I had just turned off the interstate on my way home from Pete's gymnastics class.  To the left I saw a huddle of small children lunging their bodies against the back of a minivan that seemed to be stuck in the muck.  I made a U-turn to see if I could help them.

Paul recently pulled someone out (our neighbor who gets restuck every day) and he told me the tow cable was in the back.  I have never used a tow cable, nor retrieved a minivan from a month's worth of snow and ice melt.  But these small kids were getting no where.

It turns out that it was a mom and her brood and they were indeed quite stuck.  And, her husband is out of town for the week.  I begin to feel like a hero, and I haven't even pulled out the tow rope yet.

She suggested I get in the driver's seat while she helped her kids (there were so many of them, but they were very small) push.  And that did it.  Hooray!  Off to Boy Scouts they went.

My reward for such heroism?  I got to meet that town's police officer just a few moments later.  He was, um, waiting just around the bend, tucked in by the cemetery.  His red and blue flashing lights were not whirling in my rear view mirror in celebration of my neighborliness, unfortunately.

Oh boy.

"What's the hurry?" he asked me.  And, "I need to see your license and registration."

Two boys in the backseat full of questions while the officer is back at his car:

"What's happening?"
"I was driving too fast."

"Why does he have a gun?"
"Put your seatbelt back on."
"But I can't see him with it on."

"He's coming back!"
"Why does he have a gun instead of a sword?"


"Alright," Mr. Officer says to me as he hands me my things.  "Slow down and get outta here."

"Thank you.  I apologize."


But what I wanted to say was,

"Did you know I just rescued a mother and her countless children who were stranded in the muck in this here town of yours?  I did.  On the other side of the cemetery from where you were hiding.   I am a hero.  You should give me a sticker version of your badge."


"And, um, thank you so much for not giving me a ticket, sir."

Peter's Birthday Extravaganza * Part 2

February 7th - The Big Day of Skiing

I'm dreading even writing this part because it started so bad.  So bad.  So frustrating.  But in the end, we are victorious.  Just remember that.

We (two moms and five kids) got up and left the lodge at 7:30am to drive two hours south to the ski mountain.  Two stressors here:  Peter gets carsick nearly every time when we travel in the mornings.  And, it's snowing.

We arrived in good shape at 9:30.  I never envisioned this next part going so poorly.

We were told to meet at this one spot.  Our leader decided to meet somewhere else without telling us.  And, we don't know what she looks like.  So I wandered around asking strangers, "Are you Stephanie Caldwell?"

Found her, got our lift tickets, and like cattle, hundreds of us went upstairs to the stinky, stinky boot room.

 "Now what?" I ask my friend.  We don't know what to do.  Total chaos.  Using our keen observation skills, we eventually figured out how to find boots and get fitted for skies.  Hundreds of homeschool kids and two workers fitting skies. 

   It took us two hours - TWO HOURS - to get boots and skies for our little group of seven.

At 11:30am Peter quietly said to me,

"I'm ready to go home."

Super Momma Powers of Endurance and Positiveness... Activate!

 Ahh, there's a happy skier.

But wait.

Not yet.

We were told we would have a group ski lesson.

Totally counting on this since Peter has never skied before

and it has been nearly two decades since I have.

Not to be.

They announced, "No group lessons today.

Just go to the Discovery Area and move through the stations."

I can follow directions.

We go to the Discovery Area and the instructor tells us

to go back and have lunch and then come back.

That would really help her out a lot.

Cue Tears of Frustration.

We have been here two and a half hours and have not yet skied.
I'm trying so hard, yet feeling so weak and clueless.

But we say okay and head to the lunch area.

Hmm, how do we get our meal?

I ask a worker and she says we have to wait

until our appointed time, find our group leader,

and get our meal from her.

Our lunch time is 12:30.

It's now 12:00.

So we go back to the Discovery Area in hopes of getting a bit of instruction in.

The same instructor greets me,

"Oh! You've eaten and are back."

"No, we can't eat until 12:30.

