about protectionism and competition. After we read the book together, I was asking the girls to demonstrate their understanding of the book. I gave them an example of having two lemonade stands across the street from each other and asked them how a customer would benefit from having two lemonade stands to choose from. We talked about how one stand might offer more flavors, better service or lower prices to gain customers and that was how the consumer benefits from competition. </p><p>Then, a light bulb, for Lauren, went off. She explained that she remembered playing a Roblox game where she had a lemonade stand and was charging $5.00 per glass. Someone came along and set up their lemonade stand right next to hers, undercutting her prices, selling theirs for only $1.00 per glass. That was the perfect opportunity to talk about how it's understanding that someone could support protectionist regulations, if it was beneficial to their business. We talked about the ethics of that and decided it was wrong to support that kind of regulation. I asked her how she finally resolved the competition situation and she said, "I opened up a hot dog stand and had more options for my customers!" Brilliant! </p>Piratewenchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12650378104485139031noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25669857.post-17383415535552553822020-01-31T17:29:00.002-08:002020-01-31T17:29:34.224-08:00Nature Study<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Today was an amazing day of homeschooling with Brooke and Lauren. I wish all of our days were like this. On a whim we stopped at a park and walked along the dry creek bed. We talked about the patterns in the dead eucalyptus logs and learned that it was caused by beetles. I snapped a few leaves off to let them smell what fresh eucalyptus smells like. We talked about the way the bark peels and I looked up rainbow eucalyptus to show them just how amazing and beautiful it could look. We took photos of interesting things and then came home and sat on the back patio to work in nature journals. We had snacks and I read to them about history while they worked. It's only February but it feels like early Spring on a day like today.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>Piratewenchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12650378104485139031noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25669857.post-42235145298996977372020-01-31T12:50:00.000-08:002020-01-31T12:50:06.886-08:00My Thoughts on Public Education<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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The brilliance of this video speaks for itself. I constantly find myself thinking about things that I was not taught in school. On a daily basis, my thoughts turn towards the things I want my own children to learn.Piratewenchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12650378104485139031noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25669857.post-30353215549579784082018-09-30T12:29:00.000-07:002018-09-30T17:23:43.492-07:00Fun-Schooling<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I've always been a homeschool mom at heart. As a child, school was never difficult for me, however I found it boring and never really applied myself until I went to college where I thrived. I'm pretty sure that every report card I ever received contained comments about me not working to my full potential. It's safe to say that I never liked school.<br />
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When my first born was little I couldn't imagine handing him over to an institution for many hours each day. I wanted to homeschool him. I had no experience and even though I did much research on the topic, I didn't have the confidence I needed to take that leap of faith. I enrolled him in a hybrid program that consisted of 3 days of school per week on campus and 2 days of homeschool. I thought it was the best of both worlds and for awhile it was.<br />
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It didn't take long for me to develop a dislike of the curriculum materials that the school was using. There was very little that I found creative or inspiring. I knew that if I wasn't inspired to use these materials, I couldn't expect my kids to be inspired by them. One of the perks of the hybrid program was parental involvement and flexibility. I had the option to choose my own curriculum to work with on my homeschool days with my kids. The problem was that there was very little continuity between programs and although I tried to make it work, it didn't. So in the end, I conceded to using their materials and stifle my inner voice that they were all wrong. Things went along like this for awhile, until they couldn't. That was when I realized that one of my children was dyslexic.<br />
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The year long journey that brought me to homeschooling my girls is worth explanation of it's own, however I won't linger on that here. It's safe to say that the school we attended did nothing to help my dyslexic daughter, even with my advocating for her. I have a well documented case against them.<br />
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Skip to present time. I've chosen to homeschool my girls with the help of a fabulous charter school that facilitates homeschooling. My only feeling is that I wish I had done this years sooner. I've only come across advantages and no disadvantages, so far.<br />
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My dyslexic daughter is now receiving the academic intervention that she's needed for a long time. She has the benefit of a learning specialist who is trained in Orton Gillingham, Lindamood-Bell and Barton (the reputable interventions in the world of dyslexia). She has been with our new charter school for 9 years. Brooke is getting one-on-one intervention or being grouped with only 1 other child, at the most. Our previous school couldn't keep a learning specialist for more than a single calendar year, some leaving even before then. It's been difficult for my daughter to get to know each one of them, each year, only to start over the following year with someone new or worse yet, someone filling in until they found someone "permanent." I can't tell you how grateful I am to watch someone systematically working through a scientifically proven method to teach my daughter vs having her complete random worksheets printed from a free, online website (yes, I did an observation in one of her special learning sessions at her previous school and that's what they were doing).<br />