Can we start going through the stations now?"

"Oh, um.  No, you will need to come back at 1:30."

We still have our skis in our arms, turn back around,

and head to the lunch area.

To wait.

Three hours and no skiing.

But, I'm trying my best to be

Super Happy, No Problem Momma.

Look here.

You'd think I love hot dogs.

I detest them.

Every single thing about them.

But I ate and I smiled.

You know, it only takes about seven minutes

to eat a hot dog lunch.

It's 12:37.

And we have to wait until 1:30.

But, alas, I am done waiting.

"Peter, this is how you ski.

Point your toes in, dig down a bit

and that's how you stop.

Point right to turn right.

Point left to turn left.

If you get going too fast, just fall down.

Ready, go."

And that's what we did.

We went down the hill...

...and came back up again.

Peter proudly announced to our friends,

still waiting at the top of the hill for lessons of some sort,

"My Mom is the best ski teacher!"

Thank you sweet boy.

So up and down we went.

Two little people in matching Uhaul hats.

The first time we rode a big chair lift,

I was so concerned about Peter getting off

that I forgot to get off.

Nice lift worker stopped it and helped me down.

And when the Skywalker Trail got too steep,

he booted down.

No problem.

But the next time,

he skied down.

He loved it.

He said to me several times,

"Mom, I think you should go skiing more than once every twenty years."

This is Midwestern skiing,

random ski mountain

surrounded by dormant corn and soybean fields.

Let's post that smiley picture again...

 We skied until early evening, when my knees said to me,

"You have averted death so far today, Stacey.

Well done.

It's time to stop.

We can't take any more."

So we left.

I can follow directions.

I'm all emotionally drained after replaying that day.

So let's go to the next day.

February 8th - Heading home

Reuben was dressed and ready to swim again by 7am.  The water park opened at ten.  So the kids watched a movie and played.  Then they swam some more.

On our way home we stopped at a lovely Turkish restaurant.  Mmm.  So good.

 

We lounged on floor cushions at short tables.

It was fun and unusual for the kids.

Onward to the drive home.

Do you know what this is?

Steve probably does.

It's an Alexander Calder sculpture.

Right here in our state,

just two hours from our house.

We studied Mr. Calder and his work earlier this year.

Paul spotted this sculpture as he drove

through this college town

and recognized it from what we've learned

about Calder's style.

I have learned so much as a home educator.

I love it.

So there it is.  Uber amounts of fun and frustration and more fun.  Trip #1 done.

Peter's Birthday Extravaganza * Part 1

February 5th -
He still wanted to make his birthday cake with me this year!  But instead of a cake, he is taking after Paul and preferring the giant cookie instead.

Doesn't he look so tall?

He's eight.

No doubt about it.

He is eight.

February 6th - 

We head to the lodge.

Peter's preferred schedule of events:

1. Look around the lodge and decorate the room.

 We found this unusual soap in our bathroom.

The back explained how this bar doesn't leave a little sliver of useless soap behind.

Neat.

 Peter packed streamers, balloons, and a Happy Birthday sign, which was fun.

 2. Have dessert.

Giant Cookie with...

 these Ninjago spinners on top.

And here is when I panicked.

Just above Peter's head is a smoke detector,

I noticed as Paul lit eight candles.

And only a few moments ago I signed the papers

acknowledging their No Smoking rule and I agreed to pay a $100 clean up fee for the sprinklers going off.

Aah!

I got the windows open an inch

and found a book to fan in front of the smoke detector...

and we were okay.

Ahh.

Continue with the festivities.

Reuben, enjoying himself.

 3.  Open presents.

Our room had this lovely little nook overlooking the forest.

Big box from Granpa and Granny.

Amazingly, it's just what he wanted.

  4.  Play with presents.

Peter's friend Brandon and his family came on this trip too.

Here they are battling with Ninjago things.

They liked the nook also.

Ninjago in action.

(Little ninjas spinning around trying to knock the opponent off his spinner.