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Not only do I see hope on the horizon for my dyslexic daughter, but there is a world of fabulously engaging curriculum materials to choose from in the homeschooling world. One of my favorites is <a href="http://funschoolingbooks.com/" target="_blank">Fun-Schooling with Thinking Tree Books</a>. These books marry well with the philosophies of Charlotte Mason who believed that learning was more of a lifestyle.These books serve as a template for learning and creativity. They are open ended and can be used in many different ways. They encourage using the library and utilizing books to study various things, as opposed to being a "canned curriculum." They overlap in subject area, such as Language Arts, Social Studies and Science. For example we are using a book called "Pignapped: From Factory Farm to Family Farm." This book is the story of a pig who goes from being in a factory farm to living on a family farm. The book looks at how our food is processed (Science) with the history of how factory farms emerged from family farms (Social Studies) in a workbook that provides opportunities for vocabulary work, essay writing, comparing and contrasting (Language Arts) along with opportunities to draw and color.<br />
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Another one of their books, "Yum-Schooling," is a cookbook that provides recipes and instructions, but also opportunities to answer questions about the recipe, such as, "What was difficult about making it? How could you make this better?" etc. There are also vocabulary activities, thought provoking questions about food, opportunities to create a recipe of their own, documentary suggestions about food and opportunities for further research. All of these books are interactive and engaging. Some of the books will end up being family keepsakes. For example there is a "Film Study" book which is full of pages in which to write down movie reviews. I bought this one with the intention that the whole family could contribute to it. The pages (in all the fun-schooling books) are very graphic, as opposed to just being typeface based. Simply speaking, they provide opportunities for writing in a non-laborious approach.<br />
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In addition to the fun-schooling books, we're using some computer based learning. I couldn't be happier with our math program, <a href="http://www.teachingtextbooks.com/?Click=9171&gclid=Cj0KCQjw6MHdBRCtARIsAEigMxFiiXo9N4WagUrgfmTaYaH1ExoEmdLD1BhfPjDFklmFmEsymubZS04aAj1DEALw_wcB" target="_blank">Teaching Textbooks</a>. <a href="https://www.readnaturally.com/" target="_blank">Read Naturally</a> and <a href="https://www.lyrics2learn.com/" target="_blank">Lyrics 2 Learn</a> are reading comprehension programs and L2L uses music and song, to teach comprehension.<br />
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We're also learning about US History, using the <a href="https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC5pJi9mLIy38m2e_u3sboKQ" target="_blank">Liberty Kids</a> series along with a series guide that I found on <a href="https://www.teacherspayteachers.com/Product/Libertys-Kids-Video-Guides-for-ALL-40-EPISODES-Revolutionary-War-1795281" target="_blank">Teachers Pay Teachers</a>. I combine that with working through a Fun-schooling book about U.S. Presidents and watching some Disney and Peanuts documentaries about U.S. History and Presidents. I love that I can overlap and reinforce learning by providing the same information with multiple types of media. We even made a point to watch the Great Moments with Mr. Lincoln attraction at Disneyland on our last trip.<br />
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Literature Units are wonderful and I don't know why the public school doesn't use this amazing approach. In our previous school we were bombarded with Reading, Reading Comprehension, Grammar, Vocabulary and Writing jobs. None of them were connected. Each one was a separate activity with it's own reading material, most of which were tedious, non-fiction reading with too many technical terms and dates. There was no psychological investment in any of these Language Arts jobs. Enter the Literature Unit. The girls and I are reading, "Island of the Blue Dolphins," together. The literature unit work encompasses all areas of language arts. After we read the chapters, we work through vocabulary, comprehension, grammar, writing, etc. and they are all related back to the reading we did in the book. There is an investment in learning because there is connectedness. There is a logical progression and flow to the work we do. I have been wanting that for a very long time.<br />
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Another benefit of homeschooling is the opportunity for field trips. Even though our previous school hosted field trips, from time to time, they were rarely educational and they were rarely led or directed. No supplemental materials were provided to connect the field trip to classroom work or activity. They felt like dangling, lost opportunities. I have found a couple of fabulous <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Field-Trip-Journal-Navigator-Level/dp/1548750956/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1538334380&sr=8-3&keywords=field+trip+journal" target="_blank">Field Trip Journals</a> to document our field trips. We are planning a visit to the <a href="https://californiasciencecenter.org/visit/admission/king-tut-admissions" target="_blank">King Tut Exhibit</a> that I have prepared for by lining up a Literature Unit for <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Egypt_Game" target="_blank">The Egypt Game</a> along with a book full of hands on opportunities to learn about the pyramids and other parts of ancient Egypt.<br />
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We are not just homeschooling. We're fun-schooling and learning so much. Me too.<br />
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<br />Piratewenchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12650378104485139031noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25669857.post-86975617161443868602018-05-22T11:37:00.003-07:002018-05-22T11:37:32.818-07:00Reading is Fundamental<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4w-KRi9Zff1zvEE-pO4jJBwqQ9XyZinLtc3pM9mSblQustplgSd5c0f2gPEzdYB97lYSiTSRrPcVUTDiqrwfAodJ5khHeBpqsLoeVD-14o-qUujmiT0AbzJpiTVSia41MoTjyaQ/s1600/787.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1067" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4w-KRi9Zff1zvEE-pO4jJBwqQ9XyZinLtc3pM9mSblQustplgSd5c0f2gPEzdYB97lYSiTSRrPcVUTDiqrwfAodJ5khHeBpqsLoeVD-14o-qUujmiT0AbzJpiTVSia41MoTjyaQ/s320/787.JPG" width="213" /></a></div>