Throw in some playing cards with special tricks

and you have a fun game for grade school boys.)

Meanwhile, Reuben tore apart the Amazon box and drove his truck on it.

4.  Go swimming.

 

Rube going around the lazy river,

enjoying the freedom of a life jacket

(and Paul is right next to him).

 Peter swooshing down the slide.

 Us.

The cool-yo parents hanging out.

And that is how you have the perfect eighth birthday.

Tomorrow (or when I have time to post again):
     February 7th:  In which we go skiing.

Not Dead

I am here to report that Peter and I went skiing.

And that I did not die.

Photographic evidence henceforth shall appear.

Murphy's Law, Inc.

So, we have the much anticipated Birthday Trip Extravaganza coming up ~ skiing, staying at a hotel, indoor water park, best friend's family coming, presents, decorations...

Peter is soon to be eight and thoroughly enjoying this month of HIM.  This includes daily tromps through ice and snow to the post office to check for birthday cards and packages.

One such package arrived from Murphy's Law, Inc.  The contents inside were little packets of nusances to hand out to our family in preparation for this trip.

So I gathered the family.

"Okay, boys.  We have some Pink Eye here.  Who wants eye crusties of unusual size?  Paul?  Perfect.  You just put in a new pair of contacts, pink eye will jepardize those nicely."

"Next, we have a 101.5 Fever.  Reuben?  Are you sure?  Well you are suceptible to febrile seizures with fevers, so that will compound that well."

"Peter that leaves you with a Marital Spat or an Ear Infection/Pink Eye Combo.  Which one?  You'd rather have a sore ear, swollen eye, a trip to Urgent Care, and drink three bottles of pink antibiotics?  Okay."

"I guess I'll take the frustration, confusion, and sadness of a Marital Spat.  Oh, you want some too, Paul?  That will work well."

"Are we good then?  Everyone is feeling bad?  But hopeful that The Trip is still on?"

"Oh, there's another packet.  It says Snow/Ice Storm of Fierce and Ridiculous Proportions."


Um, Mr. Murphy?  I don't think you are allowed to actually prevent the big event from happening.  I thought you were just supposed to make it harder and maybe put in the fear that it might not happen.  This storm is crossing the line.


This has been our week.

Here comes the self pep talk...

But we are strong!  And we can overcome!  And I will not let Murphy or Satan or anything Dumb take away the joy of celebrating my sweet, sweet son.

I'll keep you posted.

The Haircut

I got my haircut, as is my biannual tradition.  And I don't know what to do with it, also part of the tradition.  So these are all the pics you get for now.

Nice, yah?

The Current Rhythm

We are in a good schooling groove.  Structured, loosely.

I get up and eat and get ready while the boys play and read and do art - it's the traditional before-school break.

Then while they eat, I read to them from the Children's Illustrated Bible.

Keeps them quiet and eating.

After breakfast and Bible, Peter is off to his new art table to create a picture from one of the Bible stories we just read (his idea).  Then he delivers it to Paul's office to be displayed (also his idea).

This nine foot counter with drawers
and shelves needed a new home,

so we asked to have it and installed it on
the back wall of our laundry room.

It's very much at home now, covered with artwork and school books.

Then we aim to complete spelling, grammar, and math before our noonish lunch.  Paul comes home for an hour of family time and wrestling.

After lunch is quiet reading.  Peter collects a stack of books (library books about our current studies in science, history, art, and a free choice) and reads for 30-60 minutes while I read and do lessons with Reuben.

The afternoon is left to history, science, more art, Latin and other such subjects.  And Nolan comes over to play.

We are kicking up our extra-curricular activities for a few weeks with gymnastics on Tuesdays, piano lessons on Wednesdays, and drawing class on Thursdays.

It's a happy contented time.

I have been reading The Five Love Languages for Children and have really been trying to love Peter and Reuben in their languages.  It's amazing how it positively affects them.  And letting Peter do art and more art and more art does something in him that makes our days go so nicely.