Brooklyn sits in a bay window on a road trip to Cambria and tries to keep up with her school work, even during summer. This photo was taken 2 years ago, in 2016. It's a painful reminder of the struggling that Brooke has suffered during her academic career at the charter school she attends, (River) Springs Charter School. This workbook represents the only phonics and decoding that she received. They're well written, but they're part of a program that consists of accompanying lessons, that were never provided. 2 years later, my girl is still struggling and has been identified as having a learning disability called dyslexia. 2 years later, I'm fighting a school district that does not want to allocate resources to help my daughter close the gap by providing the kind of intervention that has been scientifically proven to re mediate dyslexic learners. It's expensive and it must be implemented with fidelity by highly trained reading specialists, which they do not have. It's been an intensive journey since October and I'm in fighting mode for this girl. I've had to seek legal counsel and advocacy.<br />
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<br />Piratewenchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12650378104485139031noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25669857.post-9493121449167316592016-10-20T10:20:00.001-07:002018-05-22T11:39:49.552-07:00<div style="text-align: left;">
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"Wow! I should blog. It's been so long." I was thinking about my mother, as I drove home from dropping the kids off at school. I was thinking that I might process her loss, more efficiently, more emotionally...perhaps share my experience with my kids, so that they might know how my mother had prepared me for her death and that I might prepare them for mine. We never know when that time will come and we shouldn't wait till the end of our lives to treat every day as if it's our last.</div>
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I thought about how confident my mother was. I thought about how few knew how vulnerable she really was inside, insecure, like all of us. Her confidence was her behavior. She was brave as hell. She taught herself to behave with confidence and it took her far. Humor and compliments bridged gaps. If ever there were gaps. </div>
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As a teenager I watched her win people over with a kind of magic that I held contempt for. Was she sincere? Did she mean everything she said to everyone? Did she mean what she said to me? I felt not and so I blew her off, rolling my eyes at her when she complimented me. She hated that. She said I needed to learn how to take a compliment. I thought she loved me blindly and she would say anything to make me feel good. Why I held that effort in such contempt, I do not fully understand. I didn't trust that her inflated sense of esteem for me was an accurate reflection of who I was. </div>
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Now that I am a mother, myself, I see that my mother was trying to mold me into that which she strove to master, herself. She wanted me to hold my head up high and duplicate what she had taken years to master. She wanted to pass on the best of herself, to me. She wanted me to be able to benefit from her "modeling" confidence, if you will. I would do the same for my children. I will be aware, however, of the distrust that I could easily create, if ever my sentiments are taken as insincere. </div>
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Looking back, I'm finally able to appreciate what my mother saw in me. I'm able to see myself through her eyes and that's exactly what she would have wanted.</div>
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Piratewenchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12650378104485139031noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25669857.post-78256948767436989512013-07-16T07:48:00.001-07:002013-07-16T07:48:13.677-07:00Right Brain/Left BrainLanguage is said to be a left brain function, along with logic, reasoning, math and critical thinking. On the other hand, emotions, color, images, music and creativity are all right brain functions. When I think of my daughter's strengths, I've noticed that the two of them seem to be dominated by different hemispheres.<br />
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By 3 years old, both Lauren and Brooklyn were on the low end of the bell curve and had issues with speech and language. Since that time, Lauren has come far and Brooklyn is still making progress. Lauren is now on the high of the bell curve. Brooke has not yet been retested, since she's been in a speech program this past year, but I can tell that she still needs assistance.<br />
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As a very young toddler, I can recall Lauren having some interesting abilities. She would line up her little toy animals and place them standing side by side, according to size. I found some happy face stickers on the wall that she had placed. When she first put them on the wall, she grouped them loosely. Then she arranged them in a linear fashion. After lining them up, she actually adjusted each of the stickers so that the faces were all level. I remember her stacking nested cups really well at a young age. We were actually encouraged to have her screened for autism because of her unusual ability. She did not have autism, but she did have some cool skills.<br />
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A few days ago, I watched, entranced, as Brooklyn sat playing the piano and singing. Her words and tune were both made up. I could barely pick out any words, but she was singing to her heart's content. She loves singing and she does so often. She loves drawing, coloring and painting. I am sometimes amazed by her creativity and her artistic nature.<br />
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<br />Piratewenchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12650378104485139031noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25669857.post-50894803780155123782013-01-04T21:19:00.000-08:002013-01-04T21:19:06.892-08:00BrooklynBrooklyn woke up in the middle of the night and told me she needed to go potty. I asked her if she had wet her pants. She said, "no, Lauren did." I checked Lauren and she was dry. I checked Brooke and she was wet. I asked Brooke about that and said, "did you wet your pants?" She replied, "no, Lauren did it."<br />
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I guess at 4 years old, there is no such thing as the obvious. Brooke blames Lauren for plenty of naughty things that she does too. I really hope this is not an enduring trait of hers.Piratewenchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12650378104485139031noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25669857.post-69340833597374207452012-06-03T17:59:00.005-07:002012-06-03T17:59:45.690-07:00Backyard Fun<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Last night, we got out the sun shelter and watched television in the backyard. This is one of my favorite things to do on a summer evening. We laid blankets down and brought more to cover up with. We had as many pillows and pillow pets as we could find in the house. So, propped against our mountain of fluffy pillows, covered in fuzzy blankets, we snacked on popcorn and drinks, while we watched episodes of Dr. Who on the laptop. You can't see Scott, because he took this photo, but he would have been on the other side of Max. Even the dogs hung out with us. The air was brisk and refreshing and the full moon smiled down upon us. Max and Lauren had fallen asleep before the night was over and had to be carried to the house. I hope to have many more nights like this over the summer.Piratewenchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12650378104485139031noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25669857.post-63272093058948379312012-02-22T12:39:00.000-08:002012-02-22T12:39:22.906-08:00Sea WorldMax goes to a very unique school. It is a state charter school, but it is a Montessori program. Not only that, but it's a hybrid of sorts, because it's a combination of classroom and homeschooling. He homeschools Mondays and Tuesdays and attends his class Wednesdays through Fridays. I really feel like it's the best of both worlds. At least if you are not a parent who is employed outside the home. I really like the fact that I have input to his education and I can do things that the school cannot. Like offer him the variety of media choices, field trip opportunities, subject, content, etc. <br />
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Anyway, last week I took Max to Sea World. We've had annual passes for the past several years and our current passes are about to expire. Normally, I would have taken Brooke and Lauren too, but they are too old to get in for free now and it's not a good time to get passes for them. So, Max and I went alone. It's always great to spend one-on-one time with the children. Max gets to do this much more than his sisters. It truly is hard to seperate them and yet I know it needs to be done, so that they can both benefit from the individual focus and attention that they need from time to time. <br />
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Max and I had a wonderful day. No strollers. The freedom we had walking around was wonderful. It was a beautiful day, with lots of sunshine and perfect temperature. We walked through exhibits, saw a show, fed some sea lions, went on some rides, played some games and ate some lunch. We laughed, played and ran around holding hands. Max talked me into two different rides that made me sick to my stomach and got me to go on them twice in a row each. We took some photos and some video. I put together a little video to highlight his trip and make it an official homeschool activity. <br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dx98CqCvqWcjyRar8k1kDmdHH5u332FPJ1jPx-NgISeWKMtAHz_pEr4-UQHY9uljBpR4U2hqxkIXI0' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>Piratewenchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12650378104485139031noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25669857.post-28768334191355951782012-02-04T16:19:00.000-08:002012-02-06T08:00:55.006-08:00Little Girls World<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi89xhxNzwmqfPHXEyy2iHW6Nv1sekLCtYzUp-yK8MiqOR32Em5mYy_FV4KDUVLKzRRDUf5rgJXzffUGJgHjwQPWU9YwmAwaQ2sP3ijTGptYarrheMx5Zr2gRsaGvJEtS2z9D9d_g/s1600/2011_08290086.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi89xhxNzwmqfPHXEyy2iHW6Nv1sekLCtYzUp-yK8MiqOR32Em5mYy_FV4KDUVLKzRRDUf5rgJXzffUGJgHjwQPWU9YwmAwaQ2sP3ijTGptYarrheMx5Zr2gRsaGvJEtS2z9D9d_g/s320/2011_08290086.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>I love to sit, like a fly on the wall, and listen to my little girls play. They sing together, they dance together and they play together. They like to stand in front of the mirror and sing songs. Brooke is telling Lauren, "okay, you're Elmo," as they break into the Elmo's World chorus. Both of them have arms outstretched and they're rocking from side to side. Then Lauren starts to sing the song from Sleeping Beauty, "Once Upon a Dream," while forcibly taking Brooke by the hand to partake in some simplified version of a waltz.<br />
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Just a little while ago, they were sitting in their room, playing house. Apparently, they were playing the royal version of house. Princesses, princes (mostly Disney versions) and some Hello Kitty characters. I could hear Lauren saying, "I'm the baby!" Then, she says to Lauren, in her most baby like voice (not a far cry from her regular voice, only more dramatic) "mommy!" "Mommy, I want my bottle!" I hear Lauren oblige by offering her who knows what. "Here you go sweetheart!" The sweetness is overwhelming. It's just nice to hear them playing without crying and shrieking over who has which characters. It won't be long though.<br />
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I'm amazed at the duration of the conversations, considering that they're both somewhat speech delayed. They seem to understand each other consistently, in a way that I have yet to master. Sometimes they sing their own made-up songs, together, with words that I don't understand and yet, they sing it as though they had first rehearsed their lines.<br />
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There is a symbiotic harmony between them. Quick to explode and quick to forgive. Negotiating over things constantly. They have worked out their pecking order. All things pink are automatically Lauren's and all things blue default to Brooke. I admire their ability to work together. At least until I walk in the room, to find one of them sitting on the other, who is hollering for her sister to "get off!"<br />
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They create their own world, sometimes, and I just feel privileged to be a part of it.Piratewenchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12650378104485139031noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25669857.post-89569639786915468882011-07-18T11:46:00.000-07:002011-07-18T11:46:31.039-07:00Thank You Max<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: left;">Hey Max! </div><div style="text-align: left;">I just wanted to say thank you, for teaching Lauren how to pee in the backyard, like a boy, how to call her dad "dude," and for teaching her to scream "OW, MY NUTS!" </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj38baYmwxTnGlrN-X5I-pk2ZBAz0InHdIfbEN9YPH8NwCZgVd3e1l1DXApHzXpUzA4VBWhaU6iWERqU9lfv9Gfg5UWam__IH3r_99o3a3dwiK5NhPa-hmsUJPqmt3QkDN4uSBVbw/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj38baYmwxTnGlrN-X5I-pk2ZBAz0InHdIfbEN9YPH8NwCZgVd3e1l1DXApHzXpUzA4VBWhaU6iWERqU9lfv9Gfg5UWam__IH3r_99o3a3dwiK5NhPa-hmsUJPqmt3QkDN4uSBVbw/s320/photo.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;">Sigh...</div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj38baYmwxTnGlrN-X5I-pk2ZBAz0InHdIfbEN9YPH8NwCZgVd3e1l1DXApHzXpUzA4VBWhaU6iWERqU9lfv9Gfg5UWam__IH3r_99o3a3dwiK5NhPa-hmsUJPqmt3QkDN4uSBVbw/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br />
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</div>Piratewenchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12650378104485139031noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25669857.post-41290152260381347182011-06-11T20:42:00.000-07:002011-06-11T20:48:53.719-07:00Potty TrainingIt's official. I can say that my girls are actually potty trained. Sure, there are some accidents here and there. That's normal, but I think we're over the hump. The first thing was making sure that they were showing signs of <a href="http://www.babycenter.com/0_potty-training-readiness-checklist_4384.bc">potty training readiness.</a> Once I decided that it was time to start, I had to make sure I had the supplies we would need. Those included two potty training chairs, stools to reach the toilet, wipes, a timer and lots of M&Ms. Oh yes, and of course panties. It's been an interesting 4 months. Lauren and Brooklyn could not have been more different in how they handled and approached it. <br />
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Brooklyn left the gate at full gallop. In our "pre" potty training days, she already showed an interest in just sitting on the potty. That made it easy to start her off on our regular toilet. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">iPhone...better than a magazine.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>This toilet has <a href="http://www.pottytrainingconcepts.com/Family-Seat-Standard.html">two seats</a>. One that is adult size and one that is child size. It's all built into the lid and is very useful, since children are so much smaller than we are.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNSu5mdzZhu0EDebq5IisHhXPfJpmP8YSYSKEuykzzl9gU7eVg1pw-3wzkP52gHCmWf05Tk2_dtxFH7gCa1pP-xPuhUmJ61K0UmGn1oO3ydWEWs0JKDeTVBeIROWsymMNgHZfxmg/s1600/IMG_0955.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNSu5mdzZhu0EDebq5IisHhXPfJpmP8YSYSKEuykzzl9gU7eVg1pw-3wzkP52gHCmWf05Tk2_dtxFH7gCa1pP-xPuhUmJ61K0UmGn1oO3ydWEWs0JKDeTVBeIROWsymMNgHZfxmg/s200/IMG_0955.JPG" t8="true" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One for us</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><div align="left"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUaVAhemA1l58vBQjXyP0He1pA0bue2Qqrb_P7qbRzx-X0GptB96rH1P1N3Fdcojo3GgSU0q81ZvKrNKoj7oyPhmTFc5CK99OlO8SNrSINUj9T8jyIsJx6hw2phBVyggUQLws4Og/s1600/IMG_0956.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUaVAhemA1l58vBQjXyP0He1pA0bue2Qqrb_P7qbRzx-X0GptB96rH1P1N3Fdcojo3GgSU0q81ZvKrNKoj7oyPhmTFc5CK99OlO8SNrSINUj9T8jyIsJx6hw2phBVyggUQLws4Og/s200/IMG_0956.JPG" t8="true" width="150" /></a></div></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One for them</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Note: Up to this point, this post had been sitting, unfinished, in my "drafts" folder, since last February. In finishing this post, both girls have been potty trained for quite some time.<br />
<br />
Anyway, I originally puchased this toilet seat when Max was potty training. I installed it in our main bathroom. Since that time, I have purchased a second and installed that in the master bathroom. We had been using one of those padded seat inserts, but they are messy and cumbersome. I highly recommend these seats. You never have to fumble around for it and they are really easy to clean. They also provide a lot more stability.<br />
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In the beginning stages, we just let the girls run around "commando." No bottoms. That way they were ready to go whenever they needed to. At that point, they were not quite able to pull their own panties down. This worked well with Brooke, because she would loudly announce, "poo-poo-potty!" That was whether she needed to poop or pee.<br />
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Brooke was a breeze. She liked to sit on the potty and we had many false alarms, where she just sat there and never produced. Fine with me.<br />
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Lauren was a challenge. And she was the one we really needed to get trained. She had turned into "Poopcaso" and taken to smearing the walls with the contents of her diaper. There were also incidents where she had ground it into the carpet with the use of a few toys. Fun stuff. She was much more comforatble using one of those little training potties, so that's what we used until her confidence grew. The main problem we had with Lauren was that she would not alert us when she needed to go. She would quietly slip away to do her thing. In the beginning it was fine, but soon enough she started to dump her own removable basin. You can imagine what a mess that was. Not only that, but because she would not alert us, she was un-wiped.<br />
<br />
Eventually, we had to make the girls wear panties. Not only for sanitary reasons, but for modesty reasons. With Brooke, no problem. We just pulled them down for her when she needed to go. Lauren, on the other hand, would sit down on her little potty, without anyone the wiser, and go right through her panties. This lasted for a painful eternity. We would either discover that she had wet panties or she might come walking out, doing the side-to-side shuffle. Eventually she learned to pull her own panties down. But we still could not get her to tell us when she needed to go or to quit dumping out her own basin.<br />
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In the beginning, I would squeal, clap, sing, jump, march and anything else, resembling the production of a one-man parade. Scott did the same and I even enlisted Max into our Oscar winning, theatrical production of praise. When that started to get stale, I tried M&Ms. This was short lived, as I ended up doling out M&Ms to anyone in the vicinity of the victory. This meant both of the other kids, but truth be known, Scott and I were dipping into the till as well. Then I switched to bubbles. This was one trick I had never heard of and it worked like a charm. Any time there was a successful potty encounter, we blew bubbles right there in the bathroom as a reward. And that was what took us through the rest of our potty training journey. At least to an acceptable point. Both girls still sleep in a pull up at bedtime. This is really the last hump to overcome.<br />
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The girls have been such a different experience from potty training Max. One thing in common about Brooke and Max was that I had to give both of them glycerin suppositories (a recommendation by our pediatrician) to get them over the hump of actually pooping in the toilet. In Max's case, he was preschool age and was still requesting a diaper to be put on him for no other reason than to poop. He would not go any other way. If I tried to hold out on him, there were plenty of tears and I just didn't want to push that hard. I didn't want to make it an emotionally devastating experience for him. In Brooke's case, I did not wait very long before resorting to it, because I had such a success doing it with Max. The sense of immediacy that it gave them, left them with no other choice than to go as soon as I set them down on the toilet. After they had done it once, they both had the confidence to do it the next time, without hesitation.<br />
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If I were to offer any potty training advice to another, I would definitely recommend the two sized installable seat. Also, the use of bubbles and, if necessary, glycerin suppositories. And finally, carrying a training potty around in your vehicle. I use this a lot. Not only is it convenient (they can use it right in the van) and the right size, but it is usually a more sanitary option than using a public restroom. Additionally, I carry a collapsible potty in the stroller when I go to an amusement park, the beach or a park for the day. It's compact and can be set up in a flash. It also doubles as a seat insert for setting onto a regular size toilet, which I also use in public restrooms or at at friends and families homes.<br />
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So there you have it.Piratewenchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12650378104485139031noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25669857.post-63396816762006705162011-06-11T12:18:00.000-07:002011-06-11T12:18:02.489-07:00"You've Got Your Hands Full""You've really got your hands full!"<br />
I hear this phrase most days when I leave the house. I travel with a double jogging stroller (a double Bob) that has a little spot towards the front, which is just big enough for Max to sit down on and hitch a ride. Which he does. Often. It's not that he's just lazy, which he is, but he also walks on his tip toes and that slows him down. Not only that, but it's just plain easier to keep my eye on him when he is not meandering around.<br />
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These days, Max is the easier of my three when we are on the go (I almost delete this sentence in disbelief). As a baby, and toddler, he was much more content to ride as a passenger in his stroller than his sisters are. We went so many places...often. Brooke and Lauren are reluctant passengers at best. They are uncooperative and miserable, riding in the stroller. They complain, loudly. They cry, whimper, shout, lean outward, torment each other and are constantly trying to escape. For me, this is extremely negatively reinforcing. Therefore, we don't venture out as much as I would like to. It makes me feel sad, because I know they are not broadening their universe in the same way that Max was able to. <br />
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I don't mean to play the "one up" game with other mothers, but having twins definitely puts us in an exlusive group that is most understood by other mothers with twins...or more (bless their hearts). The mixture of indescribable joy and frustration is unique. This mothering experience is so qualitatively different from my first pregnancy and parenting journey with my first born. <br />
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In some ways their experience is enriched, merely by having a partner in life. In others, they miss out on so much because their attention is always diluted. Always shared. Not in the same way as having an older sibling. There are physical limitations of mine that prevent the kind of exploration that I would otherwise allow and encourage. Simply put, they often take to running in opposite directions and I just can't wrangle both of them in many public situations.<br />
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Note: This post has been sitting in my "drafts" folder since last November. Inasmuch as it is an "unfinished" post, I have decided to post it anyway and be done with it. This is my life...deal with it (I say to myself).Piratewenchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12650378104485139031noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25669857.post-64856947609170540322010-10-13T11:09:00.000-07:002010-10-13T13:08:37.534-07:00Children and Nature<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikDCDGjJaY8vCC-grpZGyoLuULckeX-kRkhpbHRZSRb0tGjTwybkqW62T5pJ0Q8KeTRcnfvIpGR0vdK8T13RiVV1LCMkcqD7CvgaKi86qA8BvguOM2dIofNoLLoOM7Jhf_xD622w/s1600/DSCN0561.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5527621084209188962" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikDCDGjJaY8vCC-grpZGyoLuULckeX-kRkhpbHRZSRb0tGjTwybkqW62T5pJ0Q8KeTRcnfvIpGR0vdK8T13RiVV1LCMkcqD7CvgaKi86qA8BvguOM2dIofNoLLoOM7Jhf_xD622w/s320/DSCN0561.jpg" /></a> <div><div>"To find the universal elements enough; to find the air and the water exhilarating; to be refreshed by a morning walk or an evening saunter... to be thrilled by the stars at night; to be elated over a bird's nest or a wildflower in spring - these are some of the rewards of the simple life." ~John Burroughs</div><div><br /></div><div><div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsKYFa9OfaY-nDdf7LyxbWfATj8FTT51ilGdaBVxJ0ePS2_hHRtuVdqX1Sng9Z67p5F2v2SN6Aax2a1NI4hxDKcUhsidszdDVVlf_EpjHt7fZOsRsunPr3PBlvckZ1a853YoXZJg/s1600/DSCF2349.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5527610835902848690" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsKYFa9OfaY-nDdf7LyxbWfATj8FTT51ilGdaBVxJ0ePS2_hHRtuVdqX1Sng9Z67p5F2v2SN6Aax2a1NI4hxDKcUhsidszdDVVlf_EpjHt7fZOsRsunPr3PBlvckZ1a853YoXZJg/s320/DSCF2349.JPG" /></a>I'm not one of those moms who feels that idle time leads to boredom or trouble. On the contrary, I feel that idle time is a necessary part of self-discovery, as well as discovery of the world around us. I don't like to keep my children so busy with planned activities, that they don't have ample time to just "be." Maybe that sounds a little existential, but I guess that's my brand of spirituality. </div><br /><div></div><div></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD2MUUPXz7l9Vp6Oe4I9uUiW3ysLXd-ADm3n8Yb8Sk6nSQhBVuP-LChm9scngnN6sQAUNfZveIAI7HgBvk4I5eUEakC8CDKbo2yWYMPyLFfBORPFE94xFQQSsNeQQ-4vRRu1ThYQ/s1600/DSCF2400.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5527620156114134738" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD2MUUPXz7l9Vp6Oe4I9uUiW3ysLXd-ADm3n8Yb8Sk6nSQhBVuP-LChm9scngnN6sQAUNfZveIAI7HgBvk4I5eUEakC8CDKbo2yWYMPyLFfBORPFE94xFQQSsNeQQ-4vRRu1ThYQ/s320/DSCF2400.JPG" /></a>I wan't my children to feel like free spirits. Someday, when they have grown, I hope that they are empowered by and can connect with nature...with themselves. I want them to learn how to reflect on and admire the beauty and strength of nature. I think it's important for them to feel humbled by it and at the same time learn to embody it's stillness and it's strength.<br /><br />"Climb the mountains and get their good tidings. Nature's peace will flow into you as sunshine flows into trees. The winds will blow their own freshness into you, and the storms their energy, while cares will drop off like autumn leaves." ~John Muir </div></div></div>Piratewenchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12650378104485139031noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25669857.post-53063943890606084822010-09-29T14:02:00.000-07:002010-09-29T14:33:56.744-07:00Unless You're a MomUnless you're a mom, it may be hard to understand the emotional rolleroaster that an average day presents. If you wake up before your children, and most of us do, you gaze upon their angelic faces and feel such satisfaction that they are slumbering peacefully. Maybe you sneak off to enjoy the only moment, of that day, that you will have to yourself. I usually make myself a cup of coffee and just...sit. The stability that I enjoy in those moments won't be revisited again, until tomorrow morning.<br /><br />In between those moments, I will have argued with my son about the contents of his lunch. I will have scolded him for watching television, when he was supposed to be dressing for school. I will have discovered a nasty scrape on my daughter's arm, of which I have no idea the origins. I will change the other daughter's diaper, to find a "pimple," that may very well be a more serisous infection growing. Gee, that one is in addition to the one on her thigh...the one she points to and says "oush!" I feel helpless, not being able to immediately resolve it. I take my son to school and, on the way, he tells me I am the "worst mom in the world," because I didn't let him finish watching his cartoon. My heart sinks. After dropping him off, one of my girls bursts into tears as we turn back onto our street. She does this every time we come home.<br /><br />I will have to sneak out of the house to take the trash out, or endure more screaming and crying. I venture out, and as always, get caught...screaming and crying ensue. Someone comes to pick up some donation items and as I help them to their car, more screaming and crying. Sigh. I must sing several rounds of "Twinkle, twinkle, little star," to make it stop. Nothing stops the throbbing in my head though.<br /><br />By this time, I will have changed 3 poopy diapers and at least 3 peepee diapers. I will have bathed one daughter, while the other one empties out the cabinet at the end of the hallway. I will dress the bathed daughter and put the other one in the bathtub, but will have to endure more screaming and crying because the girl who was bathed first, now wants to go back in.<br /><br />I will have tripped on or jumped over toys strewn about the floor. I will probably step on at least one, with all my weight, and curse out loud. I will have accidentally spilled bleach on my shirt and curse out loud again. I will wonder how the table runner, from the dining room, came to be in one of the bedrooms. I will also wonder what the crunchy stuff on the back of the dog is and decide to bathe the dog outside, but get caught and have to endure more screaming and crying...more "twinkle, twinkle." I can't even count how many fights I will have to break up...how many injustices I will have to right. I will ride this train all day long...being jostled from side to side. Aggravated...heart broken...pissed off...bursting with love...all...day...long. At least until tomorrow morning. And you may not know what I'm talking about...unless you're a mom.Piratewenchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12650378104485139031noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25669857.post-23928131783776858312010-07-05T14:20:00.001-07:002010-07-05T14:51:24.727-07:00After-thoughts on Independence DayYesterday was hard. I woke up around 4:30 and had trouble getting back to sleep. I managed to do some cleaning in the garage, before most of the others were even awake. When Max finally woke up, he was very excited about the 4th of July party I had convinced him that we were having...just the 4 of us; Brooke, Lauren, he and I. We put the star shaped cookies in the home-made cookie jar that I had made from a craft suggestion in Family Fun Magazine. It was cute, a red, white and blue robot with a see through body area to view the cookies, which also needed to be decorated with theme in mind. We blew up the bounce house, put water in the water table and let everyone play outside, after being slathered in sunscreen.<br /><br />The menu I had planned was barbecued chicken, corn on the cob, cole slaw and mashed potatoes. We also planned on making star shaped cupcakes with red and blue sprinkles on top. So far, the day might otherwise be an ideal one. The weather was hot and Scott would be home for the first half of the day. Nonetheless, I still had to do all the shopping, preparing, cooking, cleaning and parenting on my own.<br /><br />The not so ideal parts of my day consisted of having to clean the wall, in our hallway, after Lauren smeared poop, from her diaper, all over. Yes, I know, clearly a sign of potty training readiness...sigh. Lauren also managed to stuff a small blob of blue playdo up her nose, which obviously bothered her a good deal. I tried to hold her down and fish it out with some blunt edge tweezers, but it was too far gone. I used the battery operated "snot sucker" on her too, but that just retrieved some of the blue snot. I hope it dissolved or went down the back of her throat. There appears to be no telltale sign of it today. Only time will tell, if she develops any kind of sinus infection from the foreign object.<br /><br />Lauren (are you noticing the pattern here...the common denominator of the day?) also managed to shove her sister, while in the tub, and cause her to get a bloody lip. Worthy of mention, is that it was Brooke's second bath of the day, because she smeared cottage cheese into her hair at dinner time. Lauren has perfected the art of screaming her way through the "terrible twos." The sound of her voice is deep, gravelly and has an amazing projectile for a small child. I am sheepish to admit that I have even responded by holding my hand over her mouth, being ever so careful not to cover her nose, of course.<br /><br />As I write this, I have a naked "clone warrior," an underwear clad "indian" and a diaper wearing "knight," all running around my house, engaged in battle. The dog is hiding. I wish I could say the same, having no idea what little disasters await the rest of my day.Piratewenchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12650378104485139031noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25669857.post-68648743646736642512010-06-23T10:14:00.000-07:002010-06-23T10:23:31.047-07:00Sentinel of the NightPen in hand, I sink into the over sized sofa, pausing to take a deep, healing breath. The dog lets out a guttural groan...almost in acknowledgement of my own resignation. The night has been long and morning comes faster than I care to concede.<br /><br />Brooklyn is sleeping soundly in my bed. Night time stirs discontent and she has whimpered long enough in her own bed. I tried to comfort her there, but there is a vast difference between the distant isle of her bed and the comfort of the mainland. I pick her up and carry her to my bed. She sleeps deeply now. Her breathing has steadied. She no longer grasps at her own hair, as if trying to regain balance. Her final utterance was a sweet sigh and I am content...until Lauren cries out.<br /><br />Her disorientation becomes mine. I rush to her side and she need only feel my breath against her neck to relax. A single, tiny finger reaches out and touches my cheek. She smiles, never opening her eyes. Satisfied that I am near, she turns over and settles back in...for now.Piratewenchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12650378104485139031noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25669857.post-13515177487046906602010-05-17T01:31:00.000-07:002010-05-17T01:49:24.366-07:00Two GrandmasLately, Max has been concerned with death, as his awareness of it grows. He posed his question to me:<br /><br />Max: "Mom, who will be my grandma if Grandma dies?"<br />Me: "Nana will still be your grandma."<br />Max: "WHAT?" "I have TWO grandmas?!"<br />Me: "Yeah, what did you think Nana was?"<br />Max: "Just a person."<br /><br />Then, I elaborated a little bit about the family tree and where his grandmas stood, relative to his father and I. To make sure he understood, he reiterated back to me:<br /><br />"So Nana is daddy's mommy and <em>the old one with the two dogs </em>is your mommy."<br /><br />Ouch!Piratewenchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12650378104485139031noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25669857.post-19359029172834210852010-03-02T10:03:00.000-08:002010-05-17T01:51:43.436-07:00The Less Glamorous Side of MotherhoodJust now I was changing Lauren's diaper. It was a poopie diaper. Not a solid, nor a liquid, but rather a mousse like consistency. I unfastened the diaper and lifted her slightly, by the legs, as I reached for the wipes, at which point she coughed. Coughing might not have been so bad, except for the force of her cough made her fart...twice. Now even baby farts are not such a big deal except for the fact that she still had poop mousse all over her little bottom . Her little fart blew that poop mousse all over my arm!!! Blech! Twice. I had to wipe off her bottom as quick as I could before she coughed again.<br /><br />Another time, Lauren walked into the living room, where I had been sitting and offered me her fingers, so gingerly. Without even thinking about it, I kissed them. Then I smelled the poop. She had been digging in her diaper and gotten it on her fingers...and I kissed it (cringe). I jumped up and dashed to the bathroom, faster than a speeding bullet, to wash my mouth off with soap. Truly disgusting!Piratewenchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12650378104485139031noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25669857.post-84632817284075198862010-01-22T12:45:00.000-08:002010-05-17T01:54:12.701-07:00A Couple of TrueismsI can't seem to remember to pick up the dog's water dish each day, BEFORE one of my girls has dumped it all over the floor.<br /><br />No matter how many toys I pick up off the floor, there are more toys to pick up.<br /><br />Upon initial investigation, Max is never guilty of anything.<br /><br />If something is missing, look outside the doggy door first.<br /><br />If Brooke is screaming and crying, Lauren has two of something in her possession.Piratewenchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12650378104485139031noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25669857.post-68813131490496932892010-01-22T12:34:00.001-08:002010-02-12T11:01:36.626-08:00If You Were a Fly on the WallIf you were a fly on the wall, at my house...<br /><br /><br />Lauren: (walks in the living room with an empty bathroom wipes box).<br />Me: "Box! You have a box!"<br />Lauren: (hands the box to me).<br />Me: (looking around for a toy to put in the box for her...seeing a small figurine of Woody from the Disney/Pixar movie Toy Story laying on the floor) "Here's a Woody for your box!" (realizing what I've just said to my 1 1/2 year old daughter, looking around sheepishly to see if anyone noticed).<br /><br />Max is learning to read, therefore sounding out various words throughout the day. My husband overhears him in the bathroom...<br />Max: "T"..."A"..."M"..."P"..."O"..."N"...<br /><br /><br />Me: (scratching my leg...something my husband always tells me to stop)<br />Max: "Stop scratching!"<br />Me: "Why?"<br />Max: "When Daddy's not here, I'm the boss!"<br /><br /><br />Max and I were laying on the bed, watching some television and he takes both hands and starts shaking my stomache...<br />Me: "You know, mommy used to have a skinny, flat belly."<br />Max: "I like your squishy belly. I don't want you to have a skinny belly."<br /><br />Max was watching the cartoon "Happily Never After," and the main villain, a woman, was wearing a very clingy outfit. His face lights up and he shouts out: "BOOBS!"<br />.....like father, like son.<br /><br /><br />Recently, I assigned the "Baby Got Back" song as a ringtone for someone on my cellphone. I've also been singing it to the kids to make them laugh. This morning, Max was absentmindedly singing it himself:<br />Max: "I like big, fat butts!!! Big, fat, squishy butts! I can't lie!"....sigh.Piratewenchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12650378104485139031noreply@blogger.com1